"But will Ignatius Nagy like to do it?"
"What! When I bring him such work as yours! He is a great enemy of mine, I know, but he is a man of honour."
And with that he thrust my manuscript into his knapsack, but without locking it.
"And what else have you written?"
I produced another heap of papers.
"A play entitled Two Guardians."
"And what do you want to do with it?"
"To compete for the Academy prize."
"Don't do that! I won't allow you. You competed once, and they did not give you the prize, and yet two Academicians were on your side; don't give them any more. Give your pieces to the theatre."
I had nothing for it but to surrender.