[51] “I do not recollect going to parties, save to those given twice a year by the manager, Count Skorupka; one dancing party during the Carnival and another at Easter time, and then I danced! Oh, how I danced! with all my soul in it, for I never did anything by halves. Still I preferred the few receptions at my brother’s house.”—Memories and Impressions.
[52] Gustave Modrzejewski had died some time before.
[53] Ten thousand dollars.
[54] Over two thousand dollars.
[55] On one occasion Modjeska acted as an impromptu reporter for her husband’s paper, proving the reliability of her stage-trained memory. Liebelt, the scientist, delivered a lecture on Spectrum Analysis, and as no stenographic reporter was to be had, Modjeska went to the hall, listened intently to the lecturer and although the subject was absolutely new to her, went home and wrote a complete résumé of the lecture, technical and Latin words included. Her report was printed, while that of a reporter was used merely as an introduction.
[56] “Mrs. Helena.”
[57] Her repertoire at Warsaw had been wide-ranged and long, embracing translations of Shakespeare, and of many French and German plays as well as the numerous Polish parts. She introduced the obvious but hitherto neglected method of playing Shakespeare in a Polish translation directly from the English, instead of through a French version.
[58] In 1877 Edwin Booth had, rightly enough, declined to play with Modjeska. In 1889, however, it was another story. Lawrence Barrett, at that time Booth’s manager, proposed her appearance as a “co-star.” Modjeska gladly availed herself of the opportunity to act with Mr. Booth, and played with him in Hamlet, Macbeth, The Merchant of Venice, Much Ado about Nothing, and Richelieu. The tour took them throughout the East and the Middle West.
[59] The entire party would leave their farm and go on short vacation trips. Of one of these, Modjeska says: “I listened and looked at everything, but I grew quite sad when I turned my eyes toward the ocean. The blue waters of the great Pacific reminded me of our first sea-voyage when we left our country. The recollections of the happy past, spent among beloved people,—Cracow, with its churches and monuments, the kind friends waiting for our return, the stage, and the dear public I left behind,—all came back to my mind, and I felt a great acute pang of homesickness. I stepped away from the rest, threw myself on the sand and sobbed and sobbed, mingling my moans with those of the ocean, until, exhausted, I had not one drop of tears left in my eyes. A sort of torpor took the place of despair, and the world became a vast emptiness, sad and without any charm.”
[60] Of the Imperial Theatre in Warsaw.