Authors, German -- 19th century -- Biography; May, Karl Friedrich, 1842-1912
And now they had come, those grand, uplifting moments of my first
performance on stage. The first act was set in Madrid. Here, I
had nothing to do. I sat in the dressing-room and listened to
what was spoken on stage. Then, they came for me. I strapped on
the drum, put on the feathered hat, and went for my place in the
scenery. Don Fernando, Donna Klara, and also someone else stood
on stage. Overseer Pedro, who had to give me my sign, was leaning
against the opposite part of the scenery. He saw me coming on
with such a forceful stride that he thought I wanted to go
directly and right away out onto the stage. Therefore, he quickly
rose his right hand to tell me to stop. But I took this, most
naturally, for the agreed sign, though the gipsies were not
standing behind me yet, I started to roll my drum, and marched
out, all around the stage. Don Fernando and Donna Klara were
startled and petrified. "Brat!" the overseer shouted at me, when
I marched past him. Standing behind the scenery, he grabbed for
me, in oder to seize me and to pull me to him, but I had already
marched on. From all kinds of places behind the scenery, they
made signs at me, that I should stop and leave the stage; but I
insisted on what we had agreed upon, which was to go three times
all around the stage. "Brat!" the overseer bellowed, when I
passed him by for the second time, and doing this so loudly that,
in spite of the roll of the drum, it echoed throughout the entire
auditorium. The answer came in the form of loud laughter from
there; but I started my third round. "Bravo, bravo!" the cheers
of the audience resounded. Now, finally, the startled manager,
who was playing the part of Don Fernando, started to move again.
He leapt towards me, grasped both of my arms, so that I had to
stop and could not roll my drum any more, and roared at me:
"Boy, have you gone entirely mad? Will you stop it!"
"No, don't stop, go on, on and on!" they called from the
auditorium laughingly.
"Yes, on and on!" I also answered, freeing myself from his grasp.
"The gipsies have to come! Bring out the gang, bring out the
gang!"
"Yes, bring out the gang, bring out the gang!" screamed, hollered,
and cheered the audience.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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