human
It is as I tell you,
gpt
It is better to be honest and frank, she said.
human
Is Gloria jealous of me?
gpt
Jealous! She would kill you! he cried, and there was anger in his voice at the thought.
human
Do not go to her. Something might happen.
gpt
But if she is jealous, she loves you,
human
It is a stage jealousy, he said cruelly.
gpt
How could she pass the time without something to divert her? She is always acting.
human
But what is she jealous of? asked Francesca.
gpt
How can she be jealous of me? Because you work here? She is free to come if she likes, and to stay all day. I do not understand.
human
Who can understand her? God, who made her, understands her. I am only a man. I know only one thing, that I loved her and do not love her. And she makes a scene for every day. One day it is you, and another day it is the walls she does not like. You will forgive me, Princess. I speak frankly what comes to my mouth from my heart. The whole story is this. She makes my life intolerable. I am not an idle man, the first you may meet in society, to spend my time from morning to night in studying my wife's caprices. I am an artist. When I have worked I must have peace. I do not ask for intelligent conversation like yours. But I must have peace. One of these days I shall strangle her with my hands. The Lord will forgive me and understand. I am full of nerves. Is it my fault? She twists them as the women wring out clothes at the fountain. It is not a life; it is a hell.
gpt
Poor Reanda! Poor Reanda!
human
I do not pity myself, he said scornfully.
gpt
I have deserved it, and much more. But I am human. If it goes on a little longer, you may take me to Santo Spirito, for I am going mad. At least I should be there in holy peace. After her, the madmen would all seem doctors of wisdom. Do you know what will happen this evening? I go home. 'Where have you been?' she will ask. 'At the Palazzetto.' 'What have you been doing?' 'Painting--it is my trade.' 'Was Donna Francesca there?' 'Of course. She is mistress in her own house.' 'And what did you talk of?' 'How should I remember? We talked.' Then it will begin. It will be an inferno, as it always is. 'Leave hope behind, all ye that enter here!' I can say it, if ever man could! You are right to pity me. Before it is finished you will have reason to pity me still more. Let us hope it may finish soon. Either San Lorenzo, or Santo Spirito--with the mad or with the dead.
human
Poor Reanda!
gpt
Yes--poor Reanda, if you like. People envy me, they say I am a great artist. If they think so, let them say it. It seems to them that I am somebody. He laughed, almost hysterically.
human
Somebody! Stuff for Santo Spirito! That is all she has left me in two years--not yet two years.
gpt
Do not talk of Santo Spirito, said Francesca.
human
You shall not go mad. When you are unhappy, think of our friendship and of all the hours you have here every day. She hesitated and seemed to make an effort over herself.
gpt
But it is impossible that it should be all over, so hopelessly and so soon. She is nervous, perhaps. The climate does not suit her--
human
Therefore I should take her away and go and live somewhere else! he cried.
gpt
That would be the end! I should tear her to pieces with my hands--
human
Hush, hush! You are talking madly--
gpt
I know it. There is reason. It will end badly, one of these days, unless I end first, and that may happen also. Without you it would have happened long ago. You are the good angel in my life, the one friend God has sent me in my tormented existence, the one star in my black sky. Be my friend still, always, for ever and ever, and I shall live forever only to be your friend. As for love--the devil and his demons will know what to do with it--they will find their account in it. They have lent it, and they will take their payment in blood and tears of those who believe them.
human
But there is love in the world, somewhere,
gpt
Yes--and in hell! But not in heaven--where you will be.