diff options
Diffstat (limited to '3618-h/3618-h.htm')
| -rw-r--r-- | 3618-h/3618-h.htm | 5899 |
1 files changed, 5899 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/3618-h/3618-h.htm b/3618-h/3618-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..21d5b6e --- /dev/null +++ b/3618-h/3618-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5899 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Arms and the Man, by George Bernard Shaw</title> +<link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.right {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.dialog {text-indent: 0%; + margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0em;} + +p.stage {text-indent: 0%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%;} + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> + +</head> + +<body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Arms and the Man, by George Bernard Shaw</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Arms and the Man</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: George Bernard Shaw</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 17, 2001 [eBook #3618]<br /> +[Most recently updated: December 1, 2023]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Jim Tinsley with help from the distributed proofreaders</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARMS AND THE MAN ***</div> + +<div class="fig" style="width:60%;"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="cover " /><br/><br/> +</div> + +<h1>Arms and the Man</h1> + +<h4>A Pleasant Play</h4> + +<h2 class="no-break">by George Bernard Shaw</h2> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">INTRODUCTION</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">ARMS AND THE MAN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">ACT I</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">ACT II</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">ACT III</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>INTRODUCTION</h2> + +<p> +To the irreverent—and which of us will claim entire exemption from that +comfortable classification?—there is something very amusing in the attitude of +the orthodox criticism toward Bernard Shaw. He so obviously disregards all the +canons and unities and other things which every well-bred dramatist is bound to +respect that his work is really unworthy of serious criticism (orthodox). +Indeed he knows no more about the <i>dramatic art</i> than, according to his +own story in “The Man of Destiny,” Napoleon at Tavazzano knew of the <i>Art of +War</i>. But both men were successes each in his way—the latter won victories +and the former gained audiences, in the very teeth of the accepted theories of +war and the theatre. Shaw does not know that it is unpardonable sin to have his +characters make long speeches at one another, apparently thinking that this +embargo applies only to long speeches which consist mainly of bombast and +rhetoric. There never was an author who showed less predilection for a specific +medium by which to accomplish his results. He recognized, early in his days, +many things awry in the world and he assumed the task of mundane reformation +with a confident spirit. It seems such a small job at twenty to set the times +aright. He began as an Essayist, but who reads essays now-a-days?—he then +turned novelist with no better success, for no one would read such preposterous +stuff as he chose to emit. He only succeeded in proving that absolutely +rational men and women—although he has created few of the latter—can be most +extremely disagreeable to our conventional way of thinking. +</p> + +<p> +As a last resort, he turned to the stage, not that he cared for the dramatic +art, for no man seems to care less about “Art for Art’s sake,” being in this a +perfect foil to his brilliant compatriot and contemporary, Wilde. He cast his +theories in dramatic forms merely because no other course except silence or +physical revolt was open to him. For a long time it seemed as if this resource +too was doomed to fail him. But finally he has attained a hearing and now +attempts at suppression merely serve to advertise their victim. +</p> + +<p> +It will repay those who seek analogies in literature to compare Shaw with +Cervantes. After a life of heroic endeavor, disappointment, slavery, and +poverty, the author of “Don Quixote” gave the world a serious work which caused +to be laughed off the world’s stage forever the final vestiges of decadent +chivalry. +</p> + +<p> +The institution had long been outgrown, but its vernacular continued to be the +speech and to express the thought “of the world and among the vulgar,” as the +quaint, old novelist puts it, just as to-day the novel intended for the +consumption of the unenlightened must deal with peers and millionaires and be +dressed in stilted language. Marvellously he succeeded, but in a way he least +intended. We have not yet, after so many years, determined whether it is a work +to laugh or cry over. “It is our joyfullest modern book,” says Carlyle, while +Landor thinks that “readers who see nothing more than a burlesque in ‘Don +Quixote’ have but shallow appreciation of the work.” +</p> + +<p> +Shaw in like manner comes upon the scene when many of our social usages are +outworn. He sees the fact, announces it, and we burst into guffaws. The +continuous laughter which greets Shaw’s plays arises from a real contrast in +the point of view of the dramatist and his audiences. When Pinero or Jones +describes a whimsical situation we never doubt for a moment that the author’s +point of view is our own and that the abnormal predicament of his characters +appeals to him in the same light as to his audience. With Shaw this sense of +community of feeling is wholly lacking. He describes things as he sees them, +and the house is in a roar. Who is right? If we were really using our own +senses and not gazing through the glasses of convention and romance and +make-believe, should we see things as Shaw does? +</p> + +<p> +Must it not cause Shaw to doubt his own or the public’s sanity to hear +audiences laughing boisterously over tragic situations? And yet, if they did +not come to laugh, they would not come at all. Mockery is the price he must pay +for a hearing. Or has he calculated to a nicety the power of reaction? Does he +seek to drive us to aspiration by the portrayal of sordidness, to +disinterestedness by the picture of selfishness, to illusion by +disillusionment? It is impossible to believe that he is unconscious of the +humor of his dramatic situations, yet he stoically gives no sign. He even dares +the charge, terrible in proportion to its truth, which the most serious of us +shrinks from—the lack of a sense of humor. Men would rather have their +integrity impugned. +</p> + +<p> +In “Arms and the Man” the subject which occupies the dramatist’s attention is +that survival of barbarity—militarism—which raises its horrid head from time to +time to cast a doubt on the reality of our civilization. No more hoary +superstition survives than that the donning of a uniform changes the nature of +the wearer. This notion pervades society to such an extent that when we find +some soldiers placed upon the stage acting rationally, our conventionalized +senses are shocked. The only men who have no illusions about war are those who +have recently been there, and, of course, Mr. Shaw, who has no illusions about +anything. +</p> + +<p> +It is hard to speak too highly of “Candida.” No equally subtle and incisive +study of domestic relations exists in the English drama. One has to turn to +George Meredith’s “The Egoist” to find such character dissection. The central +note of the play is, that with the true woman, weakness which appeals to the +maternal instinct is more powerful than strength which offers protection. +<i>Candida</i> is quite unpoetic, as, indeed, with rare exceptions, women are +prone to be. They have small delight in poetry, but are the stuff of which +poems and dreams are made. The husband glorying in his strength but convicted +of his weakness, the poet pitiful in his physical impotence but strong in his +perception of truth, the hopelessly de-moralized manufacturer, the conventional +and hence emotional typist make up a group which the drama of any language may +be challenged to rival. +</p> + +<p> +In “The Man of Destiny” the object of the dramatist is not so much the +destruction as the explanation of the Napoleonic tradition, which has so +powerfully influenced generation after generation for a century. However the +man may be regarded, he was a miracle. Shaw shows that he achieved his +extraordinary career by suspending, for himself, the pressure of the moral and +conventional atmosphere, while leaving it operative for others. Those who study +this play—extravaganza, that it is—will attain a clearer comprehension of +Napoleon than they can get from all the biographies. +</p> + +<p> +“You Never Can Tell” offers an amusing study of the play of social conventions. +The “twins” illustrate the disconcerting effects of that perfect frankness +which would make life intolerable. <i>Gloria</i> demonstrates the powerlessness +of reason to overcome natural instincts. The idea that parental duties and +functions can be fulfilled by the light of such knowledge as man and woman +attain by intuition is brilliantly lampooned. <i>Crampton</i>, the father, +typifies the common superstition that among the privileges of parenthood are +inflexibility, tyranny, and respect, the last entirely regardless of whether it +has been deserved. +</p> + +<p> +The waiter, <i>William</i>, is the best illustration of the man “who knows his +place” that the stage has seen. He is the most pathetic figure of the play. One +touch of verisimilitude is lacking; none of the guests gives him a tip, yet he +maintains his urbanity. As Mr. Shaw has not yet visited America he may be +unaware of the improbability of this situation. +</p> + +<p> +To those who regard literary men merely as purveyors of amusement for people +who have not wit enough to entertain themselves, Ibsen and Shaw, Maeterlinck +and Gorky must remain enigmas. It is so much pleasanter to ignore than to face +unpleasant realities—to take Riverside Drive and not Mulberry Street as the +exponent of our life and the expression of our civilization. These men are the +sappers and miners of the advancing army of justice. The audience which demands +the truth and despises the contemptible conventions that dominate alike our +stage and our life is daily growing. Shaw and men like him—if indeed he is not +absolutely unique—will not for the future lack a hearing. +</p> + +<p class="right"> +M. