Leon (alone).--I cannot overcome my emotion nor can I tranquillize the throbbing of my heart. Three times have I touched the bell and three times have I wished to retreat. I am troubled. Why does she wish to see me! (Takes out a letter). "Be so kind as to come to see me on a very important matter. In spite of all that has happened I hope you will not refuse to grant the request of--a woman. Jadwiga Karlowiecka." Perhaps it would have been better and more honest to have left this letter without an answer. But I see that I have cheated myself in thinking that nothing will happen, and that it would be brutal of me not to come. The soul--poor moth--flies toward the light which may burn, but can neither warm nor light it. What has attracted me here? Is it love? Can I answer the question as to whether I still love this woman--so unlike my pure sweetheart of former years--this half lioness, whose reputation has been torn to shreds by human tongues? No! It is rather some painful curiosity which has attracted me here. It is the unmeasurable grief which in two years I have been unable to appease, that desire for a full explanation: "Why?" has been repeated over and over during my sleepless nights. And then let her see this emaciated face--let her look from nearby on that broken life.
I could not resist. Such vengeance is my right. I shall be proud enough to set my teeth to stifle all groans. What is done cannot be undone, and I swear to myself that it shall never be done again.
SCENE II.
Jadwiga (entering).--You must excuse me for keeping you waiting.
Leon.--It is my fault. I came too early, although I tried to be exact.
Jadwiga.--No, I must be frank and tell you how it happened. In former times we were such dear friends, and then we have not seen each other for two years. I asked you to come, but I was not sure that you would grant my request, therefore--when the bell rang--after two years--(smiling) I needed a few moments to overcome the emotion. I thought it was necessary for both of us.
Leon.--I am calm, madam, and I listen to you.
Jadwiga.--I wished also that we should greet each other like people who have forgotten about the past, who know that it will not return, and to be at once on the footing of good friends; I do not dare say like brother and sisters. Therefore, Sir, here is my hand, and now be seated and tell me if you accept my proposition.
Leon.--I leave that to you.
Jadwiga.--If that is so, then I must tell you that such an agreement, based on mutual well-wishing, excludes excessive solemnity. We must be natural, sincere, and frank.
Leon.--Frankly speaking, it will be a little difficult, still.
Jadwiga.--It would be difficult if there were no condition: "Not a word about the past!" If we both keep to this, a good understanding will return of itself and in time we may become good friends. What have you been doing during the past two years?
Leon.--I have been pushing the wheelbarrow of life, as all mortals do. Every Monday I have thought that in a week there would be another Monday. I a.s.sure you that there is some distraction in seeing the days spin out like a thread from a ball, and how everything that has happened goes away and gradually disappears, like a migratory bird.
Jadwiga.--Such distraction is good for those to whom another bird comes with a song of the future. But otherwise--
Leon.--Otherwise it is perhaps better to think that when all threads will be spun out from the ball, there will remain nothing. Sometimes the reminiscences are very painful. Happily time dulls their edge, or they would p.r.i.c.k like thorns.
Jadwiga.--Or would burn like fire.
Leon.--All-wise Nature gives us some remedy for it. A fire which is not replenished must die, and the ashes do not burn.
Jadwiga.--We are unwillingly chasing a bird which has flown away.
Enough of it! Have you painted much lately?
Leon.--I do nothing else. I think and I paint. It is true that until now my thoughts have produced nothing, and I have painted a very little. But it was not my fault. Better be good enough to tell me what has caused you to call me here.
Jadwiga.--It will come by itself. In the first place, I should be justified in so doing by a desire to see a great man. You are now an artist whose fame is world-wide.
Leon--I would appear to be guilty of conceit, but I honestly think that I was not the last p.a.w.n on the chessboard in the drawing-room, and that is perhaps the reason why I have been thinking during the past two years and could not understand why I was thrown aside like a common p.a.w.n.
Jadwiga.--And where is our agreement?
Leon.--It is a story told in a subjective way by a third person.
According to the second clause in our agreement--"sincerity"--I must add that I am already accustomed to my wheelbarrow.
Jadwiga.--We must not speak about it.
Leon.--I warn you--it will be difficult.
