The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [246]
It seemed to him that the hum of the street outside his windows was growing and spreading, engulfing the whole of Paris, France, and Europe. And that all human voices melted into a great cry: ‘Glory! … Glory! … Glory! …’
‘Have I gone mad?’ he muttered. Hastily he undid his waistcoat, brought out the golden medallion from beneath his shirt and opened it. The scrap of metal, like brass and as light as a feather, was in its place. Geist had not deceived him; the door to the great invention was open. ‘I’ll stay,’ he whispered. ‘Neither God nor man would forgive me for neglecting this cause.’
Dusk was falling. Wokulski lit the gas lamp over the table, brought out paper and pen, and began writing: ‘Dear Ignacy, I want to discuss very serious matters with you, but as I am not coming back to Warsaw, please …’
Suddenly he thrust the pen aside: fear overcame him at the sight of the words he had written — ‘as I am not coming back to Warsaw …’
‘Why not go back?’ he whispered. ‘Yet — why should I? To meet Izabela again, to lose myself again?
‘I must settle these stupid accounts once and for all.’
He walked about, thinking: ‘There are two ways open: one leads to incalculable reforms for humanity, the other to pleasing and perhaps even winning the hand of a woman. Which shall I choose? For it is a fact that every new and important material, every new force has meant a new stage in civilisation. Bronze created classical civilisation, iron the Middle Ages; gunpowder completed the Middle Ages, and coal began the nineteenth century. Why hesitate: Geist’s metal could initiate a civilisation previously only dreamed of, and who knows whether it might not actually ennoble the human species …
‘And, on the other hand, what do I have? … A woman, who would not hesitate to bathe in the presence of a parvenu such as I. What am I in her eyes beside those élegants, for whom empty conversation, a happy idea, and a compliment constitute the most important things in life? What would that pack, not excluding herself, say at the sight of the ragged Geist and his immense discoveries? They are so ignorant, it would not even surprise them.
‘Let us suppose, in the end, that I married her, what then? … The salon of the parvenu would immediately be inundated with all open and secret admirers, cousins of varying degrees, and I don’t know who else! … And once again, I would have to close my eyes to their glances, deafen myself to their compliments, discreetly move away from their confidential conversations — about what? … About my shame or stupidity? …
‘A year of such existence would debase me to the point of lowering myself to suffer jealousy of such individuals …
‘Ah, would I not prefer to throw my heart to a hungry dog than to give it to a woman who cannot even guess at the difference between them and me.
‘Basta! …’
He sat down at the table once again and began a letter to Geist. Suddenly, he stopped: ‘I’m ridiculous,’ he said aloud, ‘I want to commit myself without settling my affairs …’
‘Times have changed,’ he thought. ‘Earlier, a man like Geist would have been the symbol for Satan, with whom an angel in the form of a woman was struggling for a human soul … But today — which is Satan, which the angel?’
Someone knocked. A servant entered and gave Wokulski a long letter: ‘From Warsaw,’ he murmured, ‘Rzecki? Is he writing me another letter? No, it’s from the Duchess … Perhaps to inform me of Izabela’s marriage?’
He tore open the envelope, but hesitated a moment before reading. His heart began beating faster. ‘What difference does it make to me?’ he muttered, and began:
Dear Stanisław, Evidently you are enjoying yourself in Paris, since you have apparently forgotten your friends. And the grave of your poor late uncle is still waiting for the headstone you promised, and also I should like your advice on building a sugar factory, which people are persuading me to undertake