-4

    In t interval betime t I got to kno I never  ttainment of felicity. I inct impression, rat all tion, t everyt t of tter o come.

    I  in dancing t I felt quite equal to playing my part at talking. . Sook test care not to let out o be. I  in t inquisitive to kno I s ume at all. Maria, ner, explained t sicket too, in fact; and I sament t I so attend tivity alone. It oy of Artists in the Globe Rooms.

    During ttle of  t. Sicket, ly o a conversation so remarkable t it made a deep impression on me.

    quot;Youre really doing splendidly,quot; s;Dancing suits you. Anyone  four ;

    quot;Yes,quot; I agreed. quot;t gone so s all your doing, ;

    quot;O tiful Marias?quot;

    quot;No. S from you like all t. S;

    quot;S teppenty, young, liged, an expert in love and not to be  to s aling guest, it ter.quot;

    Yes, I o concede too.

    quot;And so  everyt no;

    quot;No,  is not like t.  I  is very beautiful and delig pleasure, a great consolation. Im really ;

    quot;ell t more do you ?quot;

    quot;I do  more. I am not content  made for it. It is not my destiny. My destiny is te.quot;

    quot;to be un? ell, youve  and to spare, t time w go ;

    quot;No,  is somet time, I grant you, I  upid un led to not;

    quot;;

    quot;Because I s  fear of deat all t I need and long for is different. It is of t  me suffer  after deat is t I am ing for.quot;

    quot;I understand t. ter. But  t you  you content?quot;

    quot;I  it. O. Im grateful for it. It is as lovely as a sunny day in a  summer. But I suspect t it cant last. to not gives content, but content is no food for me. It lulls teppeno sleep and satiates  it is not a o die for.quot;

    quot;So its necessary to be dead, Steppen;

    quot;I tent and I can bear it for a long  sometimes o look about me and long for t to keep t to suffer once again, only more beautifully and less meanly t make me ready and o die.quot;

    enderly in my eyes  dark look t could so suddenly come into oget it  to hear her, she said:

    quot;I  to tell you sometoday, somet I  too; but per to yourself. I am going to tell you no is t I kno you and me and our fate. You, ist and a track of  and eternal, never content rivial and petty. But t you back to yourself, ter  aken you, till you o your neck in t you once kneiful and sacred, all tiny,  its o pieces. Your faito breation is a  true,  your fate?quot;

    I nodded again and again.

    quot;You ure of life  tever, and t life is no poem of s to play and so on, but a comfortable room ent ing and drinking, coffee and knitting, cards and  in iful, and t poets or for ts—is a fool and a Don Quixote. Good. And it  ted girl. I  to live up to a andard, to expect muc t part. I could ionary, ter of a genius, tyr. And life  to be a courtesan of fairly good taste, and even t  is ime I put t I, must in t, and if life scorned my beautiful dreams, so I argued, it  upid and  did not  all. And as I tle inquisitive too, I took a good look at t my neigances, fifty or so of tinies, and t my dreams  a times over, just as yours  y t  tle rig a y and in a senseless  a typeer in to marry suco become some kind of drudge, as for a man like you to be forced in o o a razor. Perrouble erial and moral and ual—but it  understand your rot, your dislike of bars and dancing floors, your loat of it? I understand it only too ics as ter and irresponsible antics of ties and t  is to be, over all t people noions tion t, Steppen you must go to too exacting and ented oday. You oo many. s to live and enjoy oday must not be like you and me. s music instead of noise, joy instead of pleasure, soul instead of gold, creative ead of business, passion instead of foolery, finds no rivial ;

    So meditation.

    quot;; I cried tenderly, quot;sister,  you taugrot! But  people like us oo many cannot live  brings it about? Is it only so in our days, or  so al;

    quot;I dont kno to be in our time only—a disease, a momentary misfortune. Our leaders strain every nerve, and o get t , earn money and eat ces—in sucime t indeed cut a poor figure. Let us  otimes ter, and ter again, ric t is no o us now. And per ;

    quot;Al is today? Alicians, profiteers, ers and pleasure-seekers, and not a breat;

    quot;ell, I dont kno is all t I am te of o me sometimes, and read me, too, some of ters, of Mozart.  rolled times and ruled t and gave tone and counted for somet Mozart or t or t faso die and be buried? And per  is called ory at sc t  deeds and fine emotions, is all not a sed by ters for educational reasons to keep c ime and to to t, to t deat;

    quot;Not;

    quot;Yes, eternity.quot;

    quot;You mean a name, and fame erity?quot;

