then I had become rich enough to live in luxury and in indolent,
quivering sunshine. I was able to build myself the villa on the Lake of
Taunitz, and the palazzo in the capital,--and all the rest of it.

MAIA.

[Taking up his tone.] And last but not least, you could afford to
treat yourself to me, too. And you gave me leave to share in all your
treasures.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Jesting, so as to turn the conversation.] Did I not promise to take you
up to a high enough mountain and show you all the glory of the world?

MAIA.

[With a gentle expression.] You have perhaps taken me up with you to a
high enough mountain, Rubek--but you have not shown me all the glory of
the world.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[With a laugh of irritation.] How insatiable you are, Maia.! Absolutely
insatiable! [With a vehement outburst.] But do you know what is the most
hopeless thing of all, Maia? Can you guess that?

MAIA.

[With quiet defiance.] Yes, I suppose it is that you have gone and tied
yourself to me--for life.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

I would not have expressed myself so heartlessly.

MAIA.

But you would have meant it just as heartlessly.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

You have no clear idea of the inner workings of an artist's nature.

MAIA.

[Smiling and shaking her head.] Good heavens, I haven't even a clear
idea of the inner workings of my own nature.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Continuing undisturbed.] I live at such high speed, Maia. We live so,
we artists. I, for my part, have lived through a whole lifetime in the
few years we two have known each other. I have come to realise that I
am not at all adapted for seeking happiness in indolent enjoyment. Life
does not shape itself that way for me and those like me. I must go on
working--producing one work after another--right up to my dying day.
[Forcing himself to continue.] That is why I cannot get on with you any
longer, Maia--not with you alone.

MAIA.

[Quietly.] Does that mean, in plain language, that you have grown tired
of me?

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Bursts forth.] Yes, that is what it means! I have grown
tired--intolerably tired and fretted and unstrung--in this life with
you! Now you know it. [Controlling himself.] These are hard, ugly words
I am using. I know that very well. And you are not at all to blame in
this matter;--that I willingly admit. It is simply and solely I myself,
who have once more undergone a revolution--[Half to himself]--and
awaken