Jadwiga.--It should be more easy for you. You, the elect of art and the pride of the whole nation, and in the mean while its spoiled child--you can live with your whole soul in the present and in the future. From the flowers strewn under one"s feet, one can always chose the most beautiful, or not choose at all, but always tread upon them.
Leon.--If one does not stumble.
Jadwiga.--No! To advance toward immortality.
Leon.--Longing for death while on the road.
Jadwiga.--It is an excess of pessimism for a man who says that he is accustomed to his wheelbarrow.
Leon.--I wish only to show the other side of the medal. And then you must remember, madam, that to-day pessimism is the mode. You must not take my words too seriously. In a drawing-room one strings the words of a conversation like beads on a thread--it is only play.
Jadwiga.--Let us play then (after a while). Ah! How many changes! I cannot comprehend. If two years ago some one had told me that to-day we would sit far apart from each other, and chat as we do, and look at each other with watchful curiosity, like two people perfectly strange to each other, I could not have believed. Truly, it is utterly amusing!
Leon.--It would not be proper for me to remind you of our agreement.
Jadwiga.--But nevertheless you do remind me. Thank you. My nerves are guilty for this melancholy turn of the conversation. But I feel it is not becoming to me. But pray be a.s.sured that I shall not again enter that th.o.r.n.y path, if for no other reason than that of self-love. I, too, amuse myself as best I can, and I return to my reminiscences only when wearied. For several days I have been greatly wearied.
Leon.--Is that the reason why you asked me to come here? I am afraid that I will not be an abundant source of distraction. My disposition is not very gay, and I am too proud, too honest, and--too costly to become a plaything. Permit me to leave you.
Jadwiga.--You must forgive me. I did not mean to offend you. Without going back to the past, I can tell you that pride is your greatest fault, and if it were not for that pride, many sad things would not have happened.
Leon.--Without going back to the past, I must answer you that it is the only sail which remained on my boat. The others are torn by the wind of life. If it were not for this last sail, I should have sunk long ago.
Jadwiga.--And I think that it was a rock on which has been wrecked not only your boat--but no matter! So much the worse for those who believed in fair weather and a smooth sea. We must at least prevent ourselves from now being carried where we do not wish to sail.
Leon.--And where the sandy banks are sure--
Jadwiga.--What strange conversation! It seems to me that it is a net, in which the truth lies at the bottom, struggling in vain to break the meshes. But perhaps it is better so.
Leon.--Much better. Madam, you have written me that you wished to see me on an important matter. I am listening.
Jadwiga.--Yes (smiling). It is permitted a society woman to have her fancies and desires--sometimes inexplicable fancies, and it is not permitted a gentleman to refuse them. Well, then, I wished to see my portrait, painted by the great painter Leon. Would you be willing to paint it?
Leon.--Madam--
Jadwiga.--Ah! the lion"s forehead frowns, as if my wish were an insult.
Leon.--I think that the fancies of a society woman are indeed inexplicable, and do not look like jokes at all.
Jadwiga.--This question has two sides! The first is the formal side and it shows itself thus: Mme. Jadwiga Karlowiecka most earnestly asks the great painter Leon to make her portrait. That is all! The painter Leon, who, it is known, paints lots of portraits, has no good reason for refusing. The painter cannot refuse to make a portrait any more than a physician can refuse his a.s.sistance. There remains the other side--the past. But we agreed that it is a forbidden subject.
Leon.--Permit me, madam--
Jadwiga (interrupting).--Pray, not a word about the past. (She laughs.) Ah, my woman"s diplomacy knows how to tie a knot and draw tight the ends of it. How your embarra.s.sment pleases me. But there is something quite different. Let us suppose that I am a vain person, full of womanly self-love; full of petty jealousy and envy. Well, you have painted the portrait of Mme. Zofia and of Helena. I wish to have mine also. One does not refuse the women such things. Reports of your fame come to me from all sides. I hear all around me the words: "Our great painter--our master!" Society lionizes you. G.o.d knows how many b.r.e.a.s.t.s sigh for you. Every one can have your works, every one can approach you, see you, be proud of you. I alone, your playmate, your old friend, I alone am as though excommunicated.