    quot;No, Steppen fame.  any value? And do you t all true and real men o posterity?quot;

    quot;No, of course not.quot;

    quot;t isnt fame. Fame exists in t sense only for ters. No, it isnt fame. It is ernity. t to myself: all  contrive to live at all if t anoto breatside t eternity at time; and trut belongs try of your great poets. ts, too, belong tyrdom and given a great example to men. But true act, trengtrue feeling, belongs to eternity just as muc or sees it or records it or  doo posterity. In eternity terity.quot;

    quot;You are rig;

    quot;t; s on meditatively, quot;after all kno about t is s and s. ts, true men, t, in every love. ts, in earlier times it  by painters in a golden iful and full of peace, and it is not  a moment ago ernity. It is time and appearances. It is t is t rives for. And for t reason, Steppen, and I my saints, Cops  o saintliness, sin and vice. You  I often t even my friend Pablo mig in o stumble, t and o guide us. Our only guide is our ;

    it ting; it lit up t lettering on took o er, and so ayed for a moment. And so I s to stay and to  no more t day. But Maria , t before t Ball.

    But on my o join Maria I t, not of  of o me t it , pers but mine. S, breat to me as someticularly to  of eternity just at time. I needed it, for  it I could not live and neitimelessness, of a ance of oday by taught me dancing.

    I o recall my dream of Goet vision of tals. For t time I understood Goeter, ter of tals. It . It   andings of men and got to eternity and ternity ion of time, its return to innocence, so to speak, and its transformation again into space.

    I  to meet Maria at t arrived, and ing at table in t and secluded restaurant, my ts still ran on tion I s t e and als, living timeless space, enraptured, re-fasalline eternity like etarry brig serenity of tside timately knoed, passages of Mozarts Cassations, of Bacempered Clavier came to my mind and it seemed to me t all tarry brig ime frozen into space, and above it ty, an eternal, divine laugted in too! And suddenly I er around me. I als laug entranced. Entranced, I felt for a pencil in my coat pocket, and looking for paper saable. I turned it over and e on te verses and forgot about till one day I discovered t. they ran:

    tALS

    Ever reeking from th

    Ascends to us lifes fevered surge,

    ealth,

    Smoke of deathe gallows verge;

    Greed  end, imprisoned air;

    Murderers hands, usurers hands, hands of prayer;

    Exid breathe human swarm

    , blood raw, blood warm,

    Breats,

    Eating itself and spe eats,

    c,

    Decking out  craze

    Bawdy hey blaze,

    time mart

    eltering to its own decay

    In the glare of pleasures way,

    Rising for eachen

    Sinking for eaco dust again.

    But we above you ever more residing

    In tar translumined ice

    Kno day nor nigimes dividing,

    ear nor age nor sex for our device.

    All your sins and anguising,

    Your murders and lascivious delighting

    Are to us but as a show

    Like t circling go,

    C our day for night;

    On your frenzied life we spy,

    And refreser

    itars in order fleeing;

    Our breater; in our sight

    Fahe sky;

    Cool and uncernal being,

    Cool and star brigernal laughter.

    ter a co our little room. S evening, imate tender t I felt it as t complete abandon. quot;Maria,quot; said I, quot;you are as prodigal today as a goddess. Dont kill us bote. tomorroer all is t for a cavalier tomorro of good lovers ime.quot;

    S o my ear and whispered:

    quot;Dont say t, ime mig time. If akes you, you o me. Perake you tomorro;

    Never did I experience to t strange, bitter-s alternation of mood, more po nig  and subtle sensuous joy of inasting a  I o kno joy like a rippling pool. And yet t  and tense e, and ender, I tle s appealing tly  a care in t e raced on at breakneck speed, racing and cened raigous abyss, spurred on by dread and longing to tion of deat as a s ed aside in fear from tless pleasure of merely sensual love and felt a dread of Marias beauty t laugself, so no a dread of deat s approaco surrender and release.

    Even  and deep preoccupation of our love and belonged more closely to one anoto Maria, and took leave of all t s to me. I o confide myself like a co lifes surface play, to pursue a fleeting joy, and to be bot in tate t (in earlier life) I ion. tter accompaniment of guilt, t but dread taste of forbidden fruit t puts a spiritual man on s innocence, and I  t it ime to go on fart oo agreeable and too  iny to make anotion of its endless guilt. An easy life, an easy love, an easy deat for me.

    From old me I gat for t day, or in connection , quite unusual deligravagances . Per . Per nigogete. I o Maria; and t burst of wild desire...