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>ARMS AND THE MAN</h2> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>ACT I</h2> + +<p class="stage"> +Night. A lady’s bedchamber in Bulgaria, in a small town near the Dragoman Pass. +It is late in November in the year 1885, and through an open window with a +little balcony on the left can be seen a peak of the Balkans, wonderfully white +and beautiful in the starlit snow. The interior of the room is not like +anything to be seen in the east of Europe. It is half rich Bulgarian, half +cheap Viennese. The counterpane and hangings of the bed, the window curtains, +the little carpet, and all the ornamental textile fabrics in the room are +oriental and gorgeous: the paper on the walls is occidental and paltry. Above +the head of the bed, which stands against a little wall cutting off the right +hand corner of the room diagonally, is a painted wooden shrine, blue and gold, +with an ivory image of Christ, and a light hanging before it in a pierced metal +ball suspended by three chains. On the left, further forward, is an ottoman. +The washstand, against the wall on the left, consists of an enamelled iron +basin with a pail beneath it in a painted metal frame, and a single towel on +the rail at the side. A chair near it is Austrian bent wood, with cane seat. +The dressing table, between the bed and the window, is an ordinary pine table, +covered with a cloth of many colors, but with an expensive toilet mirror on it. +The door is on the right; and there is a chest of drawers between the door and +the bed. This chest of drawers is also covered by a variegated native cloth, +and on it there is a pile of paper backed novels, a box of chocolate creams, +and a miniature easel, on which is a large photograph of an extremely handsome +officer, whose lofty bearing and magnetic glance can be felt even from the +portrait. The room is lighted by a candle on the chest of drawers, and another +on the dressing table, with a box of matches beside it. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +The window is hinged doorwise and stands wide open, folding back to the left. +Outside a pair of wooden shutters, opening outwards, also stand open. On the +balcony, a young lady, intensely conscious of the romantic beauty of the night, +and of the fact that her own youth and beauty is a part of it, is on the +balcony, gazing at the snowy Balkans. She is covered by a long mantle of furs, +worth, on a moderate estimate, about three times the furniture of her room. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +Her reverie is interrupted by her mother, Catherine Petkoff, a woman over +forty, imperiously energetic, with magnificent black hair and eyes, who might +be a very splendid specimen of the wife of a mountain farmer, but is determined +to be a Viennese lady, and to that end wears a fashionable tea gown on all +occasions. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>entering hastily, full of good news</i>). Raina—(<i>she pronounces it +Rah-eena, with the stress on the ee</i>) Raina—(<i>she goes to the bed, +expecting to find Raina there.</i>) Why, where—(<i>Raina looks into the +room.</i>) Heavens! child, are you out in the night air instead of in your bed? +You’ll catch your death. Louka told me you were asleep. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>coming in</i>). I sent her away. I wanted to be alone. The stars are so +beautiful! What is the matter? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Such news. There has been a battle! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>her eyes dilating</i>). Ah! (<i>She throws the cloak on the ottoman, and +comes eagerly to Catherine in her nightgown, a pretty garment, but evidently +the only one she has on.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +A great battle at Slivnitza! A victory! And it was won by Sergius. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>with a cry of delight</i>). Ah! (<i>Rapturously.</i>) Oh, mother! (<i>Then, +with sudden anxiety</i>) Is father safe? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Of course: he sent me the news. Sergius is the hero of the hour, the idol of +the regiment. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Tell me, tell me. How was it! (<i>Ecstatically</i>) Oh, mother, mother, mother! +(<i>Raina pulls her mother down on the ottoman; and they kiss one another +frantically.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>with surging enthusiasm</i>). You can’t guess how splendid it is. A cavalry +charge—think of that! He defied our Russian commanders—acted without orders—led +a charge on his own responsibility—headed it himself—was the first man to sweep +through their guns. Can’t you see it, Raina; our gallant splendid Bulgarians +with their swords and eyes flashing, thundering down like an avalanche and +scattering the wretched Servian dandies like chaff. And you—you kept Sergius +waiting a year before you would be betrothed to him. Oh, if you have a drop of +Bulgarian blood in your veins, you will worship him when he comes back. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +What will he care for my poor little worship after the acclamations of a whole +army of heroes? But no matter: I am so happy—so proud! (<i>She rises and walks +about excitedly.</i>) It proves that all our ideas were real after all. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>indignantly</i>). Our ideas real! What do you mean? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Our ideas of what Sergius would do—our patriotism—our heroic ideals. Oh, what +faithless little creatures girls are!—I sometimes used to doubt whether they +were anything but dreams. When I buckled on Sergius’s sword he looked so noble: +it was treason to think of disillusion or humiliation or failure. And yet—and +yet—(<i>Quickly.</i>) Promise me you’ll never tell him. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Don’t ask me for promises until I know what I am promising. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Well, it came into my head just as he was holding me in his arms and looking +into my eyes, that perhaps we only had our heroic ideas because we are so fond +of reading Byron and Pushkin, and because we were so delighted with the opera +that season at Bucharest. Real life is so seldom like that—indeed never, as far +as I knew it then. (<i>Remorsefully.</i>) Only think, mother, I doubted him: I +wondered whether all his heroic qualities and his soldiership might not prove +mere imagination when he went into a real battle. I had an uneasy fear that he +might cut a poor figure there beside all those clever Russian officers. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +A poor figure! Shame on you! The Servians have Austrian officers who are just +as clever as our Russians; but we have beaten them in every battle for all +that. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>laughing and sitting down again</i>). Yes, I was only a prosaic little +coward. Oh, to think that it was all true—that Sergius is just as splendid and +noble as he looks—that the world is really a glorious world for women who can +see its glory and men who can act its romance! What happiness! what unspeakable +fulfilment! Ah! (<i>She throws herself on her knees beside her mother and +flings her arms passionately round her. They are interrupted by the entry of +Louka, a handsome, proud girl in a pretty Bulgarian peasant’s dress with double +apron, so defiant that her servility to Raina is almost insolent. She is afraid +of Catherine, but even with her goes as far as she dares. She is just now +excited like the others; but she has no sympathy for Raina’s raptures and looks +contemptuously at the ecstasies of the two before she addresses them.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +If you please, madam, all the windows are to be closed and the shutters made +fast. They say there may be shooting in the streets. (<i>Raina and Catherine +rise together, alarmed.</i>) The Servians are being chased right back through +the pass; and they say they may run into the town. Our cavalry will be after +them; and our people will be ready for them you may be sure, now that they are +running away. (<i>She goes out on the balcony and pulls the outside shutters +to; then steps back into the room.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +I wish our people were not so cruel. What glory is there in killing wretched +fugitives? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>business-like, her housekeeping instincts aroused</i>). I must see that +everything is made safe downstairs. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>to Louka</i>). Leave the shutters so that I can just close them if I hear +any noise. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>authoritatively, turning on her way to the door</i>). Oh, no, dear, you +must keep them fastened. You would be sure to drop off to sleep and leave them +open. Make them fast, Louka. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Yes, madam. (<i>She fastens them.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Don’t be anxious about me. The moment I hear a shot, I shall blow out the +candles and roll myself up in bed with my ears well covered. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Quite the wisest thing you can do, my love. Good-night. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Good-night. (<i>They kiss one another, and Raina’s emotion comes back for a +moment.</i>) Wish me joy of the happiest night of my life—if only there are no +fugitives. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Go to bed, dear; and don’t think of them. (<i>She goes out.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>secretly, to Raina</i>). If you would like the shutters open, just give +them a push like this. (<i>She pushes them: they open: she pulls them to +again.</i>) One of them ought to be bolted at the bottom; but the bolt’s gone. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>with dignity, reproving her</i>). Thanks, Louka; but we must do what we are +told. (<i>Louka makes a grimace.</i>) Good-night. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>carelessly</i>). Good-night. (<i>She goes out, swaggering.