ELIZABETH. I don"t think I quite understand what you mean.
LADY KITTY. Well, there was a poor Italian boy, young Count Castel Giovanni, who was so desperately in love with me that his mother begged me not to be too cruel. She was afraid he"d go into a consumption. What could I do? And then, oh, years later, there was Antonio Melita. He said he"d shoot himself unless I--well, you understand I couldn"t let the poor boy shoot himself.
ELIZABETH. D"you think he really would have shot himself?
LADY KITTY. Oh, one never knows, you know. Those Italians are so pa.s.sionate. He was really rather a lamb. He had such beautiful eyes.
[_ELIZABETH looks at her for a long time and a certain horror seizes her of this dissolute, painted old woman._
ELIZABETH. [_Hoa.r.s.ely._] Oh, but I think that"s--dreadful.
LADY KITTY. Are you shocked? One sacrifices one"s life for love and then one finds that love doesn"t last. The tragedy of love isn"t death or separation. One gets over them. The tragedy of love is indifference.
[_ARNOLD comes in._
ARNOLD. Can I have a little talk with you, Elizabeth?
ELIZABETH. Of course.
ARNOLD. Shall we go for a stroll in the garden?
ELIZABETH. If you like.
LADY KITTY. No, stay here. I"m going out anyway.
[_Exit LADY KITTY._
ARNOLD. I want you to listen to me for a few minutes, Elizabeth. I was so taken aback by what you told me just now that I lost my head. I was rather absurd and I beg your pardon. I said things I regret.
ELIZABETH. Oh, don"t blame yourself. I"m sorry that I should have given you occasion to say them.
ARNOLD. I want to ask you if you"ve quite made up your mind to go.
ELIZABETH. Quite.
ARNOLD. Just now I seem to have said all that I didn"t want to say and nothing that I did. I"m stupid and tongue-tied. I never told you how deeply I loved you.
ELIZABETH. Oh, Arnold!
ARNOLD. Please let me speak now. It"s so very difficult. If I seemed absorbed in politics and the house, and so on, to the exclusion of my interest in you, I"m dreadfully sorry. I suppose it was absurd of me to think you would take my great love for granted.
ELIZABETH. But, Arnold, I"m not reproaching you.
ARNOLD. I"m reproaching myself. I"ve been tactless and neglectful. But I do ask you to believe that it hasn"t been because I didn"t love you.
Can you forgive me?
ELIZABETH. I don"t think that there"s anything to forgive.
ARNOLD. It wasn"t till to-day when you talked of leaving me that I realised how desperately in love with you I was.
ELIZABETH. After three years?
ARNOLD. I"m so proud of you. I admire you so much. When I see you at a party, so fresh and lovely, and everybody wondering at you, I have a sort of little thrill because you"re mine, and afterwards I shall take you home.
ELIZABETH. Oh, Arnold, you"re exaggerating.
ARNOLD. I can"t imagine this house without you. Life seems on a sudden all empty and meaningless. Oh, Elizabeth, don"t you love me at all?
ELIZABETH. It"s much better to be honest. No.
ARNOLD. Doesn"t my love mean anything to you?
ELIZABETH. I"m very grateful to you. I"m sorry to cause you pain. What would be the good of my staying with you when I should be wretched all the time?
ARNOLD. Do you love that man as much as all that? Does my unhappiness mean nothing to you?
ELIZABETH. Of course it does. It breaks my heart. You see, I never knew I meant so much to you. I"m so touched. And I"m so sorry, Arnold, really sorry. But I can"t help myself.
ARNOLD. Poor child, it"s cruel of me to torture you.
ELIZABETH. Oh, Arnold, believe me, I have tried to make the best of it. I"ve tried to love you, but I can"t. After all, one either loves or one doesn"t. Trying is no help. And now I"m at the end of my tether. I can"t help the consequences--I must do what my whole self yearns for.
ARNOLD. My poor child, I"m so afraid you"ll be unhappy. I"m so afraid you"ll regret.
ELIZABETH. You must leave me to my fate. I hope you"ll forget me and all the unhappiness I"ve caused you.
ARNOLD. [_There is a pause. ARNOLD walks up and down the room reflectively. He stops and faces her._] If you love this man and want to go to him I"ll do nothing to prevent you. My only wish is to do what is best for you.
ELIZABETH. Arnold, that"s awfully kind of you. If I"m treating you badly at least I want you to know that I"m grateful for all your kindness to me.
ARNOLD. But there"s one favour I should like you to do me. Will you?
ELIZABETH. Oh, Arnold, of course I"ll do anything I can.
ARNOLD. Teddie hasn"t very much money. You"ve been used to a certain amount of luxury, and I can"t bear to think that you should do without anything you"ve had. It would kill me to think that you were suffering any hardship or privation.
ELIZABETH. Oh, but Teddie can earn enough for our needs. After all, we don"t want much money.
ARNOLD. I"m afraid my mother"s life hasn"t been very easy, but it"s obvious that the only thing that"s made it possible is that Porteous was rich. I want you to let me make you an allowance of two thousand a year.
ELIZABETH. Oh, no, I couldn"t think of it. It"s absurd.
ARNOLD. I beg you to accept it. You don"t know what a difference it will make.
ELIZABETH. It"s awfully kind of you, Arnold. It humiliates me to speak about it. Nothing would induce me to take a penny from you.
ARNOLD. Well, you can"t prevent me from opening an account at my bank in your name. The money shall be paid in every quarter whether you touch it or not, and if you happen to want it, it will be there waiting for you.
ELIZABETH. You overwhelm me, Arnold. There"s only one thing I want you to do for me. I should be very grateful if you would divorce me as soon as you possibly can.