Chapter 21 tenth scene

Ryan walked into the lounge of the theater in his Hamlet Heights, and he was accompanied by a man who was as thin as a stick, but with a drooping cheek, trembling with every step he took.The theater has a walkway leading directly to the magnificent hall of Hamlet's Heights, and the entrance side is a full glass wall.Unlike ordinary theaters, the interior is covered with gleaming gold leaf. It is mainly composed of brass and marble. There is a striking statue in the center. The copper plate of the pedestal is a copy of the famous memorial essay of the British poet Sir Gower - Shakespeare sitting proudly On the high platform, on both sides of the bottom stand Lady Macbeth, Hamlet, Prince Hal and Falstaff.At the back, behind the foyer, was a steel theater front door.

Ren stared seriously at the lips of his partner who was gesticulating and speaking—bending his slender body, he opened the big copper door, and the two entered the theater.There are no seats in the theater, no general rococo decoration, and no crystal lamps hanging from the ceiling—no boxes, and no large murals hanging like mountains and seas. On the stage, a balding young man in dirty overalls stands erect on a ladder, drawing stage sets.He waved the brush in his hand handsomely, and an impressionistic picture began to emerge magically in the center of the background—two simple straight lines outline a street, and the outer sides of the two lines are twisted and deformed houses.

"It's great, Fritz!" The person who applauded loudly was Ren, who stopped at the entrance of the theater and applauded the young painter, "I like it very much." Although facing the entire empty theater, But Ryan's cheers did not even have the slightest echo. "Okay," said Wren, taking the seat in the back row, "listen to me, Anton Koroputkin, you really underestimate the potential power of your compatriot's work, lurking in the rough exterior Now, with true Russian enthusiasm, your direct translation of this play into English would definitely dilute the original strong Slavic sensibility in the work: as for an adaptation in Anglo-Saxon form, your dreadful proposal, I think it will..."

At this time, the big bronze door was pushed open, and Kuishi's thin and bouncing body staggered into the theater.Koroputkin turned around in response, and Ren, who could not hear the sound, followed the Russian and looked towards the door. "Kissy, are you disturbing the sanctity of the play?" Ren asked emotionally, and immediately, his eyes narrowed, "You look exhausted, what's the matter? You clock tower brunette Quasimo many." Kuisi fell into the nearest chair and muttered a few words as a greeting to the tall Koroputkin.Then, he complained, "I've had a whole day—God, have such a good day, tired? I—almost fell apart!"

Ren patted Old Quasi's hand, as if this old man with a hunchback and wrinkled face was just a wronged child, "Dwarf, have you gained something?" A row of teeth flashed out of Quesib's leathery old face, "How is this possible? Do consuls from all South American countries work like this? It's a shame. They're all out of town and on vacation...that's it , no one was there, I spent three hours on the phone in vain, and—” "Quisi, Quisi," Reith interrupted him, "you have to be patient with these people, have you contacted the Uruguayan consulate as well?"

"Uruguay? Uruguay?" the old man creaked, "I don't think there is one, Uruguay? Is there such a country in South America?" "Yes, and I believe that if you try there again, you may have better luck." Kuisi made a grimace, which was indeed a rather ugly face, and then, without malice, he knocked Koroputkin's ribs forcefully, and walked out of the theater with a bang. "You bloody rat!" said Koroputkin gruffly, "don't break my ribs." Ten minutes later, Koroputkin, Fritz, and Ryan were sitting together discussing a new script, and old Kuisi walked slowly into the theater again, this time with a smile on his face. "Oh, what a marvelous offer, Monsieur Wren, the great Uruguayan consul will not be back until Saturday, October 10."

Koroputkin stepped on the aisle with big feet, and Ren frowned. "Bad luck," he whispered. "Is he on vacation too?" "Exactly. He went back to Uruguay. No one in the consulate could—or would—provide any information. The consul's name was Joan Ajos, ​​A-J-O-S..." "I'm serious," Fritz, who had been thinking seriously, said at this moment, "Mr. Wren, I intend to do an experiment with this opera." "Ahes—" Quesy blinked, but continued to talk about him. "What did you say? Fritz." Ren asked. "How about dividing the stage in half horizontally? It's not technically difficult."

"I was on the phone just now—" Kuisi tried to intervene again, but Ren's eyes fell on Fritz's mouth at this moment. "It deserves serious consideration, Fritz." The old actor answered the drama side, "You—" Quesy pulled Ren's arm anxiously, and Ren turned to him, "Oh, Quesy, what else do you want?" "I've been trying to tell you," Quisy said indignantly, "Inspector Sam called and said he had just detained DeWitt." Ren waved his hand coldly, "Stupid, but it's good for me. Anything else to say?" The hunched old Quasi touched his bald forehead, "the inspector said they would prosecute DeWitt as soon as possible, but the court will not be held for about a month. He said that the criminal court is still in recess until October, and so on."

"If that's the case," said Ryan, "we'll let Mr. Hoan Ahus spend his vacation in peace, and you can rest well too, Caliban, you're all right!  … Now, Fernando Ryze, let's talk about your idea again."