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Raina, left alone, goes to the chest of drawers, and adores the portrait +there with feelings that are beyond all expression. She does not kiss it or +press it to her breast, or shew it any mark of bodily affection; but she takes +it in her hands and elevates it like a priestess.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>looking up at the picture with worship.</i>) Oh, I shall never be unworthy +of you any more, my hero—never, never, never. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>She replaces it reverently, and selects a novel from the little pile of +books. She turns over the leaves dreamily; finds her page; turns the book +inside out at it; and then, with a happy sigh, gets into bed and prepares to +read herself to sleep. But before abandoning herself to fiction, she raises her +eyes once more, thinking of the blessed reality and murmurs</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +My hero! my hero! +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>A distant shot breaks the quiet of the night outside. She starts, +listening; and two more shots, much nearer, follow, startling her so that she +scrambles out of bed, and hastily blows out the candle on the chest of drawers. +Then, putting her fingers in her ears, she runs to the dressing-table and blows +out the light there, and hurries back to bed. The room is now in darkness: +nothing is visible but the glimmer of the light in the pierced ball before the +image, and the starlight seen through the slits at the top of the shutters. The +firing breaks out again: there is a startling fusillade quite close at hand. +Whilst it is still echoing, the shutters disappear, pulled open from without, +and for an instant the rectangle of snowy starlight flashes out with the figure +of a man in black upon it. The shutters close immediately and the room is dark +again. But the silence is now broken by the sound of panting. Then there is a +scrape; and the flame of a match is seen in the middle of the room.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>crouching on the bed</i>). Who’s there? (<i>The match is out +instantly.</i>) Who’s there? Who is that? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +A MAN’S VOICE.<br/> +(<i>in the darkness, subduedly, but threateningly</i>). Sh—sh! Don’t call out +or you’ll be shot. Be good; and no harm will happen to you. (<i>She is heard +leaving her bed, and making for the door.</i>) Take care, there’s no use in +trying to run away. Remember, if you raise your voice my pistol will go off. +(<i>Commandingly.</i>) Strike a light and let me see you. Do you hear? +(<i>Another moment of silence and darkness. Then she is heard retreating to the +dressing-table. She lights a candle, and the mystery is at an end. A man of +about 35, in a deplorable plight, bespattered with mud and blood and snow, his +belt and the strap of his revolver case keeping together the torn ruins of the +blue coat of a Servian artillery officer. As far as the candlelight and his +unwashed, unkempt condition make it possible to judge, he is a man of middling +stature and undistinguished appearance, with strong neck and shoulders, a +roundish, obstinate looking head covered with short crisp bronze curls, clear +quick blue eyes and good brows and mouth, a hopelessly prosaic nose like that +of a strong-minded baby, trim soldierlike carriage and energetic manner, and +with all his wits about him in spite of his desperate predicament—even with a +sense of humor of it, without, however, the least intention of trifling with it +or throwing away a chance. He reckons up what he can guess about Raina—her age, +her social position, her character, the extent to which she is frightened—at a +glance, and continues, more politely but still most determinedly</i>) Excuse my +disturbing you; but you recognise my uniform—Servian. If I’m caught I shall be +killed. (<i>Determinedly.</i>) Do you understand that? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Yes. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +Well, I don’t intend to get killed if I can help it. (<i>Still more +determinedly.</i>) Do you understand that? (<i>He locks the door with a +snap.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>disdainfully</i>). I suppose not. (<i>She draws herself up superbly, and +looks him straight in the face, saying with emphasis</i>) Some soldiers, I +know, are afraid of death. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>with grim goodhumor</i>). All of them, dear lady, all of them, believe me. +It is our duty to live as long as we can, and kill as many of the enemy as we +can. Now if you raise an alarm— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>cutting him short</i>). You will shoot me. How do you know that I am afraid +to die? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>cunningly</i>). Ah; but suppose I don’t shoot you, what will happen then? +Why, a lot of your cavalry—the greatest blackguards in your army—will burst +into this pretty room of yours and slaughter me here like a pig; for I’ll fight +like a demon: they shan’t get me into the street to amuse themselves with: I +know what they are. Are you prepared to receive that sort of company in your +present undress? (<i>Raina, suddenly conscious of her nightgown, instinctively +shrinks and gathers it more closely about her. He watches her, and adds, +pitilessly</i>) It’s rather scanty, eh? (<i>She turns to the ottoman. He raises +his pistol instantly, and cries</i>) Stop! (<i>She stops.</i>) Where are you +going? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>with dignified patience</i>). Only to get my cloak. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>darting to the ottoman and snatching the cloak</i>). A good idea. No: I’ll +keep the cloak: and you will take care that nobody comes in and sees you +without it. This is a better weapon than the pistol. (<i>He throws the pistol +down on the ottoman.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>revolted</i>). It is not the weapon of a gentleman! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +It’s good enough for a man with only you to stand between him and death. (<i>As +they look at one another for a moment, Raina hardly able to believe that even a +Servian officer can be so cynically and selfishly unchivalrous, they are +startled by a sharp fusillade in the street. The chill of imminent death hushes +the man’s voice as he adds</i>) Do you hear? If you are going to bring those +scoundrels in on me you shall receive them as you are. (<i>Raina meets his eye +with unflinching scorn. Suddenly he starts, listening. There is a step outside. +Someone tries the door, and then knocks hurriedly and urgently at it. Raina +looks at the man, breathless. He throws up his head with the gesture of a man +who sees that it is all over with him, and, dropping the manner which he has +been assuming to intimidate her, flings the cloak to her, exclaiming, sincerely +and kindly</i>) No use: I’m done for. Quick! wrap yourself up: they’re coming! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>catching the cloak eagerly</i>). Oh, thank you. (<i>She wraps herself up +with great relief. He draws his sabre and turns to the door, waiting.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>outside, knocking</i>). My lady, my lady! Get up, quick, and open the door. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>anxiously</i>). What will you do? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>grimly</i>). Never mind. Keep out of the way. It will not last long. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>impulsively</i>). I’ll help you. Hide yourself, oh, hide yourself, quick, +behind the curtain. (<i>She seizes him by a torn strip of his sleeve, and pulls +him towards the window.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>yielding to her</i>). There is just half a chance, if you keep your head. +Remember: nine soldiers out of ten are born fools. (<i>He hides behind the +curtain, looking out for a moment to say, finally</i>) If they find me, I +promise you a fight—a devil of a fight! (<i>He disappears. Raina takes off the +cloak and throws it across the foot of the bed. Then with a sleepy, disturbed +air, she opens the door. Louka enters excitedly.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +A man has been seen climbing up the water-pipe to your balcony—a Servian. The +soldiers want to search for him; and they are so wild and drunk and furious. My +lady says you are to dress at once. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>as if annoyed at being disturbed</i>). They shall not search here. Why have +they been let in? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>coming in hastily</i>). Raina, darling, are you safe? Have you seen anyone +or heard anything? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +I heard the shooting. Surely the soldiers will not dare come in here? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +I have found a Russian officer, thank Heaven: he knows Sergius. (<i>Speaking +through the door to someone outside.</i>) Sir, will you come in now! My +daughter is ready. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>A young Russian officer, in Bulgarian uniform, enters, sword in hand.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +THE OFFICER.<br/> +(<i>with soft, feline politeness and stiff military carriage</i>). Good +evening, gracious lady; I am sorry to intrude, but there is a fugitive hiding +on the balcony. Will you and the gracious lady your mother please to withdraw +whilst we search? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>petulantly</i>). Nonsense, sir, you can see that there is no one on the +balcony. (<i>She throws the shutters wide open and stands with her back to the +curtain where the man is hidden, pointing to the moonlit balcony. A couple of +shots are fired right under the window, and a bullet shatters the glass +opposite Raina, who winks and gasps, but stands her ground, whilst Catherine +screams, and the officer rushes to the balcony.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +THE OFFICER.<br/> +(<i>on the balcony, shouting savagely down to the street</i>). Cease firing +there, you fools: do you hear? Cease firing, damn you. (<i>He glares down for a +moment; then turns to Raina, trying to resume his polite manner.</i>) Could +anyone have got in without your knowledge? Were you asleep? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +No, I have not been to bed. