“The psychologist of intimacy,” Arthur Schnitzler has been called. He is that and very much more. His plays reflect his own ebullient spirit, which is Viennese to the core—gay, magical, sensuous and unmoral. He is always charming, always candid, always virile. It is for these reasons, perhaps, that the censors of the world have bestowed upon Arthur Schnitzler their most precious accolade — proscription. However, the Modern Library can pay Arthur Schnitzler no higher tribute than to present his plays, complete and unBowdlerized [sic].