The Doll - Bolesaw Prus [386]
Węgiełek trembled with rage: ‘At first, sir, when we got married, I considered children differently, but it scares me, lest instead of my own son, I should see that of her lover. Everyone knows that once a she-wolf has puppies by a cur, then later on, even if she mates with the finest wolves, the cur will always speak out in the offspring, everyone can see that by looking.’
‘I have to go out,’ said Wokulski suddenly, ‘so goodbye. Call on me again before you go home.’
Węgiełek said goodbye to him very cordially, but in the hall he said to the butler: ‘Something ails your master. At first I thought he was all right, though he looked bad; but obviously he is weak … May God protect you all.’
‘Now, you see, I told you not to worm your way in there, and not to talk so much.’ the butler replied, pushing him into the porch.
After Węgiełek’s departure, Wokulski fell into a profound meditation. ‘They stood at my stone, and they laughed,’ he murmured. ‘He even had to profane a stone, a harmless stone.’
For a moment it seemed to him he had found a new purpose: all that was necessary was the choice — whether to shoot Starski dead after first enumerating to him a list of the people whose happiness he had destroyed, or whether to let him live but bring him to utter poverty and humiliation?
Then he had another idea, and it seemed childish, and even vulgar, to sacrifice his own fortune, work and peace of mind for revenge on that sort of man: ‘I’d sooner consider destroying a field mouse or cockroach, for they really are pests. But a man like Starski … God knows what he is! In any case it’s impossible that such a limited individual should be the only cause of so much misery. He’s merely a spark that sets fire to tinder.’
He lay down on the chaise-longue and thought: ‘He fixed things for me … Why? He had an accomplice who was entirely worthy of him, and another accomplice, too — my own stupidity. How was it possible not to recognise that woman instantly for what she is, but even to make a goddess out of her, simply because she posed as a higher being? He fixed things for Dalski too, but who can blame Dalski in his old age for going insane over a person whose morals would fit into a thimble? The cause of disasters in this world isn’t the Starskis or men like him, but primarily the stupidity of their victims. Then again, neither Starski nor Izabela nor yet Ewelina were born yesterday, it’s just that they were brought up in a certain sphere of society and in a given epoch, and amidst certain notions. They’re like a rash, which isn’t a disease, but is a symptom of sickness in society. What’s the use of being revenged on them, why destroy them?’
That evening, Wokulski went out into the street for the first time, and realised how enfeebled he was. His head reeled from the rattle of droshkies and the movement of passers-by, and he dreaded going too far from home. It seemed to him he would never reach Nowy Świat Boulevard, that he wouldn’t be able to find his way home, that despite himself he would cause some ridiculous incident. Above all, he dreaded meeting a familiar face.
He went home tired and agitated, but that night he slept well.
Ochocki called a week after Węgiełek’s visit. He had grown manly, was tanned and looked every inch a gentleman.
‘Where have you come from?’ Wokulski asked him.
‘Straight from Zasławek, where I sat around for nearly two months,’ Ochocki replied. ‘Confound it all, you’ll never guess what sort of a row I got myself landed in!’
‘You?’
‘Yes, sir — me, and innocently into the bargain. It’ll make your hair stand on end!’
He lit a cigarette, and went on: ‘I don’t know whether you heard that the late Duchess willed all her fortune, apart from a small amount, to charity. Hospitals, orphanages, schools, village halls and the like. And the Prince, Dalski and I are her executors … Very well! We