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +THE OFFICER.<br/> +(<i>impatiently, coming back into the room</i>). Your neighbours have their +heads so full of runaway Servians that they see them everywhere. +(<i>Politely.</i>) Gracious lady, a thousand pardons. Good-night. (<i>Military +bow, which Raina returns coldly. Another to Catherine, who follows him out. +Raina closes the shutters. She turns and sees Louka, who has been watching the +scene curiously.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Don’t leave my mother, Louka, whilst the soldiers are here. (<i>Louka glances +at Raina, at the ottoman, at the curtain; then purses her lips secretively, +laughs to herself, and goes out. Raina follows her to the door, shuts it behind +her with a slam, and locks it violently. The man immediately steps out from +behind the curtain, sheathing his sabre, and dismissing the danger from his +mind in a businesslike way.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +A narrow shave; but a miss is as good as a mile. Dear young lady, your servant +until death. I wish for your sake I had joined the Bulgarian army instead of +the Servian. I am not a native Servian. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>haughtily</i>). No, you are one of the Austrians who set the Servians on to +rob us of our national liberty, and who officer their army for them. We hate +them! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +Austrian! not I. Don’t hate me, dear young lady. I am only a Swiss, fighting +merely as a professional soldier. I joined Servia because it was nearest to me. +Be generous: you’ve beaten us hollow. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Have I not been generous? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +Noble!—heroic! But I’m not saved yet. This particular rush will soon pass +through; but the pursuit will go on all night by fits and starts. I must take +my chance to get off during a quiet interval. You don’t mind my waiting just a +minute or two, do you? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Oh, no: I am sorry you will have to go into danger again. (<i>Motioning towards +ottoman.</i>) Won’t you sit—(<i>She breaks off with an irrepressible cry of +alarm as she catches sight of the pistol. The man, all nerves, shies like a +frightened horse.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>irritably</i>). Don’t frighten me like that. What is it? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Your pistol! It was staring that officer in the face all the time. What an +escape! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>vexed at being unnecessarily terrified</i>). Oh, is that all? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>staring at him rather superciliously, conceiving a poorer and poorer +opinion of him, and feeling proportionately more and more at her ease with +him</i>). I am sorry I frightened you. (<i>She takes up the pistol and hands it +to him.</i>) Pray take it to protect yourself against me. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>grinning wearily at the sarcasm as he takes the pistol</i>). No use, dear +young lady: there’s nothing in it. It’s not loaded. (<i>He makes a grimace at +it, and drops it disparagingly into his revolver case.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Load it by all means. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +I’ve no ammunition. What use are cartridges in battle? I always carry chocolate +instead; and I finished the last cake of that yesterday. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>outraged in her most cherished ideals of manhood</i>). Chocolate! Do you +stuff your pockets with sweets—like a schoolboy—even in the field? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +Yes. Isn’t it contemptible? +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Raina stares at him, unable to utter her feelings. Then she sails away +scornfully to the chest of drawers, and returns with the box of confectionery +in her hand.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Allow me. I am sorry I have eaten them all except these. (<i>She offers him the +box.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>ravenously</i>). You’re an angel! (<i>He gobbles the comfits.</i>) Creams! +Delicious! (<i>He looks anxiously to see whether there are any more. There are +none. He accepts the inevitable with pathetic goodhumor, and says, with +grateful emotion</i>) Bless you, dear lady. You can always tell an old soldier +by the inside of his holsters and cartridge boxes. The young ones carry pistols +and cartridges; the old ones, grub. Thank you. (<i>He hands back the box. She +snatches it contemptuously from him and throws it away. This impatient action +is so sudden that he shies again.</i>) Ugh! Don’t do things so suddenly, +gracious lady. Don’t revenge yourself because I frightened you just now. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>superbly</i>). Frighten me! Do you know, sir, that though I am only a +woman, I think I am at heart as brave as you. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +I should think so. You haven’t been under fire for three days as I have. I can +stand two days without shewing it much; but no man can stand three days: I’m as +nervous as a mouse. (<i>He sits down on the ottoman, and takes his head in his +hands.</i>) Would you like to see me cry? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>quickly</i>). No. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +If you would, all you have to do is to scold me just as if I were a little boy +and you my nurse. If I were in camp now they’d play all sorts of tricks on me. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>a little moved</i>). I’m sorry. I won’t scold you. (<i>Touched by the +sympathy in her tone, he raises his head and looks gratefully at her: she +immediately draws back and says stiffly</i>) You must excuse me: our soldiers +are not like that. (<i>She moves away from the ottoman.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +Oh, yes, they are. There are only two sorts of soldiers: old ones and young +ones. I’ve served fourteen years: half of your fellows never smelt powder +before. Why, how is it that you’ve just beaten us? Sheer ignorance of the art +of war, nothing else. (<i>Indignantly.</i>) I never saw anything so +unprofessional. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>ironically</i>). Oh, was it unprofessional to beat you? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +Well, come, is it professional to throw a regiment of cavalry on a battery of +machine guns, with the dead certainty that if the guns go off not a horse or +man will ever get within fifty yards of the fire? I couldn’t believe my eyes +when I saw it. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>eagerly turning to him, as all her enthusiasm and her dream of glory rush +back on her</i>). Did you see the great cavalry charge? Oh, tell me about it. +Describe it to me. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +You never saw a cavalry charge, did you? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +How could I? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +Ah, perhaps not—of course. Well, it’s a funny sight. It’s like slinging a +handful of peas against a window pane: first one comes; then two or three close +behind him; and then all the rest in a lump. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>her eyes dilating as she raises her clasped hands ecstatically</i>). Yes, +first One!—the bravest of the brave! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>prosaically</i>). Hm! you should see the poor devil pulling at his horse. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Why should he pull at his horse? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>impatient of so stupid a question</i>). It’s running away with him, of +course: do you suppose the fellow wants to get there before the others and be +killed? Then they all come. You can tell the young ones by their wildness and +their slashing. The old ones come bunched up under the number one guard: they +know that they are mere projectiles, and that it’s no use trying to fight. The +wounds are mostly broken knees, from the horses cannoning together. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Ugh! But I don’t believe the first man is a coward. I believe he is a hero! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>goodhumoredly</i>). That’s what you’d have said if you’d seen the first man +in the charge to-day. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>breathless</i>). Ah, I knew it! Tell me—tell me about him. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +He did it like an operatic tenor—a regular handsome fellow, with flashing eyes +and lovely moustache, shouting a war-cry and charging like Don Quixote at the +windmills. We nearly burst with laughter at him; but when the sergeant ran up +as white as a sheet, and told us they’d sent us the wrong cartridges, and that +we couldn’t fire a shot for the next ten minutes, we laughed at the other side +of our mouths. I never felt so sick in my life, though I’ve been in one or two +very tight places. And I hadn’t even a revolver cartridge—nothing but +chocolate. We’d no bayonets—nothing. Of course, they just cut us to bits. And +there was Don Quixote flourishing like a drum major, thinking he’d done the +cleverest thing ever known, whereas he ought to be courtmartialled for it. Of +all the fools ever let loose on a field of battle, that man must be the very +maddest. He and his regiment simply committed suicide—only the pistol missed +fire, that’s all. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>deeply wounded, but steadfastly loyal to her ideals</i>). Indeed! Would you +know him again if you saw him? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +Shall I ever forget him. (<i>She again goes to the chest of drawers. He watches +her with a vague hope that she may have something else for him to eat. She +takes the portrait from its stand and brings it to him.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +That is a photograph of the gentleman—the patriot and hero—to whom I am +betrothed. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>looking at it</i>). I’m really very sorry. (<i>Looking at her.</i>) Was it +fair to lead me on? (<i>He looks at the portrait again.</i>) Yes: that’s him: +not a doubt of it. (<i>He stifles a laugh.