Chapter 5 chapter Five

Forgive me, please forgive me for saying these things.But it was only this time that I spoke of these things, and never again.I've been silent about it for eleven years, and soon I'll be silent for eternity: there's got to be one time, let me yell, let me say, what a price I paid for this child, this child Is all my happiness, and now he lies there, not breathing.I saw the child's smile, heard his voice, and I had already forgotten those painful moments completely in the blissful intoxication; but now, the child is dead, and these pains are vivid in front of my eyes. Once, had to call them out from the heart.But I don't blame you, I only blame God, who made this pain so useless.I don't blame you, I swear to you, I've never been mad at you, lost my temper.Even when my body writhed with pain, even when pain tore my soul, I did not accuse you before God; I never regretted those nights, never condemned My love for you.I've always loved you, and I've always admired the moment you and I met.If I had to go to this hell again, and knew in advance what kind of torture I was going to suffer, I would go through it again, my dear, once again, a thousand times over!

My boy died yesterday - you never saw him.You never glanced at this handsome little man, your child, as you passed by, and you never even had the chance to meet him in a hurry by chance.After I gave birth to this child, I lived in seclusion, and did not see you for a long time; my longing for you has become less painful, and I feel that my love for you has not been as passionate as it used to be, since heaven At least I don't suffer so much from my love since he was given to me.I don't want to divide myself into two, half for you and half for him, so I will do my best to take care of the child, and leave you as the lucky one, you are very comfortable without me, but the child needs me and I have to take care of it He, I can kiss him, I can hold him in my arms.I seem to have escaped my restless thoughts about you, my doom, seem to be saved by your other you, actually mine - only rare, very rare cases Only then will I have the idea of ​​humbly going to your room.I only do one thing: on your birthday, I always send you a bouquet of white roses, exactly the same as the ones you gave me after our first night together.Have you ever asked once in these ten or eleven years, who sent the flowers?Maybe you have memories of the woman you once gave this rose to?I don't know, and I won't know your answer.I just hand you flowers from the secret, once a year, to awaken your memory of that moment - so for me, my wish is fulfilled.

You never saw him, our poor boy--I blame myself today for keeping you from seeing him, because if you had, you would love him.You never saw the poor boy, never saw him smile, never lift his eyelids slightly, and look into his wise black eyes--your eyes! -- cast a bright and cheerful light upon me, and upon the world.Oh, how bright and sweet he is: all the frivolity of your character is reproduced in him innocently, your quick and active imagination is reproduced in him: he can play with it like a charm for hours on end. Toys, just like your voice in the game, and then raised your eyebrows, sitting solemnly reading a book.He was becoming more and more like you; your characteristic duality of seriousness and playfulness had begun to develop distinctly in him.The more he resembles you, the more I love him.He was good at studies, he could talk French like a little magpie, his homework book was the neatest in the class, he was so handsome, and he looked so good in his black velvet suit or his white sailor suit. hansome.Wherever he goes, he is always the most fashionable; every time I take him for a walk on the beach in Grado, the women stop and touch his long golden hair, he is sledding in the Semmering, people They all turned to admire him.He was so handsome, so delicate, so agreeable: last year he entered the boarding school of the Dresser Secondary School, put on a uniform and wore a short sword, and looked like a court boy in the eighteenth century! --but he has nothing on him now but a little shirt, poor boy, and there he lies with his pale lips and his hands clasped.

You may ask me how it is possible for my child to be educated in a wealthy environment, how can it be possible for him to lead a bright and happy life in the upper class.My dearest, I speak to you in the dark; I am not ashamed, and I am going to tell you this, but fear not, dear—I am sold.I didn't become what people call a street pheasant, I didn't become a whore, but I sold myself.I've had rich boyfriends, rich lovers: first I went to them, then they came to me because I -- did you ever notice? --It looks very beautiful.Every man I've committed myself to likes me, they all appreciate me, they all cling to me, they all love me, only you, only you are not, my darling!

