"You are a disgusting scoundrel and liar, Thomas Magnus! If she has
received her training in a lupanaria, then you, my worthy signor, must
have received your higher education in the penitentiary. Whence comes
that aroma which permeates so thoroughly your gentlemanly jokes and
witticisms. The sight of your pale face is beginning to nauseate me.
After enticing a woman in the fashion of a petty, common hero...."
Magnus struck the table with his fist. His bloodshot eyes were aflame.
"Silence! You are an inconceivable ass, Wondergood! Don't you
understand that I myself, like you, was deceived by her? Who, meeting
_Madonna_, can escape deception? Oh devil! What are the sufferings
of your little, shallow American soul in comparison with the pangs
of mine? Oh devil! Witticism, jests, gentlemen and ladies, asses
and tigers, gods and devils! Can't you see: this is not a woman,
this is--an eagle who daily plucks my liver! My suffering begins in
the morning. Each morning, oblivious to what passed the day before,
I see Madonna before me and believe. I think: what happened to me
yesterday? Apparently, I must be mistaken or did I miss anything?
It is impossible that this clear gaze, this divine walk, this pure
countenance of Madonna should belong to a prostitute. It is your soul
that is vile, Thomas Magnus: she is as pure as a host. And there
were occasions when, on my knees, I actually begged forgiveness of
this creature! Can you imagine it: on my knees! Then it was that I
was really a scoundrel, Wondergood. I idealized her, endowed her
with my thoughts and feelings and was overjoyed, like an idiot. I
almost wept with felicity when she mumblingly repeated what I would
say. Like a high priest I painted my idol and then knelt before it in
intoxication! But the truth proved stronger at last. With each moment,
with each hour, falsehood slipped off her body, so that, toward
night, I even beat her. I beat her and wept. I beat her cruelly as
does a procurer his mistress. And then came night with its Babylonian
licentiousness, the sleep of the dead and--oblivion. And then morning
again. And again Madonna. And again...oh, devil! Over night my faith
again grew, as did the liver of Prometheus, and like a bird of prey
she tortured me all day. I, too, am human, Wondergood!"
Shivering as if with cold, Magnus began to pace the room rapidly,
gazed into the dark fireplace and approached Maria. Maria lifted her
clear gaze to him, as if in question, while Magnus stroked her head
carefully and gently, as he would that of a parrot or a cat:
"What a little head! What a sweet, little head.... Wondergood! Come,
caress it!"