Kazanlak

A soft, creeping noise could be heard, as the ladies, with their fingers on their lips, slipped away from behind the curtains.“I have loved you for a long time,” said the Red Scoundrel in...

She lay resting on a large sofa when the Red Bone (that was what they called the Scarlet Count among themselves) entered the room. She rose and went to meet him, offering him a...

The Count opened his eyes wide. He was known as an admirer of feminine charms, but had never had any success with ladies of rank. His face was gleaming with joy.“I have ground silver...

Thus wailed the Maestro, bending to the floor again and again to stroke his long whiskers.Suddenly, in the midst of his distress, he heard footsteps in the corridor. In a moment the door opened,...

The Maestro looked at this bit of gold and scratched his head. Count Scarlet had flown into a violent temper the night before. He was tired of having had him on his back for...

Ferenc Molnar (1878-1952)Molnar was born in 1878 in Budapest, the son, according to the translator of his plays, “of a Jewish medical practioner. He graduated from the Universities of Geneva and Budapest. His literary...

VI. The Melody of GriefA pale dawn hovered. With the first gleams the sea awoke, stretching its golden scales. Across the heavens as purple as martyred flesh flew black arrows of birds. And a...

V. FeverAnd because on one dazzling morning the light revealed her de-formation, Pygmalion foresaw her inevitable fate. Without wakening her, when night came he took his chisel and struck her bosom a blow. There...

IV. WearinessThought Pygmalion, not daring to say it in words: “O godly form, despite your divine origin, you shall die. Worm and rot, instead of the eternity that I have dreamed. To reveal to...

III. The InitiationPygmalion became her master and her guide. This manner of teaching filled him with a confused intoxication, like to that of one who models the cherished image in wax. And, as the...