When We Dead Awaken | Page 9

sit down, Arnold?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
May I?
IRENE.
Yes.--You need not be afraid of being frozen. I don't think I am quite turned to ice yet.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Moves a chair and seats himself at her table.] There, Irene. Now we two are sitting together as in the old days.
IRENE.
A little way apart from each other--also as in the old days.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Moving nearer.] It had to be so, then.
IRENE.
Had it?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Decisively.] There had to be a distance between us---
IRENE.
Was it absolutely necessary, Arnold?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Continuing.] Do you remember what you answered when I asked if you would go with me out into the wide world?
IRENE.
I held up three fingers in the air and swore that I would go with you to the world's end and to the end of life. And that I would serve you in all things---
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
As the model for my art---
IRENE.
--in frank, utter nakedness---
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[With emotion.] And you did serve me, Irene--so bravely--so gladly and ungrudgingly.
IRENE.
Yes, with all the pulsing blood of my youth, I served you!
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Nodding, with a look of gratitude.] That you have every right to say.
IRENE.
I fell down at your feet and served you, Arnold! [Holding her clenched hand towards him.] But you, you,--you--!
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Defensively.] I never did you any wrong! Never, Irene!
IRENE.
Yes, you did! You did wrong to my innermost, inborn nature---
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Starting back.] I--!
IRENE.
Yes, you! I exposed myself wholly and unreservedly to your gaze-- [More softly.] And never once did you touch me.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Irene, did you not understand that many a time I was almost beside myself under the spell of all your loveliness?
IRENE.
[Continuing undisturbed.] And yet--if you had touched me, I think I should have killed you on the spot. For I had a sharp needle always upon me--hidden in my hair-- [Strokes her forehead meditatively.] But after all--after all--that you could---
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Looks impressively at her.] I was an artist, Irene.
IRENE.
[Darkly.] That is just it. That is just it.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
An artist first of all. And I was sick with the desire to achieve the great work of my life. [Losing himself in recollection.] It was to be called "The Resurrection Day"--figured in the likeness of a young woman, awakening from the sleep of death---
IRENE.
Our child, yes---
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Continuing.] It was to be the awakening of the noblest, purest, most ideal woman the world ever saw. Then I found you. You were what I required in every respect. And you consented so willingly--so gladly. You renounced home and kindred--and went with me.
IRENE.
To go with you meant for me the resurrection of my childhood.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
That was just why I found in you all that I required--in you and in no one else. I came to look on you as a thing hallowed, not to be touched save in adoring thoughts. In those days I was still young, Irene. And the superstition took hold of me that if I touched you, if I desired you with my senses, my soul would be profaned, so that I should be unable to accomplish what I was striving for.--And I still think there was some truth in that.
IRENE.
[Nods with a touch of scorn.] The work of art first--then the human being.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
You must judge me as you will; but at that time I was utterly dominated by my great task--and exultantly happy in it.
IRENE.
And you achieved your great task, Arnold.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
Thanks and praise be to you, I achieved my great task. I wanted to embody the pure woman as I saw her awakening on the Resurrection Day. Not marvelling at anything new and unknown and undivined; but filled with a sacred joy at finding herself unchanged--she, the woman of earth --in the higher, freer, happier region--after the long, dreamless sleep of death. [More softly.] Thus did I fashion her.--I fashioned her in your image, Irene.
IRENE.
[Laying her hands flat upon the table and leaning against the back of her chair.] And then you were done with me---
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Reproachfully.] Irene!
IRENE.
You had no longer any use for me---
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
How can you say that!
IRENE.
--and began to look about you for other ideals---
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
I found none, none after you.
IRENE.
And no other models, Arnold?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
You were no model to me. You were the fountainhead of my achievement.
IRENE.
[Is silent for a short time.] What poems have you made since? In marble I mean. Since the day I left you.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
I have made no poems since that day--only frittered away my life in modelling.
IRENE.
And that woman, whom you are now living with---?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Interrupting vehemently.] Do not speak of her now! It makes me tingle with shame.
IRENE.
Where are you thinking of going with her?
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[Slack and weary.] Oh, on a tedious coasting-voyage to the North, I suppose.
IRENE.
[Looks at him, smiles almost imperceptibly, and whispers.] You should rather go high up into the mountains. As high as ever you can. Higher, higher,--always higher, Arnold.
PROFESSOR RUBEK.
[With eager expectation.] Are you going up there?
IRENE.
Have you