Read Online Rosshalde by Hermann Hesse - Free Book Online

daily routine. If a new love had turned up, a decision would have come easily. But my own nature was less resilient than I had thought. I fell in love with pretty, young girls, but what I felt was a kind of melancholy envy; it never went deep enough. I came to realize that there would never again be a love I could abandon myself to as I did to my painting. My need to expend my energies and forget myself, all my passion, went into my painting, and to tell you the truth, I haven’t in all these years taken a single new human being into my life, neither a woman nor a friend. You see, any friendship would have had to begin with an admission of my disgrace.”
    â€œDisgrace?!” said Burkhardt softly, in a tone of reproach.
    â€œYes, disgrace! That’s how I felt and my feeling hasn’t changed. It’s a disgrace to be unhappy. It’s a disgrace not to be able to show anyone one’s life, to be obliged to conceal something. But enough of that! Let me go on.”
    He stared darkly into his wine glass, tossed away his extinguished cigar, and continued.
    â€œMeanwhile, Albert had grown out of babyhood. We both loved him very much and worrying over him kept us together. It wasn’t until he was seven or eight that I began to be jealous and to fight for him—exactly as I fight over Pierre with her now. Suddenly I realized that the little boy had become indispensably dear to me, and then for several years I looked on in constant anguish as he grew cooler and cooler toward me and more and more attached to his mother.
    â€œThen he fell seriously ill, and for a time our worry about the child submerged everything else; we lived in greater harmony than ever before. Pierre dates from that time.
    â€œSince little Pierre has been in the world, he has had all the love it’s in me to give. I let Adele slip away from me again; after Albert’s recovery, I did nothing to prevent him from growing closer and closer to his mother. He became her confidant in her conflict with me and soon he was my enemy; in the end I had to send him out of the house. I gave up everything, I became an abject pauper, I stopped finding fault or giving orders in the house, I became a tolerated guest in my own home, but I didn’t mind. All I wanted to save for myself was my little Pierre. When life with Albert and the whole state of affairs had become intolerable, I offered Adele a divorce.
    â€œI wanted to keep Pierre with me. She could have everything else: she could live with Albert, she could have Rosshalde and half my income—more, for all I cared. But she refused. She was willing to divorce, she asked only the barest minimum of support, but she would not part with Pierre. That was our last fight. I tried to save my little vestige of happiness; I promised and begged, I humiliated myself, I threatened and wept and in the end I lost my temper; all in vain. She even consented to let Albert go away. It suddenly became clear that this quiet patient woman had no intention of giving an inch; she was well aware of her power and she was stronger than I. At that time I really hated her, and something of that hatred is still with me.
    â€œSo I sent for the mason and built this little apartment. I’ve been living here ever since, and you’ve seen all there is to see.”
    Burkhardt had listened thoughtfully, never interrupting, not even at times when Veraguth seemed to expect and even to desire it.
    â€œI’m glad,” he said cautiously, “that you yourself see everything so clearly. It’s all pretty much as I thought. Let’s talk about it just a little more. You’ve made a good start. I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since I came, and so have you. Suppose you had a nasty abscess that was painful and that you were a little ashamed of. I know about it now, and you feel better because there’s no need for secrecy. But that isn’t enough, now we’ve got to see if we