Venus in Furs

Without any provocation she suddenly said to me today: ‘You interest me. Most men are very commonplace, without verve or poetry. In you there is a certain depth and capacity for enthusiasm and a deep seriousness, which delight me. I might learn to love you.’

After a short but severe shower we went out together to the meadow and the statue of Venus. All about us the earth steamed; mists rose up towards heaven like clouds of incense; a shattered rainbow hovered in the air. The trees were still shedding drops, but sparrows and finches were already hopping from twig to twig. They are twittering gaily, as if very much pleased at something. Everything is filled with a fresh fragrance. We cannot cross the meadow for it is still wet. In the sunlight it looks like a small pool, and the goddess of love seems to rise from the undulations of its mirror-like surface. About her head a swarm of gnats is dancing; illuminated by the sun, it seems to hover above her like an aureole.

Wanda is enjoying the lovely scene. As all the benches along the walk are still wet, she supports herself on my arm to rest awhile. A soft weariness permeates her whole being, her eyes are half closed; I feel the touch of her breath on my cheek.

How I managed to get up courage enough, I really don’t know, but I took hold of her hand, asking, ‘Could you love me?’

‘Why not,’ she replied, letting her calm, clear look rest upon me, but not for long.

A moment later I am kneeling before her, pressing my burning face against the fragrant muslin of her gown.

‘But Severin – this isn’t right,’ she cried.

But I take hold of her little foot, and press my lips upon it.

‘You are getting worse and worse!’ she cried. She tore herself free, and fled rapidly towards the house; the while her adorable slipper remained in my hand.

Is it an omen?

All day long I didn’t dare to go near her. Towards evening as I was sitting in my arbour her gay red head peered suddenly through the greenery of her balcony. ‘Why don’t you come up?’ she called down impatiently.

I ran upstairs, and at the top lost courage again. I knocked very lightly. She didn’t say ‘Come in’, but opened the door herself, and stood on the threshold.

‘Where is my slipper?’

‘It is – I have – I want…’ I stammered.

‘Get it, and then we will have tea together, and chat.’

When I returned, she was engaged in making tea. I ceremoniously placed the slipper on the table, and stood in the corner like a child awaiting punishment.

I noticed that her brows were slightly contracted, and there was an expression of hardness and dominance about her lips which delighted me.

All of a sudden she broke out laughing.

‘So – you are really in love – with me?’

‘Yes, and I suffer more from it than you can imagine.’

‘You suffer?’ she laughed again.

I was revolted, mortified, annihilated, but all this was quite useless.

‘Why?’ she continued, ‘I like you, with all my heart.’

She gave me her hand, and looked at me in the friendliest fashion.

‘And will you be my wife?’

Wanda looked at me – how did she look at me? I think first of all with surprise, and then with a tinge of irony.

‘What has given you so much courage, all at once?’

‘Courage?’

‘Yes, courage, to ask anyone to be your wife, and me in particular?’ She lifted up the slipper. ‘Was it through a sudden friendship with this? But joking aside. Do you really wish to marry me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, Severin, that is a serious matter. I believe you love me, and I care for you too, and what is more important each of us finds the other interesting. There is no danger that we would soon get bored; but, you know, I am a fickle person, and just for that reason I take marriage seriously. If I assume obligations, I want to be able to meet them. But I am afraid – no – it would hurt you.’

‘Please be perfectly frank with me,’ I replied.

‘Well then, honestly, I don’t believe I could love a man longer than –’ she inclined her head gracefully to one side and mused.

‘A year?’

‘What do you imagine? – a month perhaps.’

‘Not even me?’

‘Oh you – perhaps two.’

‘Two months!’ I exclaimed.

‘Two months is very long.’

‘You go beyond antiquity, madame.’

‘You see, you cannot stand the truth.’

Wanda walked across the room and leaned back against the fireplace, watching me and resting one of her arms on the mantelpiece.

‘What shall I do with you?’ she began anew.

‘Whatever you wish,’ I replied with resignation, ‘whatever will give you pleasure.’

‘How illogical!’ she cried, ‘first you want to make me your wife, and then you offer yourself to me as something to toy with.’

‘Wanda – I love you.’

‘Now we are back to the place where we started. You love me, and want to make me your wife, but I don’t want to enter into a new marriage, because I doubt the permanence of both my and your feelings.’

‘But if I am willing to take the risk with you?’ I replied.

‘But it also depends on whether I am willing to risk it with you,’ she said quietly. ‘I can easily imagine belonging to one man for my entire life, but he would have to be a whole man, a man who would dominate me, who would subjugate me by his innate strength, do you understand? And every man – I know this very well – as soon as he falls in love becomes weak, pliable, ridiculous. He puts himself into the woman’s hands, kneels down before her. The only man whom I could love permanently would be he before whom I should have to kneel. I’ve come to like you so much, however, that I’ll try it with you.’

I fell down at her feet.