When We Dead Awaken | Page 8

It is to you I owe everything, everything, Irene--and I thank you.
IRENE.
[Lost in thought for a moment.] If I had then done what I had a right to do, Arnold---
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Well? What then?
IRENE.
I should have killed that child.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Killed it, you say?
IRENE.
[Whispering.] Killed it--before I went away from you. Crushed it-- crushed it to dust.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Shakes his head reproachfully.] You would never have been able to, Irene. You had not the heart to do it.
IRENE.
No, in those days I had not that sort of heart.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
But since then? Afterwards?
IRENE.
Since then I have killed it innumerable times. By daylight and in the dark. Killed it in hatred--and in revenge--and in anguish.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Goes close up to the table and asks softly.] Irene--tell me now at last--after all these years--why did you go away from me? You disappeared so utterly--left not a trace behind---
IRENE.
[Shaking her head slowly.] Oh Arnold--why should I tell you that now-- from the world beyond the grave.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Was there some one else whom you had come to love?
IRENE.
There was one who had no longer any use for my love--any use for my life.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Changing the subject.] H'm--don't let us talk any more of the past---
IRENE.
No, no--by all means let us not talk of what is beyond the grave--what is now beyond the grave for me.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Where have you been, Irene? All my inquiries were fruitless--you seemed to have vanished away.
IRENE.
I went into the darkness--when the child stood transfigured in the light.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Have you travelled much about the world?
IRENE.
Yes. Travelled in many lands.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Looks compassionately at her.] And what have you found to do, Irene?
IRENE.
[Turning her eyes upon him.] Wait a moment; let me see--. Yes, now I have it. I have posed on the turntable in variety-shows. Posed as a naked statue in living pictures. Raked in heaps of money. That was more than I could do with you; for you had none.--And then I turned the heads of all sorts of men. That too, was more than I could do with you, Arnold. You kept yourself better in hand.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Hastening to pass the subject by.] And then you have married, too?
IRENE.
Yes; I married one of them.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Who is your husband?
IRENE.
He was a South American. A distinguished diplomatist. [Looks straight in front of her with a stony smile.] Him I managed to drive quite out of his mind; mad--incurably mad; inexorably mad.--It was great sport, I can tell you--while it was in the doing. I could have laughed within me all the time--if I had anything within me.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
And where is he now?
IRENE.
Oh, in a churchyard somewhere or other. With a fine handsome monument over him. And with a bullet rattling in his skull.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Did he kill himself?
IRENE.
Yes, he was good enough to take that off my hands.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Do you not lament his loss, Irene?
IRENE.
[Not understanding.] Lament? What loss?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Why, the loss of Herr von Satow, of course.
IRENE.
His name was not Satow.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Was it not?
IRENE.
My second husband is called Satow. He is a Russian---
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
And where is he?
IRENE.
Far away in the Ural Mountains. Among all his gold-mines.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
So he lives there?
IRENE.
[Shrugs her shoulders.] Lives? Lives? In reality I have killed him---
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Start.] Killed---!
IRENE.
Killed him with a fine sharp dagger which I always have with me in bed---
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Vehemently.] I don't believe you, Irene!
IRENE.
[With a gentle smile.] Indeed you may believe it, Arnold.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Looks compassionately at her.] Have you never had a child?
IRENE.
Yes, I have had many children.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
And where are your children now?
IRENE.
I killed them.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Severely.] Now you are telling me lies again!
IRENE.
I have killed them, I tell you--murdered them pitilessly. As soon as ever they came into the world. Oh, long, long before. One after the other.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Sadly and earnestly.] There is something hidden behind everything you say.
IRENE.
How can I help that? Every word I say is whispered into my ear.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
I believe I am the only one that can divine your meaning.
IRENE.
Surely you ought to be the only one.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Rests his hands on the table and looks intently at her.] Some of the strings of your nature have broken.
IRENE.
[Gently.] Does not that always happen when a young warm-blooded woman dies?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Oh Irene, have done with these wild imaginings--! You are living! Living--living!
IRENE.
[Rises slowly from her chair and says, quivering.] I was dead for many years. They came and bound me--laced my arms together behind my back--. Then they lowered me into a grave-vault, with iron bars before the loop-hole. And with padded walls--so that no one on the earth above could hear the grave-shrieks--. But now I am beginning, in a way, to rise from the dead.
[She seats herself again.]
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[After a pause.] In all this, do you hold me guilty?
IRENE.
Yes.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Guilty of that--your death, as you call it.
IRENE.
Guilty of the fact that I had to die. [Changing her tone to one of indifference.] Why don't you