Satan’s Diary, Leonid Andreyev [the beginning after the end read novel .TXT] 📗

donned the human form beats in vain⁠—and as quickly did it disappear: it was swallowed, without sound or conflict, by the waves of my new sea. Even higher they rose, enshrouding the world. There was no longer anything to remember for me or to know: my new human soul remembered all and commanded all. I am a man!

What gave me the idea that I hate Magnus? I looked at this motionless, erect and firm human back and thought that behind it a heart was beating. I thought of how painful and terrible it was for it to remain firm and erect and of how much pain and suffering had already fallen to the lot of this human creature, no matter how proud it might appear or dejected. And suddenly I realized to the extent of pain and tears, how much I loved Magnus, this very same Magnus! He speeds so wildly and has no fear! And the very moment I sensed this, Maria’s eyes turned upon me.⁠ ⁠… Ah, they are as bright at night as they are by day! But at that moment there was a troubled look within them. They were asking: Why these tears?

What could I say in reply with the aid of weak words! I silently took Maria’s hand and pressed it to my lips. And without taking her gaze off me, shining in cold, marble luster, she quietly withdrew her hand⁠—and I became confused⁠—and again gave it to me, taking off her glove. Will you permit me to discontinue, man? I do not know who you are, you who are reading these lines, and I rather fear you⁠ ⁠… your swift and daring imagination. Moreover, a gentleman feels ill at ease in speaking of his success with the ladies. Besides, it was time to return: on the hills the lights of Tivoli were already gleaming and Magnus reduced his speed.

We were moving quite slowly on the return trip and Magnus, grown merry, wiping his brow with his handkerchief, now and then addressed brief remarks to us. There is one thing I will not conceal: her unquestionable womanliness emphasizes the completeness of my transformation. As we walked up the broad stairs of my palazzo, amid its princely wealth and beauty, I suddenly thought:

“Why not send all this adventure to the devil? Why not simply wed and live like a prince in this palace? There will be freedom, children, laughter, just earthly happiness and love.”

And again I looked at Magnus. He seemed strange to me: “I will take your money!” Then I saw the stern gaze of my Maria⁠—and the contradiction between her love and this plan of simple, modest happiness was so great and emphatic that my thought did not even require an answer. I now recollect this thought accidentally as a curiosity of “Toppism.” Let me call it “Toppism” in honor of my perfect Toppi.

The evening was charming. At Magnus’ request, Maria sang. You cannot imagine the reverence with which Toppi listened to her singing! He dared not utter a word to Maria, but on leaving he shook my hand long and with particular warmth. Then, similarly, he shook the hand of Magnus. I also rose to retire.

“Do you intend to do some work yet, Magnus?”

“No. Don’t you want to go to sleep, Wondergood? Come to my room. We’ll chat a bit. Incidentally, there is a paper for you to sign. Do you want any wine?”

“Oh, with pleasure, Magnus. I love conversation at night.”

We drank the wine. Magnus, whistling something out of tune, silently walked the carpet, while I, as usual, reclined in a chair. The Palazzo was all silence, like a sarcophagus, and this reminded me of that stirring night when Mad Mars raved behind the wall. Suddenly, Magnus exclaimed loudly, without hesitation:

“The affair is progressing splendidly.”

“So?”

“In two weeks everything will be completed. Your swollen, scattered wealth, in which one can be lost as in a wood, will be transformed into a clear, concise and exact sack of gold⁠ ⁠… to be more correct⁠—into a mountain. Do you know the exact estimate of your money, Wondergood?”

“Oh, don’t, Magnus. I don’t want to know it. Moreover, it’s your money.”

Magnus looked at me quickly and said sharply:

“No, it’s yours.”

I shrugged my shoulders. I did not want to argue. It was so quiet and I so enjoyed watching this strong man silently pacing to and fro. I still remembered his motionless, stern back, behind which I could clearly see his heart. He continued, after a pause:

“Do you know, Wondergood, that the Cardinal has been here?”

“The old monkey? Yes, I know. What did he want?”

“The same thing. He wanted to see you but I did not feel like taking you away from your thoughts.”

“Thanks. Did you drive him out?”

Magnus replied angrily:

“I am sorry to say⁠—no. Don’t put on airs, Wondergood: I have already told you that we must be careful of him as long as we remain here. But you are quite right. He is an old, shaven, useless, evil, gluttonous, cowardly monkey!”

“Ah, ah! Then why not show him the door?”

“Impossible.”

“I believe you, Magnus. And what does this king I hear about want, he who is to visit us some of these days?”

“Ex-king. Probably the same thing. You should receive him yourself, of course.”

“But only in your presence. Otherwise I refuse. You must understand, my friend, that from that memorable night on I have been merely your disciple. You find it impossible to drive out the old monkey? Very well, let him remain. You say we must receive some ex-king? Very well, receive him. But I would rather be hanged on the first lamppost than to do so without knowing your reason.”

“You are jesting again, Wondergood.”

“No, I am quite serious, Magnus. But I swear by eternal salvation that I know not what we are doing or intend to do. I am not reproaching you. I am not even questioning you: as I have already told you, I trust you and am ready to follow your directions. That you may not again