I tell you, I sold myself, will you despise me for it?No, I know, you don't despise me.I know, you know it all, and you will understand that I am only doing this for you, for your alter ego, for your children.I was exposed to the horrors of poverty in that ward of the maternity hospital, and I knew that in this world, the poor are always trampled on, abused, always sacrificed.I don't want, I don't want your child, your bright and beautiful child, to be doomed here at the bottom, in the rubbish heap of the back alley, in rotten, mean surroundings, in a back room Growing up in a dirty air.Don't let his delicate lips speak those slang words, don't let his white body wear the musty and crumpled clothes of poor people - your child should have everything, all the wealth in the world, all the ease Pleasantly, he should also rise to your level and enter your circle of life.

So for this reason alone, my love, I sell myself.It is not a sacrifice to me, because what the world calls honor and disgrace are purely empty concepts to me: my body belongs to you alone, and since you do not love me, my I don't care what happened to me.I am indifferent to the caresses of men, even to their deepest passions, though I have to respect some of them deeply, and I sympathize with their unrequited love, which also reminds me of my My own fate often shakes me deeply.The men I know are very considerate to me, they all dote on me, spoil me, and respect me.Especially the Earl of the Empire, an older widower, who is running around asking for mercy so that this fatherless child, your son, can go to the Dresser School--he loves it like a daughter Love me.He proposed to me three or four times--if I had said yes, I might be a countess today, the mistress of a wonderful mansion in Tyrol, where I could live carefree, because the child There will be a gentle and lovely father who regards him as the apple of his eye, and beside me there will be a husband who is peaceful, noble, and kind-hearted-no matter how he pushes me again and again, no matter how I feel. How much his refusal hurt his heart, I never promised him.Perhaps I was foolish in rejecting him, because otherwise I would be somewhere peaceful and protected right now, and this beloved child would be with me, but—why don't I admit it to you? One thing - I don't want to tie myself up, I want to keep you free at any time.In the depths of my heart, in my subconscious, the dream of my former child is still alive: Maybe you will call me to your side again, if only for an hour.For the sake of this possible one-hour meeting, I refused all the marriage proposals, so that I could go as soon as I heard your call.All my life, since my awakening from childhood, I have been nothing but waiting, waiting for your will.

And the moment did come.But you don't know, you don't feel it, my dear!Even at this moment you don't recognize me -- you never, never, never recognize me!I've seen you many times before, at the theater, at concerts, at Pratt, on the road--every time my heart twitches, but your eyes slip from me In the past: From the outside, I have completely changed. From a shy little girl, I have become a woman, as they say, charming and charming, beautifully dressed, surrounded by a group of admirers : How can you imagine that I am that shy young girl in the dim light of your bedroom?Sometimes one of the gentlemen I walk with greets you.You answered his greeting and looked up at me: but your eyes were polite and strange, expressing admiration, but never showing that you recognized me, strange, terrible strange.I'm almost used to you not being able to recognize me all the time, but I remember one time when it was absolutely painful: I was sitting with a friend in a box at the Opera, and in the next you.The lights went out during the overture, and I couldn't see your face, I could only feel your breath beside me, as close as it was that night, your hand resting on the velvet railing of our box, Your delicate, slender hands.I could not help feeling strong desires to bend down and humbly kiss this strange, so beloved hand, which had once embraced me tenderly.There was music in my ears, sultry, and my desire grew more and more intense, and I had to struggle and pull myself up, because something so strongly drew my lips to your dear hands up.After the first act, I begged my friend to leave the theater with me.You are so strange to me in the dark, and yet you are so close to me, I can't stand it.

