FullReads

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 assistance. 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 embarrassment 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. God knows how many breasts 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.

LEON.But Mme. Jadwiga–

JADWIGA. Ah, you have called me by my name. I thank you and beg your pardon. It is the self-love of a woman, nothing more. It is my nerves. Do not be frightened. You see how dangerous it is to irritate me. After one of my moods I am unbearable. I will give you three days to think the matter over. If you do not wish to come, write me then (she laughs sadly). Only I warn you, that if you will neither come nor write me, I will tell every one that you are afraid of me, and so I will satisfy my self-love. In the mean time, for the sake of my nerves, you must not tell, me that you refuse my request. I am a little bit ill–consequently capricious.