The Rainbow

"What do you do to me?" she cried. "What beastly thing do you

do to me? You put a horrible pressure on my head, you don't let

me sleep, you don't let me live. Every moment of your life you

are doing something to me, something horrible, that destroys me.

There is something horrible in you, something dark and beastly

in your will. What do you want of me? What do you want to do to

me?"

All the blood in his body went black and powerful and

corrosive as he heard her. Black and blind with hatred of her he

was. He was in a very black hell, and could not escape.

He hated her for what she said. Did he not give her

everything, was she not everything to him? And the shame was a

bitter fire in him, that she was everything to him, that he had

nothing but her. And then that she should taunt him with it,

that he could not escape! The fire went black in his veins. For

try as he might, he could not escape. She was everything to him,

she was his life and his derivation. He depended on her. If she

were taken away, he would collapse as a house from which the

central pillar is removed.

And she hated him, because he depended on her so utterly. He

was horrible to her. She wanted to thrust him off, to set him

apart. It was horrible that he should cleave to her, so close,

so close, like leopard that had leapt on her, and fastened.

He went on from day to day in a blackness of rage and shame

and frustration. How he tortured himself, to be able to get away

from her. But he could not. She was as the rock on which he

stood, with deep, heaving water all round, and he was unable to

swim. He must take his stand on her, he must depend on

her.

What had he in life, save her? Nothing. The rest was a great

heaving flood. The terror of the night of heaving, overwhelming

flood, which was his vision of life without her, was too much

for him. He clung to her fiercely and abjectly.

And she beat him off, she beat him off. Where could he turn,

like a swimmer in a dark sea, beaten off from his hold, whither

could he turn? He wanted to leave her, he wanted to be able to

leave her. For his soul's sake, for his manhood's sake, he must

be able to leave her.

But for what? She was the ark, and the rest of the world was

flood. The only tangible, secure thing was the woman. He could

leave her only for another woman. And where was the other woman,

and who was the other woman? Besides, he would be just in the

same state. Another woman would be woman, the case would be the

same.