human
I took these rooms unfurnished, he said. And then added:
gpt
May I ask what your business with me may be?
human
I am a fool, he said sullenly.
gpt
But my nerves are all to pieces. I cannot control myself. I have come here to ask a favour of you, and yet some devil prompts me to insult you. I hate you because I am driven to make use of you. And this room, in its sober luxury, emphasises the indignity of the position, offering as it does so glaring a contrast to my own quarters--here under the same roof, only one flight of stairs above--that I can hardly endure it. Life is hideously unjust. For what have you done--you, a mere Canaanite, hewer of wood and drawer of water to some grossly Philistine firm of city bankers--to deserve this immunity from anxiety and distress; while I, with my superior culture, my ambition and talents, am condemned to that beastly squeaking wire-wove mattress upstairs, and a job-lot of furniture which some previous German waiter has ejected in disgust from his bedroom in the basement? But there--I beg your pardon. I ought to be accustomed to injustice. I have served a long enough apprenticeship to it. Only--partly, thanks to you, I own that--I have seemed to see the dawning of hope again--hope of success, hope of recognition, hope of revenge; and just on that account it becomes intolerable to run one's head against this paralysing, stultifying dead wall of poverty and debt. --He bowed himself together, and his voice broke.--
human
I owe Mrs. Porcher money for my miserable bedsitting-room and my board, and I am so horribly afraid she will turn me out. The place is detestable; unworthy of me--of course it is--but I am accustomed to it. And I am not myself. I am terrified at the prospect of any change. In short, I am worn out. And they see that, those beasts of editors. The _Evening Dally Bulletin_ has given me my _congé_. I have lost the last of my hack-work. It was miserable work, wholly beneath a man of my capacity; still it brought me in a pittance. Now it is gone. Practically I am a pauper, and I owe money in this house.
gpt
I am sorry, very sorry, Iglesias said.
human
You should have spoken sooner. I could not force myself into your confidence; but, believe me, I have not been unmindful of my engagement. I have merely waited for you to speak.
gpt
Meanwhile, how is the play advancing? Well, I hope--so that you find solace and satisfaction in the prosecution of it.
human
Oh! it is grand, he said,
gpt
I was not thinking of investments,
human
But I am, Smyth asserted.
gpt
Naturally I am. You do not suppose that I should accept, still less ask, you help, unless I was certain that in the end I should prove to be conferring, rather than incurring, a favour? You humiliate me by assuming this attitude of disinterested generosity. Let me warn you it does not ring true. Moreover, in assuming it you do not treat me as an equal; and that I resent. It is mean to take advantage of my sorrows and my poverty, and exalt yourself thus at my expense. Of course I understand your point of view. From your associations and occupations you must inevitably worship the god of wealth. One cannot expect anything else from a business man. You gauge every one's intellectual capacity by his power of making money. Well, wait then--just wait; and when that play appears, see if I do not compel you to rate my intellectual capacity very highly. For there are thousands in that play, I tell you--tens of thousands. It is only in the interim that I am reduced to this detestable position of dependence. I know the worth of my work, if----
human
Pardon me, he said,
gpt
You understand it is merely a temporary accommodation?
human
Yes, Iglesias answered.
gpt
I understand. And consequently it is superfluous to indulge in further discussion.
human
You want to get rid of me, Smyth snarled.
gpt
Everyone wants to get rid of me; I am unwelcome. The poor and unsuccessful always are so, I suppose. But some day the tables will be turned--if I can only last.