Satan's Diary

“And you will kill me. Is that not enough?”

But Magnus shook his head doubtfully and said:

“You will betray me. I am a living human being, while you smell like a corpse. I do not want to have contempt for myself. If I do, I perish. Don’t you dare to look at me! Look upon the others!”

I laughed.

“Very well. I shall not look at you. I will look at the rest. I will make it easier for you with my contempt.”

Magnus fell into prolonged thought. Then he looked again at me piercingly and quietly asked:

“And Maria?..”

Oh, cursed wretch! Again he hurled my heart upon the floor! I looked at him wildly, like one aroused at night by fire. And three big waves swept my breast. With the first wave rose the silent violins…ah, how they wailed, just as if the musician played not upon strings but upon my veins! Then in a huge wave with foamy surf there rolled by all the images, thoughts and emotions of my recent, beloved human state: think of it: everything was there! Even the lizzard that hissed at my feet that evening beneath the moonlight. I recalled even the little lizzard! And with the third wave there was rolled out quietly upon the shore the holy name: Maria. And just as quietly it receded, leaving behind a delicate lace of foam, and from beyond the sea burst forth the rays of the sun, and for a moment, for one, little moment, I again became a white schooner, with sails lowered. Where were the stars while awaiting the word of the Lord of the universe to break forth in all their brilliance? Madonna!

Magnus recalled me quietly.

“Where are you going? She is not there. What do you want?”

“Pardon me, dear Magnus, but I would like to see the Signorina Maria. Only for a moment. I don’t feel quite well. There is something revolving in my eyes and head. Are you smiling, dear Magnus, or does it only seem so to me? I have been gazing into the fire too long and I can hardly discern the objects before me. Did you say: Maria? Yes, I would like to see her. Then we shall continue our interesting conversation. You will remind me just where we stopped, but meanwhile I would be extremely obliged to you, if we were…to take a little drive into the Campagna. It is so sweet there. And Signorina Maria…”

“Sit down. You will see her presently.”

But I continued to weave my nonsense – what in the devil had happened to my head! I prattled on for a considerable period and now the whole thing seems so ridiculous: Once or twice I pressed the heavy, motionless hand of Thomas Magnus: apparently he must have looked like my father at that moment. Finally, I subsided, partially regained my senses but, in obedience to Magnus’ command, remained in my chair and prepared to listen.

“Can you listen now? You are quite excited, old man. Remember: the senses, the Senses!”

“Yes, now I can go on. I…remember everything. Continue, old friend. I am all attention.”

Yes, I recollected everything but it was quite immaterial to me just what Magnus said or what he might say: I was awaiting Maria. That is how strong my love was! Turning aside for some reason and beating time with his fingers on the table, Magnus said slowly and rather reluctantly:

“Listen, Wondergood. In reality, it would be much more convenient for me to throw you out into the street, you and your idiotic Toppi. You wanted to experience all human life and I would have viewed with pleasure any efforts on your part to earn your own bread. You are apparently no longer used to this? It would also have been very interesting to know what would become of your grandiose contempt when… But I am not angry. Strange to say, I even nurse a feeling of thankfulness for your…billions. And I am rather hopeful. Yes, I still have a little hope that some day you may really grow to be a man. And while this may prove an impediment to me, I am ready to take you with me, but only – after a certain test. Are you still anxious to have…Maria?”

“Yes.”

“Very well.”

Magnus rose with effort and moved toward the door. But he halted for a moment and turned toward me and – surprising as it was on the part of this scoundrel – he kissed my brow.

“Sit down, old man. I will call her immediately. The servants are all out to-day.”

He uttered the last sentence as he knocked feebly at the door. The head of one of his aides appeared for a moment and immediately withdrew. With apparently the same effort Magnus returned to his place and said with a sigh:

“She will be here at once.”

We were silent. I fixed my eyes upon the tall door and it opened wide. Maria entered. With a quick step I moved to greet her and bowed low. Magnus shouted:

“Don’t kiss that hand!”

    May 27.

I could not continue these notes yesterday. Do not laugh! This mere combination of words: do not kiss that hand! – seemed to me the most terrible utterance the human tongue was capable of. It acted upon me like a magic curse. When I recall those words now they interrupt everything I do and befog my whole being, transporting me into a new state. If I happen to be speaking I grow silent, as if suddenly stricken dumb. If I happen to be walking, I halt. If standing, I run. If I happen to be asleep, no matter how deep my slumber, I awake and cannot fall asleep again. Very simple, extremely simple words: Do not kiss that hand!