But the hour has come, and has come again, for the last time in this wasted life of mine.Almost exactly a year ago, on the day after your birthday.It's strange: I miss you every moment because I always celebrate your birthday like a holiday.I went out early in the morning to buy some white roses, and send them to you, as I do every year, to remind you of that moment you have forgotten for a few years.In the afternoon I drove out with the boy, I took him to Dammer's, and in the evening I took him to the theater.I hope that children can also feel that this day is a mysterious anniversary since they were young, although they don't know its meaning.The next day I stayed with my then lover, a rich young manufacturer from Brunn, with whom I had been living for two years.He pampered and cared for me, and like anyone else, he wanted to marry me, and I, like everyone else, refused his request for seemingly no reason, despite the many presents he had given me and the children, and I am also kind and lovely.He is a very kind-hearted person, although he is a bit dull, he is a bit condescending to me.We went to a concert together, met some fun-seeking friends there, and then had dinner at a restaurant on the ring road.During the dinner, in the midst of laughing and chatting, I suggested going to another ballroom to have fun.I have always hated this kind of dance hall full of lights, feasting, feasting, feasting, and feasting. Normally, if someone suggested going there, I would definitely object, but this time—it was as if an elusive magic force drove me to do it unconsciously. With such a proposal, the people present were very excited and immediately agreed with pleasure-but this time I felt an inexplicable strong desire, as if there was something mysterious and special waiting for me there.They were all used to being obedient to me, so they stood up quickly.We went to the ballroom and drank champagne, and all of a sudden I felt a wild, almost painful joy that I had never felt before.I drank glass after glass and sang along with them rousing songs, with an almost irrepressible desire to dance and cheer.But suddenly—I seemed to feel something cold or hot suddenly fell on my heart—I straightened up: You are sitting at the next table with some friends, and you look at me with appreciative and longing eyes. Look at me, just look at me with your eyes that always make my heart tremble.For the first time in ten years, you stared at me again with all the intensity of your unconscious intensity.I trembled.The raised glass almost fell down.Thankfully my tablemates didn't notice my fluster: it disappeared into the laughter and the din of the music.

Your gaze became more and more fiery, making me feel feverish and restless.I don't know, did you finally recognize me, or did you treat me as your new love, as another strange woman you're pursuing?The blood rushed to my cheeks, and I answered absently what the person at the same table said to me.You must have noticed how disturbed I am by your gaze.Without letting others notice, you shook your head slightly to signal me to go to the front hall for a while.Then you paid the bill deliberately with obvious gestures, bid farewell to your companions, walked out, and hinted to me again before you left that you were waiting for me outside.I was shivering all over, as if I had a cold or a fever. I couldn't answer the questions raised by others, and I couldn't control the blood that was boiling and rushing around me.Just then a pair of Negro dancers cracked their heels and screamed in a strange new dance: everyone was watching them, and I took advantage of the moment.I stood up and said to my boyfriend, I'll be right back after I go out for a while, and I followed you out.

You're standing outside in the vestibule, next to the cloakroom, waiting for me.As soon as I came out, your eyes lit up.You walked up to me with a smile; I saw immediately that you didn't recognize me, the little girl from that year, or the girl from later on, and you once again treated me as a newly-acquainted girl. Women, pursue as a woman who has never met before. "Can you give me an hour too?" you asked me in a kind tone--I sensed from your sure look that you thought of me as a night-time laughing woman. "Okay," I said.More than ten years ago on the dark road, that girl answered you with the same trembling voice, "Okay" that naturally agreed. "When can we meet?" you ask. "You can see me whenever you want," I replied--I have no shame in your presence.You stared at me with a little surprise, the surprise contained elements of suspicion and curiosity, just like the surprise you expressed when you saw me accepting your request so quickly in the past. "Now?" you asked, hesitantly. "Okay," I said, "let's go." I went to the cloakroom to get my overcoat.

It suddenly occurred to me that the coat ticket was in the hands of my boyfriend, and our coats were stored together.If I go back and ask him for a ticket, I will have to nag and explain. On the other hand, staying with you is what I have dreamed of for many years, and I am not willing to give up.So I didn't hesitate for a second: I just took a scarf and threw it over my evening dress, and I went out into the foggy, damp, cold night, leaving aside my overcoat, and the tender and affectionate good-hearted man, He has supported me all these years, but I have humiliated him in front of his friends and turned him into a ridiculous fool: the mistress who has supported me for several years will run away with a wave of a strange man .Ah, in the depths of my heart I am conscious of what a mean, vile, ungrateful, and shameless thing I have done to an honest friend, and I feel that my conduct is ridiculous, that I, out of madness, To mortally wound a good man, I feel, I've ruined my life--but I can't wait to kiss your lips once more, to hear you tenderly to me again What is friendship to me, what is my existence, compared with talking?That's how I loved you, and now it's all gone, all is over, I tell you that.I believe that as long as you call me, even if I am already lying on the corpse bed, there will be a sudden surge of power to make me stand up and follow you.