The Awakening of Spring Part 17

HANS RILOW.

(_With a light in his hand, fastens the door behind him and opens the lid._)

"Have you prayed to-night, Desdemona?" (_He takes a reproduction of the Venus of Palma Vecchio from his bosom._)----Thou wilt not appear to me after the Our Father, darling,----as in that moment of antic.i.p.ated bliss when I saw thee contemplatively expectant of someone's coming, lying in Jonathan Schlesinger's shop window----just as enticing as thou art now, with these supple limbs, these softly arched hips, these plump, youthful b.r.e.a.s.t.s.----Oh how intoxicated with joy the great master must have been when his glance strayed over the fourteen-year-old original stretched out upon the divan!

Wilt thou not visit me for awhile in my dreams? I will receive thee with widely open arms and will kiss thee until thou art breathless.

Thou drawest me onward as the enchanted princess in her deserted castle. Portals and doors open themselves as if by an unseen hand, while the fountain in the park below begins to splash joyously----

"It is the cause!----It is the cause!" The frightful beating in my breast shows thee that I do not murder thee from frivolous emotion.

The thought of my lonely nights is strangling me. I swear to thee, child, on my soul, that it is not satiety which rules me. Who could ever boast of being satiated of thee!

But thou suckest the marrow from my bones, thou bendest my back, thou robbest my youthful eyes of their last spark of brilliancy.----Thou art so arrogant toward me in thy inhuman modesty, so galling with thy immovable limbs!----Thou or I! And I have won the victory.

Suppose I count them----all those who sleep, with whom I have fought the same battle here----: Psyche by Thumann--another bequest from the spindle-shanked Mademoiselle Angelique, that rattlesnake in the paradise of my childhood; Io by Corregio; Galathea by Lossow; then a Cupid by Bouguereau; Ada by J. van Beers--that Ada whom I had to abduct from a secret drawer in Papa's secretary in order to incorporate in my harem; a trembling, modest Leda by Makart, whom I found by chance among my brother's college books----seven, thou blooming candidate for death, have preceded thee upon this path to Tartarus. Let that be a consolation unto thee, and seek not to increase my torments at this enormity by that fleeting look.

Thou diest not for thy sins, thou diest on account of mine!----As protection against myself I go to my seventh wife-murder with a bleeding heart. There is something tragic in the role of Bluebeard. I believe the combined sufferings of his murdered wives did not equal the torments he underwent each time he strangled one of them.

But my thoughts will become more peaceful, my body will strengthen itself, when thou, thou little devil, residest no longer in the red satin padding of my jewel case. In place of thee, I will indulge in wanton joyousness with Bodenhausen's Lurlei or Linger's Forsaken One, or Defregger's Loni--so I should be all the quicker! But a quarter of a year more, perhaps thy unveiled charms, sweet soul, would begin to consume my poor head as the sun does a pat of b.u.t.ter. It is high time to declare the divorce from bed and board.

Brrr! I feel a Heliogablus within me? Moritura me salutat! Maiden, maiden, why dost thou press thy knees together?----Why now of all times?----In face of the inscrutable eternity?----A movement and I will spare thy life!----A womanly emotion, a sign of pa.s.sion, of sympathy, maiden!----I will frame thee in gold, and hang thee over my bed! Doest thou not guess that only thy chast.i.ty begets my debauchery?----Woe, woe, unto the inhuman ones!----

One always perceives that they received an exemplary education----It is just so with me.

"Have you prayed to-night, Desdemona?"

My heart contracts,----madness!----St. Agnes also died for her reserve and was not half as naked as thou!----Another kiss upon thy blooming body----upon thy childish swelling breast--upon thy sweetly rounded--thy cruel knees----

"It is the cause, it is the cause, my soul, Let me not name it to you, you chaste stars! It is the cause!"----

(_The picture falls into the depths, he shuts the lid._)

FOURTH SCENE.

_A haymow. Melchior lies on his back in the fresh hay. Wendla comes up the ladder._

WENDLA.

Here's where you've hid yourself?----They're all hunting for you. The wagon is outside again. You must help. There's a storm coming up.

MELCHIOR.

Go away from me! Go away from me!

WENDLA.

What's the matter with you?----Why are you hiding your face?

MELCHIOR.

Out! out! I'll throw you down on the floor below.

WENDLA.

Now for certain I'm not going.--(_Kneels down by him._) Why won't you come out with me into the meadow, Melchior?----Here it is hot and dark. Suppose we do get wet to the skin, what difference will that make to us!

MELCHIOR.

The hay smells so fine.----The sky outside must be as black as a pall----I only see the brilliant poppy on your breast----and I hear your heart beating----

WENDLA.

Don't kiss me, Melchior!----Don't kiss me!

MELCHIOR.

Your heart----I hear beating----

WENDLA.

People love----when they kiss----Don't, don't!

MELCHIOR.

Oh, believe me, there's no such thing as love! Everything is selfishness, everything is egotism!----I love you as little as you love me.

WENDLA.

Don't----don't, Melchior!----

MELCHIOR.

Wendla!

WENDLA.

Oh, Melchior!----Don't, don't----

FIFTH SCENE.

FRAU GABOR.

(_Sits writing._)

_Dear Herr Stiefel_:--After twenty-four hours of consideration and reconsideration of all you have written me, I take up my pen with a heavy heart. I cannot furnish you with the necessary amount for the voyage to America--I give you my word of honor. In the first place, I have not that much to my credit, and in the second place, if I had, it would be the greatest sin imaginable for me to put into your hands the means of accomplishing such an ill-considered measure. You will be doing me a bitter wrong, Herr Stiefel, if you see a sign of lack of love in my refusal. On the contrary, it would be the greatest neglect of my duty as your motherly friend were I to allow myself to be affected by your temporary lack of determination, so that I also lost my head and blindly followed my first fleeting impulse. I am very ready--in case you desire it--to write to your parents. I should seek to convince your parents that you have done what you could during this quarter, that you have exhausted your strength, that a rigorous judgment of your case would not only be inadvisable, but might be in the greatest degree prejudicial to your mental and bodily health.

That you imply a threat to take your own life in case flight is impossible for you, to speak plainly, has somewhat surprised me. No matter how undeserving is a misfortune, Herr Stiefel, one should never choose improper means to escape it. The way in which you, to whom I have always done only good, want to make me responsible for a possible frightful action on your part, has something about it which, in the eyes of an evil-thinking person, might be misconstrued very easily. I must confess that this outbreak of yours--you who know so well what one owes to oneself--is the last thing for which I was prepared. However, I cherish the strong conviction that you are laboring yet too much under the shock of your first fright to be able to understand completely your action.