Part 57 (2/2)
Yet his energetic nature did not need much time to recover its poise.
One glance at the hopeless, drooping woman showed him that this was not the hour to think of himself--that he never had more serious duties to perform than to-day. Now he perceived for the first time that he had unconsciously retreated from her half the length of the room.
She held out her hand imploringly, and with the swiftness of thought he was once more at her side, clasping it in his own. ”I have concealed this, deceived your great, n.o.ble love--for years--because I perceived that you were as necessary to my life as reason and science and all the other gifts I once undervalued. I did not venture to reveal the secret, lest I should lose you. The moment has come--you will leave me, for you must now make another choice--but do not be angry, grant me the _one_ consolation of parting without rancor.”
”We have not yet gone so far. I told you ten minutes ago that the accidents of temperament and circ.u.mstance may divide us, but cannot rob you of what was created for me, we do not part so quickly.--You have not deceived me, for you have never told me that you loved me or would become my wife, and your bearing was blameless. Your husband might have witnessed every moment of our intercourse. Believe me, the slightest coquetry, the smallest concession in my favor at your husband's expense would find in me the sternest possible judge. But though an unhappy wife, you were a loyal one--to that I can bear witness. If I yielded to illusions, it is no fault of yours--who can expect a nature so delicately strung as yours to make an executioner of the heart of her best friend? Those are violent measures which would not accord with the sweet weakness, which renders you at once so guilty and so excusable.”
The countess hid her face as if overwhelmed by remorse and shame.
”Do not let us lose our composure and trust to me to care for you still, for your present position requires the utmost caution and prudence. But now, Madeleine--you have no further pretext for not telling me the whole truth! Now I must know _all_ to be able to act.
Will you answer my questions?”
”Yes.”
”Then tell me--are you really married to Freyer?”
”Yes!”
”So the farce must end tragically!” murmured the duke. ”I cannot, will not believe it--it is too shocking that a woman like you should be ruined by the Ammergau farce.”
”Not by that; by the presumption with which I sought to draw the deity down to me. Oh, it is a hard punishment. I prayed so fervently to G.o.d and, instead of His face, He showed me a mask and then left me to atone for the deception by the repentance of a whole life.”
”Ah, can you really believe that the Highest Wisdom would have played so cruel a masquerade with you? Why should you be so terribly punished?
No, _ma chere amie_, G.o.d has neither deceived nor wished to punish you.
He showed Himself in response to your longing, or rather your longing made you imagine that you saw Him--and had you been content with that, you would have returned home happy with the vision of your G.o.d in your heart, like thousands who were elevated by the Pa.s.sion Play. But you wanted _more_; you possess a sensuous religious nature, which cannot separate the essence from the _appearance_ and, after having _seen_, you desired to _possess_ Him in the precise form in which He appeared to you! Had it depended upon you, you would have robbed the world of its G.o.d! Fortunately, it was only Herr Freyer whom you stole, and now that you perceive your error you accuse G.o.d of having deceived you. You talk constantly of your faith in G.o.d, and yet have so poor an opinion of Him? What had G.o.d to do with your imagining that the poor actor in the Pa.s.sion Play, who wore His mask, must be Himself, and therefore wedded him!”
The countess made no reply. This was the tone which she could never endure. He was everything to her--her sole confidant and counselor--but he could not comprehend what she had experienced during the Pa.s.sion Play.
”I am once more the dry sceptic who so often angered you, am I not?”
said the Prince, whose keen observation let nothing escape. ”But I flatter myself that you will be more ready to view matters from a sober standpoint after having convinced yourself of the dangers of intercourse with 'phantoms' and demi-G.o.ds, who lure their victims into devious paths where they are liable morally to break their necks.”
The countess could not help smiling sorrowfully. ”You are incorrigible!”
”Well, we must take things as they are. As you will not confess that you--pardon the frankness--have committed a folly and ruined your life for the sake of a fanciful whim, the caprice must be elevated to the rank of a 'dispensation of Providence,' and the inactive endurance of its consequences a meritorious martyrdom. But I do not believe that G.o.d is guilty either of your marriage or of your self-const.i.tuted martyrdom, and therefore I tell you that I do not regard your marriage, to use the common parlance, one of those 'made in Heaven'--in other words, an _indissoluble_ one.”
The countess shrank as though her inmost thoughts were suddenly pointing treacherous fingers at her. ”Do you take it so lightly, Duke?”
”That I do not take it lightly is proved by the immense digression which I made to remove any moral and religious scruples. The practical side of the question scarcely requires discussion. But to settle the religious moral one first, tell me, was your marriage a civil or religious one?”
”Religious.”
”When and where?”
”At Prankenberg, after the Pa.s.sion Play. It will be ten years next August.”
”How did it all happen?”
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