And now listen to what happened further:

And so: I bowed over Maria’s hand. But so strange and sudden was Magnus’ cry, so great was the command in his hoarse voice, that it was impossible to disobey. It was as if he had stopped a blind man on the edge of a precipice! But I failed to grasp his meaning and raised my head in perplexity, still holding Maria’s hand in mine, and looked at Magnus. He was breathing heavily, as if he had actually witnessed my fall into the abyss – and in reply to my questioning look, he said in a stifled tone:

“Let her hand alone. Maria get away from him.”

Maria released her hand and stepped aside, at a distance from me. Still perplexed I watched her, standing alone! I tried to grasp the situation. For a brief moment it seemed even extremely ludicrous and reminded me of a scene in a comedy, in which the angry father comes unexpectedly upon the sweethearts, but my silly laughter died away immediately and in obedient expectation I raised my eyes to Magnus.

Magnus hesitated. Rising with an effort, he twice paced the length of the room and halting before me, with his hands clasped behind him, said:

“With all your eccentricities, you’re a decent man, Wondergood. I have robbed you (that was how he put it) but I can no longer permit you to kiss the hand of this woman. Listen! Listen! I have already told you you must change your outlook upon men. I know it is very difficult and I sympathize with you, but it is essential that you do it, old friend. Listen! Listen! I misled you: Maria is not my daughter…I have no children. Neither is she a…Madonna. She is my mistress and she was that as recently as last night…”

Now I understand that Magnus was merciful in his own way and was intentionally submerging me slowly into darkness. But at that time I did not realize this and slowly stifling, my breath gradually dying, I lost consciousness. And when with Magnus’ last words the light fled from me and impenetrable night enveloped my being, I whipped out my revolver and fired at Magnus several times in succession. I do not know how many shots I fired. I remember only a series of laughing, flickering flames and the movements of my hand, pushing the weapon forward. I cannot remember at all how and when his aides rushed in and disarmed me. When I regained my senses this was the picture I saw: the aides were gone. I was sitting deep in my chair before the dark fireplace, my hair was wet, while above my left eyebrow there was a bandage soaked in blood. My collar was gone and my shirt was torn, my left sleeve was almost entirely torn off, so that I had to keep jerking it up constantly. Maria stood on the same spot, in the same pose, as if she had not moved at all during the struggle. I was surprised to see Toppi, who sat in a corner and gazed at me strangely. At the table, with his back to me, stood Magnus. He was pouring out some wine for himself.

When I heaved a particularly deep sigh, Magnus turned quickly and said in a strangely familiar tone:

“Do you want some wine, Wondergood? You may have a glass now. Here, drink… You see you failed to hit me. I do not know whether to be glad or not, but I am alive. To your health, old man!”

I touched my brow with my finger and mumbled:

“Blood…”

“A mere trifle, just a little scratch. It won’t matter. Don’t touch it.”

“It smells.”

“With powder? Yes, that’ll soon pass, too. Toppi is here. Do you see him? He asked permission to stay here. You won’t object if your secretary remains while we continue our conversation? He is extremely devoted to you.”

I looked at Toppi and smiled. Toppi made a grimace and sighed gently:

“Mr. Wondergood! It is I, your Toppi.”

And he burst into tears. This old devil, still emitting the odor of fur, this old clown in black, this sexton with hanging nose, this seducer of little girls – burst into tears! But still worse was it when, blinking my eyes, I, too, began to weep, I, “the wise, immortal, almighty!” Thus we both wept, two deceived devils who happened to drop in upon this earth, and human beings – I am happy to give them their due! – looked on with deep sympathy for our tears. Weeping and laughing at the same time, I asked:

“It’s difficult to be a man, Toppi?”

And Toppi, sobbing, replied obediently:

“Very difficult, Mr. Wondergood.”

But here I happened to look at Maria and my sentimental tears immediately dried. In general, that evening is memorable for the sudden and ludicrous transformations of my moods. You probably know them, old man? Now I wept and beat the lyre, like a weeping post, now I became permeated with a stony calm and a sense of unconquerable power, or I began to chatter nonsense, like a parrot scared to death by a dog, and kept up my chatter, louder, sillier and more and more unbearable, until a new mood bore me off into a deep and inexpressible sadness. Magnus caught my look at Maria and smiled involuntarily. I adjusted the collar of my torn shirt and said dryly :

“I do not know whether to be glad or sorry that I failed to kill you, old friend. I am quite calm now, however, and would like you to tell me everything about…that woman. But as you are a liar, let me question her first. Signorina Maria, you were my bride? And in a few days I hoped to call you my wife. But tell me the truth: are you really…this man’s mistress?”

“Yes, signor.”