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>quickly</i>). Why do you laugh? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>shamefacedly, but still greatly tickled</i>). I didn’t laugh, I assure you. +At least I didn’t mean to. But when I think of him charging the windmills and +thinking he was doing the finest thing—(<i>chokes with suppressed +laughter</i>). +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>sternly</i>). Give me back the portrait, sir. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>with sincere remorse</i>). Of course. Certainly. I’m really very sorry. +(<i>She deliberately kisses it, and looks him straight in the face, before +returning to the chest of drawers to replace it. He follows her, +apologizing.</i>) Perhaps I’m quite wrong, you know: no doubt I am. Most likely +he had got wind of the cartridge business somehow, and knew it was a safe job. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +That is to say, he was a pretender and a coward! You did not dare say that +before. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>with a comic gesture of despair</i>). It’s no use, dear lady: I can’t make +you see it from the professional point of view. (<i>As he turns away to get +back to the ottoman, the firing begins again in the distance.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>sternly, as she sees him listening to the shots</i>). So much the better +for you. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>turning</i>). How? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +You are my enemy; and you are at my mercy. What would I do if I were a +professional soldier? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +Ah, true, dear young lady: you’re always right. I know how good you have been +to me: to my last hour I shall remember those three chocolate creams. It was +unsoldierly; but it was angelic. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>coldly</i>). Thank you. And now I will do a soldierly thing. You cannot +stay here after what you have just said about my future husband; but I will go +out on the balcony and see whether it is safe for you to climb down into the +street. (<i>She turns to the window.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>changing countenance</i>). Down that waterpipe! Stop! Wait! I can’t! I +daren’t! The very thought of it makes me giddy. I came up it fast enough with +death behind me. But to face it now in cold blood!—(<i>He sinks on the +ottoman.</i>) It’s no use: I give up: I’m beaten. Give the alarm. (<i>He drops +his head in his hands in the deepest dejection.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>disarmed by pity</i>). Come, don’t be disheartened. (<i>She stoops over him +almost maternally: he shakes his head.</i>) Oh, you are a very poor soldier—a +chocolate cream soldier. Come, cheer up: it takes less courage to climb down +than to face capture—remember that. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>dreamily, lulled by her voice</i>). No, capture only means death; and death +is sleep—oh, sleep, sleep, sleep, undisturbed sleep! Climbing down the pipe +means doing something—exerting myself—thinking! Death ten times over first. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>softly and wonderingly, catching the rhythm of his weariness</i>). Are you +so sleepy as that? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +I’ve not had two hours’ undisturbed sleep since the war began. I’m on the +staff: you don’t know what that means. I haven’t closed my eyes for thirty-six +hours. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>desperately</i>). But what am I to do with you. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>staggering up</i>). Of course I must do something. (<i>He shakes himself; +pulls himself together; and speaks with rallied vigour and courage.</i>) You +see, sleep or no sleep, hunger or no hunger, tired or not tired, you can always +do a thing when you know it must be done. Well, that pipe must be got +down—(<i>He hits himself on the chest, and adds</i>)—Do you hear that, you +chocolate cream soldier? (<i>He turns to the window.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>anxiously</i>). But if you fall? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +I shall sleep as if the stones were a feather bed. Good-bye. (<i>He makes +boldly for the window, and his hand is on the shutter when there is a terrible +burst of firing in the street beneath.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>rushing to him</i>). Stop! (<i>She catches him by the shoulder, and turns +him quite round.</i>) They’ll kill you. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>coolly, but attentively</i>). Never mind: this sort of thing is all in my +day’s work. I’m bound to take my chance. (<i>Decisively.</i>) Now do what I +tell you. Put out the candles, so that they shan’t see the light when I open +the shutters. And keep away from the window, whatever you do. If they see me, +they’re sure to have a shot at me. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>clinging to him</i>). They’re sure to see you: it’s bright moonlight. I’ll +save you—oh, how can you be so indifferent? You want me to save you, don’t you? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +I really don’t want to be troublesome. (<i>She shakes him in her +impatience.</i>) I am not indifferent, dear young lady, I assure you. But how +is it to be done? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Come away from the window—please. (<i>She coaxes him back to the middle of the +room. He submits humbly. She releases him, and addresses him +patronizingly.</i>) Now listen. You must trust to our hospitality. You do not +yet know in whose house you are. I am a Petkoff. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +What’s that? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>rather indignantly</i>). I mean that I belong to the family of the +Petkoffs, the richest and best known in our country. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +Oh, yes, of course. I beg your pardon. The Petkoffs, to be sure. How stupid of +me! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +You know you never heard of them until this minute. How can you stoop to +pretend? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +Forgive me: I’m too tired to think; and the change of subject was too much for +me. Don’t scold me. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +I forgot. It might make you cry. (<i>He nods, quite seriously. She pouts and +then resumes her patronizing tone.</i>) I must tell you that my father holds +the highest command of any Bulgarian in our army. He is (<i>proudly</i>) a +Major. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>pretending to be deeply impressed</i>). A Major! Bless me! Think of that! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +You shewed great ignorance in thinking that it was necessary to climb up to the +balcony, because ours is the only private house that has two rows of windows. +There is a flight of stairs inside to get up and down by. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +Stairs! How grand! You live in great luxury indeed, dear young lady. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Do you know what a library is? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +A library? A roomful of books. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Yes, we have one, the only one in Bulgaria. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +Actually a real library! I should like to see that. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>affectedly</i>). I tell you these things to shew you that you are not in +the house of ignorant country folk who would kill you the moment they saw your +Servian uniform, but among civilized people. We go to Bucharest every year for +the opera season; and I have spent a whole month in Vienna. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +I saw that, dear young lady. I saw at once that you knew the world. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Have you ever seen the opera of Ernani? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +Is that the one with the devil in it in red velvet, and a soldier’s chorus? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>contemptuously</i>). No! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>stifling a heavy sigh of weariness</i>). Then I don’t know it. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +I thought you might have remembered the great scene where Ernani, flying from +his foes just as you are tonight, takes refuge in the castle of his bitterest +enemy, an old Castilian noble. The noble refuses to give him up. His guest is +sacred to him. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>quickly waking up a little</i>). Have your people got that notion? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>with dignity</i>). My mother and I can understand that notion, as you call +it. And if instead of threatening me with your pistol as you did, you had +simply thrown yourself as a fugitive on our hospitality, you would have been as +safe as in your father’s house. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +Quite sure? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>turning her back on him in disgust.</i>) Oh, it is useless to try and make +you understand. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +Don’t be angry: you see how awkward it would be for me if there was any +mistake. My father is a very hospitable man: he keeps six hotels; but I +couldn’t trust him as far as that. What about YOUR father? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +He is away at Slivnitza fighting for his country. I answer for your safety. +There is my hand in pledge of it. Will that reassure you? (<i>She offers him +her hand.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>looking dubiously at his own hand</i>). Better not touch my hand, dear +young lady. I must have a wash first. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>touched</i>). That is very nice of you. I see that you are a gentleman. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>puzzled</i>). Eh? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +You must not think I am surprised. Bulgarians of really good standing—people in +OUR position—wash their hands nearly every day. But I appreciate your delicacy. +You may take my hand. (<i>She offers it again.