He Who Gets Slapped, Leonid Andreyev [great novels to read .txt] 📗

I took the liberty⁠— He No manners, please. What do you want? Tell me quickly, I have no time. Gentleman Looking around with distaste. I expected you would invite me to some other place⁠ ⁠… to your home. He I have no other home. This is my home. Gentleman But people may disturb us here. He So much the worse for you. Talk faster! Silence. Gentleman Will you allow me to sit down? He Sit down. Look out! That chair is broken. The gentleman, afraid, pushes away the chair and looks helplessly around. Everything here seems to him dangerous and strange. He chooses an apparently solid little gilded divan, and sits down; puts his silk hat aside, slowly takes off his gloves, which stick to his fingers. He observes him indifferently. Gentleman In this suit, and with this face, you make a still stranger impression. Yesterday it seemed to me that it was all a dream; today⁠ ⁠… you⁠ ⁠… He You have forgotten my name again? My name is He. Gentleman You are determined to continue talking to me like this? He Decidedly! But you are squandering your time like a millionaire. Hurry up! Gentleman I really don’t know.⁠ ⁠… Everything here strikes me so.⁠ ⁠… These posters, horses, animals, which I passed when I was looking for you.⁠ ⁠… And finally, you, a clown in a circus! With a slight, deprecating smile. Could I expect it? It is true, when everybody there decided that you were dead, I was the only man who did not agree with them. I felt that you were still alive. But to find you among such surroundings⁠—I can’t understand it. He You said you have a son, now. Doesn’t he look like me? Gentleman I don’t understand? He Don’t you know that widows or divorced women often have children by the new husband, which resemble the old one? This misfortune did not befall you? Laughs. And your book, too, is a big success, I hear. Gentleman You want to insult me again? He Laughing. What a restless, touchy faker you are! Please sit still; be quiet. It is the custom here to speak this way. Why were you trying to find me? Gentleman My conscience.⁠ ⁠… He You have no conscience. Or were you afraid that you hadn’t robbed me of everything I possessed, and you came for the rest? But what more could you take from me now? My fool’s cap with its bells? You wouldn’t take it. It’s too big for your bald head! Crawl back, you bookworm! Gentleman You cannot forgive the fact that your wife.⁠ ⁠… He To the devil with my wife! The gentleman is startled and raises his eyebrows. He laughs. Gentleman I don’t know.⁠ ⁠… But such language! I confess I find difficulty in expressing my thoughts in such an atmosphere, but if you are so⁠ ⁠… indifferent to your wife, who, I shall allow myself to emphasize the fact, loved you and thought you were a saint⁠—He laughs. Then what brought you to such a⁠ ⁠… step? Or is it that you cannot forgive me my success? A success, it is true, not entirely deserved. And now you want to take vengeance, with your humbleness, on those who misunderstood you. But you always were so indifferent to glory. Or your indifference was only hypocrisy. And when I, a more lucky rival⁠ ⁠… He With a burst of laughter. Rival! You⁠—a rival! Gentleman Growing pale. But my book! He You are talking to me about your book? To me? The gentleman is very pale. He looks at him with curiosity and mockery. Gentleman Raising his eyes. I am a very unhappy man. He Why? Gentleman I am a very unhappy man. You must forgive me. I am deeply, irreparably, and infinitely unhappy. He But why? Explain it to me. Starts walking up and down. You say yourself that your book is a tremendous success, you are famous, you have glory; there is not a yellow newspaper in which you and your thoughts are not mentioned. Who knows me? Who cares about my heavy abstractions, from which it was difficult for them to derive a single thought? You⁠—you are the great vulgarizer! You have made my thoughts comprehensible even to horses! With the art of a great vulgarizer, a tailor of ideas, you dressed my Apollo in a barber’s jacket, you handed my Venus a yellow ticket, and to my bright hero you gave the ears of an ass. And then your career is made, as Jackson says. And wherever I go, the whole street looks at me with thousands of faces, in which⁠—what mockery⁠—I recognize the traits of my own children. Oh! How ugly your son must be, if he resembles me! Why then are you unhappy, you poor devil? The gentleman bows his head, plucking at his gloves. The police haven’t caught you, as yet. What am I talking about? Is it possible to catch you? You always keep within the limits of the law. You have been torturing yourself up to now because you are not married to my wife. A notary public is always present at your thefts. What is the use of this self-torture, my friend? Get married. I died. You are not satisfied with having taken only my wife? Let my glory remain in your possession. It is yours. Accept my ideas. Assume all the rights, my most lawful heir! I died! And when I was dying making a stupidly pious face I forgave thee! Bursts out laughing. The gentleman raises his head, and bending forward, looks straight into He’s eyes. Gentleman And my pride? He Have you any pride? The gentleman straightens up, and nods his head silently. Yes! But please stand off a little. I don’t like to look at you. Think of it. There was a time when I loved you a little, even thought you a little gifted! You⁠—my empty shadow. Gentleman Nodding his head. I am your shadow. He keeps on walking, and looks over his shoulder at the gentleman, with a smile. He Oh, you are marvellous!