Without Dogma: A Novel of Modern PolandSienkiewicz, Henryk
General
Without Dogma: A Novel of Modern Poland
Sienkiewicz, Henryk
Poland -- Fiction
I said good-by at once. On the way I reflected whether Kromitzki would
not think my acting thus a little curious and open to suspicion. But
it was a vain fear. Husbands are proverbially blind, not because they
love and trust their wives, but because they love themselves. Besides,
Kromitzki, looking at us from his business point of view, considers
me and my aunt as two fantastic beings, who, with little knowledge of
practical matters, stick to antiquated notions about family ties
and duties. He is, indeed, in many respects of such an altogether
different type from us, that we cannot help looking upon him as an
intruder.
When I came back to the villa I saw Aniela at the gate buying wild
strawberries from a peasant woman. Passing close by, I said roughly,
"You will not go away, because I do not wish it," and then went up
into my room.
During dinner the conversation again turned upon the departure of the
ladies. This time Kromitzki spoke up and treated the whole thing as a
childish whim, to be laughed at by sensible people. He was not very
considerate either to his wife or his mother-in-law, but then his
nature is not a refined one. I did not say anything,--as if the
question of their going or staying mattered very little to me. But I
noticed that Aniela was conscious that her husband acted as a
mere puppet in my hands, and she felt ashamed for him and deeply
humiliated; but such was the resentment I had towards her that the
sight of it did me good.
For in truth I was deeply wounded, and I cannot forgive Aniela. If, on
the way from Vienna, I had not thought so much of that new compact, if
I had not made a wholesale sacrifice of all my desires, passions,
and senses, in fact of my whole nature, I should not have felt the
disappointment so acutely. But it fell out so cruelly that, when, out
of love for her, I was ready to change my whole being, when I climbed
to a height I had never reached before, only to be near her, she,
without any consideration or pity for me, wished to push me into the
very depth of despair and without considering for a moment what would
become of me! These thoughts poison even the pleasure afforded by
Kroimitzki's departure.
The future will bring some kind of solution, but I am too tired to
speculate upon it. The simplest solution would be inflammation of the
brain. It will come to that. I torment myself all the day, do not
sleep at night, smoke endless cigars to stupefy myself, and sit up
till daylight.
30 July.
I have not written in my diary for two weeks. I went; with Kromitzki
to Vienna to conclude his business; after which he remained three days
and then left for the East. I had such violent headaches that I could
not write. Pani Celina's cure is completed, but we still remain at
Gastein because of the great heat.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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