"What am I going to do with you?

"Whatever you like," I answered, resigned, "whatever gives you pleasure."

"How inconsistent!" she cried. "First you want me as your wife and now you give yourself to me as a toy."

"Wanda-I love you."

"Then we're back where we started. You love me and want me as your wife. But I don't care to remarry, because I doubt that my and your feelings will be permanent."

"What if I take the chance?" I rejoined.

"Then it all depends on whether I want to take the chance with you," she murmured. "I can well imagine belonging to one man for life, but it would have to be a total man, a man who commands my respect, who subjugates me with the power of who and what he is-do you understand? And every man-I know this-turns weak, pliant, ridiculous as soon as he's in love. He puts himself in the woman's hands, kneels before her-whereas I can love only the man before whom I would kneel. But I've grown so fond of you that I want to try it with you."

...

We spent an afternoon on the meadow, at the feet of the Venus statue. I was picking flowers and tossing them into Wanda's lap, and she was binding them into wreaths for adorning our Goddess.

Suddenly Wanda gave me such a peculiar, bewildering look that my passion blazed over my head like flames. Losing control of myself, I threw my arms around her and clung to her lips and she-she pressed me against her heaving bosom.

"Are you angry," I then asked her.

"I never get angry at anything that is natural," she replied. "I'm just worried that you're suffering."

"Oh, I'm suffering terribly."

"Poor friend." She brushed the tangled hair from my forehead. "Not because of me, I hope."

"No--" I answered. "And yet my love for you has turned into a kind of madness. I'm tormented day and night by the thought that I can lose you, perhaps lose you."

"But you don't even possess me as yet," said Wanda, with those same moist quivering, consuming eyes that had already once swept me away. Then she stood up, and her small, translucent hands placed a wreath of blue anemones on the white curly hair of Venus. Half reluctantly I put my arms around Wanda's waist.

"I can't live without you anymore, you beautiful woman," I said. "Believe me, just this once, believe me. It's no claptrap, no fantasy. I feel deep in my innermost core that my life is tied to yours. If you leave me, I'll perish, I'll wither away."

"That won't be necessary, for I love you." She took hold of my chin. "Silly!"

"But you're willing to be mine only under certain conditions, while I belong to you unconditionally--"

"That's not wise, Severin," she replied, almost startled. "Don't you know me yet, don't you even want to know me? I am good if I am treated earnestly and reasonably. But if one submits to me too deeply, then I become arrogant--"

"Then be that! Be arrogant, be despotic," I cried in utter exaltation, "only be mine, be mine forever." I lay at her feet, with my arms around her knees.

"This won't end well, my friend," she said earnestly, without stirring.

"Oh, but it should never end!" I cried ecitedly, intensely. "Only death should separate us. If you can't be mine, all mine and forever, then I want to be your slave, serve you, tolerate anything from you-only just don't push me away."

"Pull yourself together," she said, leaning over and kissing my forehead. "I'm very fond of you, but that's not the way to conquer me, to hold on to me."

"I'm willing to do anything, anything you like-I just don't want to lose you," I cried. "Just not that-I can't stand the thought of it!"

"Stand up."

I obeyed.

"You are truly a strange person," Wanda went on. "So you want to possess me at any price?"

"Yes, at any price."

"But what good would it do you to possess me--?" she mused--there was something lurking, something sinister in her eyes-- "if I stopped loving you, if I belonged to someone else?"

Cold shivers ran down my spine. I looked at her: she stood before me, so solid and self-assured, and her eyes had a cold glint.

"You see," she said. "You are terrified at the very thought." Suddenly her face beamed with a charming smile.

"Yes, I'm horrified when I vividly imagine that a woman whom I love, who has requited my love, could give herself to another man without showing me the slightest compassion. But do I have a choice? If I love that woman, love her madly, should I proudly turn my back on her and let my boastful strength destroy me? Should I blow my brains out? I have to female ideals. If I can't find my noble, sunny ideal, a kind and faithful woman to share my life, then I won't put up with anything halfway, anything lukewarm! I would rather submit to a woman with no virtue, no fidelity, no compassion. Such a woman in her selfish grandeur is also an ideal. If I can't enjoy the full and total happiness of love, then I want to drain its torments, its tortures to the dregs; then I want the woman I love to mistreat me, betray me, and the more cruelly the better. That too is a pleasure."

"Are you insane?" cried Wanda.

"I love you with all my soul," I continued, "with all my sense, and so deeply that your nearness, your atmosphere are indespensable to me if I am to go on living. So choose between my ideals, Madam. Make of me what you will, your husband or your slave."

Labels: love

kitten posted @ 10:07 AM