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>kissing it with his hands behind his back</i>). Thanks, gracious young +lady: I feel safe at last. And now would you mind breaking the news to your +mother? I had better not stay here secretly longer than is necessary. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +If you will be so good as to keep perfectly still whilst I am away. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +Certainly. (<i>He sits down on the ottoman.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Raina goes to the bed and wraps herself in the fur cloak. His eyes close. +She goes to the door, but on turning for a last look at him, sees that he is +dropping of to sleep.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>at the door</i>). You are not going asleep, are you? (<i>He murmurs +inarticulately: she runs to him and shakes him.</i>) Do you hear? Wake up: you +are falling asleep. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +Eh? Falling aslee—? Oh, no, not the least in the world: I was only thinking. +It’s all right: I’m wide awake. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>severely</i>). Will you please stand up while I am away. (<i>He rises +reluctantly.</i>) All the time, mind. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>standing unsteadily</i>). Certainly—certainly: you may depend on me. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Raina looks doubtfully at him. He smiles foolishly. She goes reluctantly, +turning again at the door, and almost catching him in the act of yawning. She +goes out.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MAN.<br/> +(<i>drowsily</i>). Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, slee—(<i>The words trail off +into a murmur. He wakes again with a shock on the point of falling.</i>) Where +am I? That’s what I want to know: where am I? Must keep awake. Nothing keeps me +awake except danger—remember that—(<i>intently</i>) danger, danger, danger, +dan— Where’s danger? Must find it. (<i>He starts of vaguely around the room in +search of it.</i>) What am I looking for? Sleep—danger—don’t know. (<i>He +stumbles against the bed.</i>) Ah, yes: now I know. All right now. I’m to go to +bed, but not to sleep—be sure not to sleep—because of danger. Not to lie down, +either, only sit down. (<i>He sits on the bed. A blissful expression comes into +his face.</i>) Ah! (<i>With a happy sigh he sinks back at full length; lifts +his boots into the bed with a final effort; and falls fast asleep +instantly.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Catherine comes in, followed by Raina.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>looking at the ottoman</i>). He’s gone! I left him here. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Here! Then he must have climbed down from the— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>seeing him</i>). Oh! (<i>She points.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>scandalized</i>). Well! (<i>She strides to the left side of the bed, Raina +following and standing opposite her on the right.</i>) He’s fast asleep. The +brute! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>anxiously</i>). Sh! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>shaking him</i>). Sir! (<i>Shaking him again, harder.</i>) Sir!! +(<i>Vehemently shaking very bard.</i>) Sir!!! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>catching her arm</i>). Don’t, mamma: the poor dear is worn out. Let him +sleep. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>letting him go and turning amazed to Raina</i>). The poor dear! Raina!!! +(<i>She looks sternly at her daughter. The man sleeps profoundly.</i>) +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap04"></a>ACT II</h2> + +<p class="stage"> +The sixth of March, 1886. In the garden of major Petkoff’s house. It is a fine +spring morning; and the garden looks fresh and pretty. Beyond the paling the +tops of a couple of minarets can be seen, shewing that there is a valley there, +with the little town in it. A few miles further the Balkan mountains rise and +shut in the view. Within the garden the side of the house is seen on the right, +with a garden door reached by a little flight of steps. On the left the stable +yard, with its gateway, encroaches on the garden. There are fruit bushes along +the paling and house, covered with washing hung out to dry. A path runs by the +house, and rises by two steps at the corner where it turns out of the right +along the front. In the middle a small table, with two bent wood chairs at it, +is laid for breakfast with Turkish coffee pot, cups, rolls, etc.; but the cups +have been used and the bread broken. There is a wooden garden seat against the +wall on the left. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +Louka, smoking a cigaret, is standing between the table and the house, turning +her back with angry disdain on a man-servant who is lecturing her. He is a +middle-aged man of cool temperament and low but clear and keen intelligence, +with the complacency of the servant who values himself on his rank in +servility, and the imperturbability of the accurate calculator who has no +illusions. He wears a white Bulgarian costume jacket with decorated border, +sash, wide knickerbockers, and decorated gaiters. His head is shaved up to the +crown, giving him a high Japanese forehead. His name is Nicola. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +Be warned in time, Louka: mend your manners. I know the mistress. She is so +grand that she never dreams that any servant could dare to be disrespectful to +her; but if she once suspects that you are defying her, out you go. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +I do defy her. I will defy her. What do I care for her? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +If you quarrel with the family, I never can marry you. It’s the same as if you +quarrelled with me! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +You take her part against me, do you? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>sedately</i>). I shall always be dependent on the good will of the family. +When I leave their service and start a shop in Sofia, their custom will be half +my capital: their bad word would ruin me. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +You have no spirit. I should like to see them dare say a word against me! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>pityingly</i>). I should have expected more sense from you, Louka. But +you’re young, you’re young! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Yes; and you like me the better for it, don’t you? But I know some family +secrets they wouldn’t care to have told, young as I am. Let them quarrel with +me if they dare! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>with compassionate superiority</i>). Do you know what they would do if they +heard you talk like that? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +What could they do? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +Discharge you for untruthfulness. Who would believe any stories you told after +that? Who would give you another situation? Who in this house would dare be +seen speaking to you ever again? How long would your father be left on his +little farm? (<i>She impatiently throws away the end of her cigaret, and stamps +on it.</i>) Child, you don’t know the power such high people have over the like +of you and me when we try to rise out of our poverty against them. (<i>He goes +close to her and lowers his voice.</i>) Look at me, ten years in their service. +Do you think I know no secrets? I know things about the mistress that she +wouldn’t have the master know for a thousand levas. I know things about him +that she wouldn’t let him hear the last of for six months if I blabbed them to +her. I know things about Raina that would break off her match with Sergius if— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>turning on him quickly</i>). How do you know? I never told you! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>opening his eyes cunningly</i>). So that’s your little secret, is it? I +thought it might be something like that. Well, you take my advice, and be +respectful; and make the mistress feel that no matter what you know or don’t +know, they can depend on you to hold your tongue and serve the family +faithfully. That’s what they like; and that’s how you’ll make most out of them. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>with searching scorn</i>). You have the soul of a servant, Nicola. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>complacently</i>). Yes: that’s the secret of success in service. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>A loud knocking with a whip handle on a wooden door, outside on the left, +is heard.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +MALE VOICE OUTSIDE.<br/> +Hollo! Hollo there! Nicola! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Master! back from the war! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>quickly</i>). My word for it, Louka, the war’s over. Off with you and get +some fresh coffee. (<i>He runs out into the stable yard.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>as she puts the coffee pot and the cups upon the tray, and carries it into +the house</i>). You’ll never put the soul of a servant into me. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Major Petkoff comes from the stable yard, followed by Nicola. He is a +cheerful, excitable, insignificant, unpolished man of about 50, naturally +unambitious except as to his income and his importance in local society, but +just now greatly pleased with the military rank which the war has thrust on him +as a man of consequence in his town. The fever of plucky patriotism which the +Servian attack roused in all the Bulgarians has pulled him through the war; but +he is obviously glad to be home again.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>pointing to the table with his whip</i>). Breakfast out here, eh? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +Yes, sir. The mistress and Miss Raina have just gone in. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>sitting down and taking a roll</i>). Go in and say I’ve come; and get me +some fresh coffee. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +It’s coming, sir. (<i>He goes to the house door. Louka, with fresh coffee, a +clean cup, and a brandy bottle on her tray meets him.