The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [286]
‘What surprises me most,’ she went on, ‘is the fact that men don’t understand these dolls. It’s no secret to any woman, from Mrs Wąsowska to my chambermaid, that neither heart nor sense has yet awoken in Ewelina: it’s all asleep in her … Yet the Baron regards her as a divinity, and deludes himself, poor wretch, that she loves him.’
‘Why not warn him?’ Wokulski asked in a stifled voice.
‘For goodness sake, that would be useless … Did I ever once give him to understand that Ewelina is still only a spoiled child and a doll? Perhaps something will come of her one day, but not at present! Starski is just right for her. And what,’ she added, after a pause, ‘have you thought about the sugar-factory? Have a horse saddled tomorrow, ride out in the fields by yourself or — better still — with Wąsowska. She’s a worthy woman, I may tell you …’
When Wokulski left the Duchess, he was in a state of alarm. ‘What was she saying,’ he thought, ‘about the Baron and Ewelina? Wasn’t she quite simply warning me? For Starski flirts with others as well as Ewelina. What happened in the brake? I’d sooner shoot myself …’
But then he recollected himself. ‘In the brake,’ he thought, ‘it was either an illusion, in which case I’m doing an innocent woman an injustice, or if it was a fact … Well, I’m certainly not going to be the rival of that operetta libertine, and sacrifice my life for a depraved woman. She has the right to flirt with whom she pleases, but not to deceive a man whose only crime is that he loves her. I must get away from this Capua, and set to work. I’ll fulfil my life better in Geist’s laboratory than in any drawing-room.’
Towards ten o’clock the Baron came into his room, terribly changed. At first he smiled and joked, then sank breathlessly into a chair and said, after a moment: ‘You know, my dear Mr Wokulski, I sometimes think — not in my own experience, for my fiancée is the noblest of girls — but sometimes I think women deceive us …’
‘Yes, sometimes …’
‘Perhaps it isn’t their fault,’ said the Baron, ‘but one must admit that sometimes they let themselves be trifled with by intriguers.’
‘Yes, indeed they do.’
The Baron was shivering so much that his teeth chattered. ‘Don’t you think, sir,’ he asked, after pondering, ‘that such things should be prevented?’
‘In what way?’
‘By removing a woman from contact with the intriguers, at least.’
Wokulski laughed aloud: ‘It’s possible to free a woman from intriguers, but is it possible to free her from her own instincts? What would you advise if the man whom you consider a trifler or intriguer is to her a male of the same species as herself?’
Gradually a feeling of rage began dominating him. He walked about the room, and said: ‘How can one struggle against a law of nature by which a bitch, even of the best breed, will couple — not with a lion — but with a dog? Show her a whole menagerie of the noblest animals, but she’ll renounce them all for a few dogs. Yet it is hardly surprising, for they are her species.’
‘So in your opinion there’s no help for it?’ asked the Baron.
‘Not at present, but at some future time there will be sincerity in human relations, and freedom of choice. When a woman won’t need to pretend to love or flirt with every man, then at once she will discard those she doesn’t care for, and will go to the man who suits her taste. Then there won’t be any deceived lovers or deceivers, relationships will be formed in a natural manner.’
When the Baron left, Wokulski went to bed. He did not sleep all night, but he regained equanimity. ‘What sort of complaint can I have against Izabela?’ he thought, ‘after all, she didn’t say she loved me; all she did was to give me barely a shadow of hope that it may happen at some time. She’s right, for she hardly knows me. What sort of illusions are these? … Starski? … But she wants to match him with Mrs Wąsowska, so surely it hasn