</i>) Have you told the +mistress? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Yes: she’s coming. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Nicola goes into the house. Louka brings the coffee to the table.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Well, the Servians haven’t run away with you, have they? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +No, sir. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +That’s right. Have you brought me some cognac? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>putting the bottle on the table</i>). Here, sir. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +That’s right. (<i>He pours some into his coffee.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Catherine who has at this early hour made only a very perfunctory toilet, +and wears a Bulgarian apron over a once brilliant, but now half worn out red +dressing gown, and a colored handkerchief tied over her thick black hair, with +Turkish slippers on her bare feet, comes from the house, looking astonishingly +handsome and stately under all the circumstances. Louka goes into the +house.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +My dear Paul, what a surprise for us. (<i>She stoops over the back of his chair +to kiss him.</i>) Have they brought you fresh coffee? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Yes, Louka’s been looking after me. The war’s over. The treaty was signed three +days ago at Bucharest; and the decree for our army to demobilize was issued +yesterday. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>springing erect, with flashing eyes</i>). The war over! Paul: have you let +the Austrians force you to make peace? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>submissively</i>). My dear: they didn’t consult me. What could <i>I</i> do? +(<i>She sits down and turns away from him.</i>) But of course we saw to it that +the treaty was an honorable one. It declares peace— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>outraged</i>). Peace! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>appeasing her</i>).—but not friendly relations: remember that. They wanted +to put that in; but I insisted on its being struck out. What more could I do? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +You could have annexed Servia and made Prince Alexander Emperor of the Balkans. +That’s what I would have done. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +I don’t doubt it in the least, my dear. But I should have had to subdue the +whole Austrian Empire first; and that would have kept me too long away from +you. I missed you greatly. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>relenting</i>). Ah! (<i>Stretches her hand affectionately across the table +to squeeze his.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +And how have you been, my dear? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Oh, my usual sore throats, that’s all. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>with conviction</i>). That comes from washing your neck every day. I’ve +often told you so. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Nonsense, Paul! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>over his coffee and cigaret</i>). I don’t believe in going too far with +these modern customs. All this washing can’t be good for the health: it’s not +natural. There was an Englishman at Phillipopolis who used to wet himself all +over with cold water every morning when he got up. Disgusting! It all comes +from the English: their climate makes them so dirty that they have to be +perpetually washing themselves. Look at my father: he never had a bath in his +life; and he lived to be ninety-eight, the healthiest man in Bulgaria. I don’t +mind a good wash once a week to keep up my position; but once a day is carrying +the thing to a ridiculous extreme. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +You are a barbarian at heart still, Paul. I hope you behaved yourself before +all those Russian officers. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +I did my best. I took care to let them know that we had a library. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Ah; but you didn’t tell them that we have an electric bell in it? I have had +one put up. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +What’s an electric bell? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +You touch a button; something tinkles in the kitchen; and then Nicola comes up. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Why not shout for him? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Civilized people never shout for their servants. I’ve learnt that while you +were away. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Well, I’ll tell you something I’ve learnt, too. Civilized people don’t hang out +their washing to dry where visitors can see it; so you’d better have all that +(<i>indicating the clothes on the bushes</i>) put somewhere else. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Oh, that’s absurd, Paul: I don’t believe really refined people notice such +things. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Someone is heard knocking at the stable gates.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +There’s Sergius. (<i>Shouting.</i>) Hollo, Nicola! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Oh, don’t shout, Paul: it really isn’t nice. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Bosh! (<i>He shouts louder than before.</i>) Nicola! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>appearing at the house door</i>). Yes, sir. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +If that is Major Saranoff, bring him round this way. (<i>He pronounces the name +with the stress on the second syllable—Sarah-noff.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +Yes, sir. (<i>He goes into the stable yard.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +You must talk to him, my dear, until Raina takes him off our hands. He bores my +life out about our not promoting him—over my head, mind you. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +He certainly ought to be promoted when he marries Raina. Besides, the country +should insist on having at least one native general. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Yes, so that he could throw away whole brigades instead of regiments. It’s no +use, my dear: he has not the slightest chance of promotion until we are quite +sure that the peace will be a lasting one. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>at the gate, announcing</i>). Major Sergius Saranoff! (<i>He goes into the +house and returns presently with a third chair, which he places at the table. +He then withdraws.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Major Sergius Saranoff, the original of the portrait in Raina’s room, is a +tall, romantically handsome man, with the physical hardihood, the high spirit, +and the susceptible imagination of an untamed mountaineer chieftain. But his +remarkable personal distinction is of a characteristically civilized type. The +ridges of his eyebrows, curving with a ram’s-horn twist round the marked +projections at the outer corners, his jealously observant eye, his nose, thin, +keen, and apprehensive in spite of the pugnacious high bridge and large +nostril, his assertive chin, would not be out of place in a Paris salon. In +short, the clever, imaginative barbarian has an acute critical faculty which +has been thrown into intense activity by the arrival of western civilization in +the Balkans; and the result is precisely what the advent of nineteenth-century +thought first produced in England: to-wit, Byronism. By his brooding on the +perpetual failure, not only of others, but of himself, to live up to his +imaginative ideals, his consequent cynical scorn for humanity, the jejune +credulity as to the absolute validity of his ideals and the unworthiness of the +world in disregarding them, his wincings and mockeries under the sting of the +petty disillusions which every hour spent among men brings to his infallibly +quick observation, he has acquired the half tragic, half ironic air, the +mysterious moodiness, the suggestion of a strange and terrible history that has +left him nothing but undying remorse, by which Childe Harold fascinated the +grandmothers of his English contemporaries. Altogether it is clear that here or +nowhere is Raina’s ideal hero. Catherine is hardly less enthusiastic, and much +less reserved in shewing her enthusiasm. As he enters from the stable gate, she +rises effusively to greet him. Petkoff is distinctly less disposed to make a +fuss about him.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Here already, Sergius. Glad to see you! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +My dear Sergius!(<i>She holds out both her hands.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>kissing them with scrupulous gallantry</i>). My dear mother, if I may call +you so. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>drily</i>). Mother-in-law, Sergius; mother-in-law! Sit down, and have some +coffee. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Thank you, none for me. (<i>He gets away from the table with a certain distaste +for Petkoff’s enjoyment of it, and posts himself with conscious grace against +the rail of the steps leading to the house.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +You look superb—splendid. The campaign has improved you. Everybody here is mad +about you. We were all wild with enthusiasm about that magnificent cavalry +charge. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>with grave irony</i>). Madam: it was the cradle and the grave of my +military reputation. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +How so? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +I won the battle the wrong way when our worthy Russian generals were losing it +the right way. That upset their plans, and wounded their self-esteem. Two of +their colonels got their regiments driven back on the correct principles of +scientific warfare. Two major-generals got killed strictly according to +military etiquette. Those two colonels are now major-generals; and I am still a +simple major. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +You shall not remain so, Sergius. The women are on your side; and they will see +that justice is done you. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +It is too late. I have only waited for the peace to send in my resignation. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>dropping his cup in his amazement</i>). Your resignation! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Oh, you must withdraw it! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>with resolute, measured emphasis, folding his arms</i>). I never withdraw! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>vexed</i>). Now who could have supposed you were going to do such a thing? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>with fire</i>). Everyone that knew me. But enough of myself and my affairs. +How is Raina; and where is Raina? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>suddenly coming round the corner of the house and standing at the top of +the steps in the path</i>). Raina is here. (<i>She makes a charming picture as +they all turn to look at her. She wears an underdress of pale green silk, +draped with an overdress of thin ecru canvas embroidered with gold. On her head +she wears a pretty Phrygian cap of gold tinsel. Sergius, with an exclamation of +pleasure, goes impulsively to meet her. She stretches out her hand: he drops +chivalrously on one knee and kisses it.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>aside to Catherine, beaming with parental pride</i>). Pretty, isn’t it? She +always appears at the right moment. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>impatiently</i>). Yes: she listens for it. It is an abominable habit. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Sergius leads Raina forward with splendid gallantry, as if she were a +queen. When they come to the table, she turns to him with a bend of the head; +he bows; and thus they separate, he coming to his place, and she going behind +her father’s chair.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>stooping and kissing her father</i>). Dear father! Welcome home! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>patting her cheek</i>). My little pet girl. (<i>He kisses her; she goes to +the chair left by Nicola for Sergius, and sits down.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +And so you’re no longer a soldier, Sergius. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +I am no longer a soldier. Soldiering, my dear madam, is the coward’s art of +attacking mercilessly when you are strong, and keeping out of harm’s way when +you are weak. That is the whole secret of successful fighting. Get your enemy +at a disadvantage; and never, on any account, fight him on equal terms. Eh, +Major! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +They wouldn’t let us make a fair stand-up fight of it. However, I suppose +soldiering has to be a trade like any other trade. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Precisely. But I have no ambition to succeed as a tradesman; so I have taken +the advice of that bagman of a captain that settled the exchange of prisoners +with us at Peerot, and given it up. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +What, that Swiss fellow? Sergius: I’ve often thought of that exchange since. He +over-reached us about those horses. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Of course he over-reached us. His father was a hotel and livery stable keeper; +and he owed his first step to his knowledge of horse-dealing. (<i>With mock +enthusiasm.</i>) Ah, he was a soldier—every inch a soldier! If only I had +bought the horses for my regiment instead of foolishly leading it into danger, +I should have been a field-marshal now! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +A Swiss? What was he doing in the Servian army? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +A volunteer of course—keen on picking up his profession. (<i>Chuckling.</i>) We +shouldn’t have been able to begin fighting if these foreigners hadn’t shewn us +how to do it: we knew nothing about it; and neither did the Servians. Egad, +there’d have been no war without them. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Are there many Swiss officers in the Servian Army? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +No—all Austrians, just as our officers were all Russians. This was the only +Swiss I came across. I’ll never trust a Swiss again. He cheated us—humbugged us +into giving him fifty able bodied men for two hundred confounded worn out +chargers. They weren’t even eatable! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +We were two children in the hands of that consummate soldier, Major: simply two +innocent little children. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +What was he like? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Oh, Raina, what a silly question! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +He was like a commercial traveller in uniform. Bourgeois to his boots. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>grinning</i>). Sergius: tell Catherine that queer story his friend told us +about him—how he escaped after Slivnitza. You remember?—about his being hid by +two women. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>with bitter irony</i>). Oh, yes, quite a romance. He was serving in the +very battery I so unprofessionally charged. Being a thorough soldier, he ran +away like the rest of them, with our cavalry at his heels. To escape their +attentions, he had the good taste to take refuge in the chamber of some +patriotic young Bulgarian lady. The young lady was enchanted by his persuasive +commercial traveller’s manners. She very modestly entertained him for an hour +or so and then called in her mother lest her conduct should appear unmaidenly. +The old lady was equally fascinated; and the fugitive was sent on his way in +the morning, disguised in an old coat belonging to the master of the house, who +was away at the war. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>rising with marked stateliness</i>). Your life in the camp has made you +coarse, Sergius. I did not think you would have repeated such a story before +me. (<i>She turns away coldly.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>also rising</i>). She is right, Sergius. If such women exist, we should be +spared the knowledge of them. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Pooh! nonsense! what does it matter? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>ashamed</i>). No, Petkoff: I was wrong. (<i>To Raina, with earnest +humility.</i>) I beg your pardon. I have behaved abominably. Forgive me, Raina. +(<i>She bows reservedly.</i>) And you, too, madam. (<i>Catherine bows +graciously and sits down. He proceeds solemnly, again addressing Raina.</i>) +The glimpses I have had of the seamy side of life during the last few months +have made me cynical; but I should not have brought my cynicism here—least of +all into your presence, Raina. I—(<i>Here, turning to the others, he is +evidently about to begin a long speech when the Major interrupts him.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Stuff and nonsense, Sergius. That’s quite enough fuss about nothing: a +soldier’s daughter should be able to stand up without flinching to a little +strong conversation. (<i>He rises.</i>) Come: it’s time for us to get to +business. We have to make up our minds how those three regiments are to get +back to Phillipopolis:—there’s no forage for them on the Sofia route. (<i>He +goes towards the house.</i>) Come along. (<i>Sergius is about to follow him +when Catherine rises and intervenes.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Oh, Paul, can’t you spare Sergius for a few moments? Raina has hardly seen him +yet. Perhaps I can help you to settle about the regiments. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>protesting</i>). My dear madam, impossible: you— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>stopping him playfully</i>). You stay here, my dear Sergius: there’s no +hurry. I have a word or two to say to Paul. (<i>Sergius instantly bows and +steps back.</i>) Now, dear (<i>taking Petkoff’s arm</i>), come and see the +electric bell. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Oh, very well, very well. (<i>They go into the house together affectionately. +Sergius, left alone with Raina, looks anxiously at her, fearing that she may be +still offended. She smiles, and stretches out her arms to him.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Exit R. into house, followed by Catherine.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>hastening to her, but refraining from touching her without express +permission</i>). Am I forgiven? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>placing her hands on his shoulder as she looks up at him with admiration +and worship</i>). My hero! My king. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +My queen! (<i>He kisses her on the forehead with holy awe.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +How I have envied you, Sergius! You have been out in the world, on the field of +battle, able to prove yourself there worthy of any woman in the world; whilst I +have had to sit at home inactive,—dreaming—useless—doing nothing that could +give me the right to call myself worthy of any man. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Dearest, all my deeds have been yours. You inspired me. I have gone through the +war like a knight in a tournament with his lady looking on at him! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +And you have never been absent from my thoughts for a moment. (<i>Very +solemnly.</i>) Sergius: I think we two have found the higher love. When I think +of you, I feel that I could never do a base deed, or think an ignoble thought. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +My lady, and my saint! (<i>Clasping her reverently.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>returning his embrace</i>). My lord and my g— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Sh—sh! Let me be the worshipper, dear. You little know how unworthy even the +best man is of a girl’s pure passion! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +I trust you. I love you. You will never disappoint me, Sergius. (<i>Louka is +heard singing within the house. They quickly release each other.</i>) Hush! I +can’t pretend to talk indifferently before her: my heart is too full. (<i>Louka +comes from the house with her tray. She goes to the table, and begins to clear +it, with her back turned to them.</i>) I will go and get my hat; and then we +can go out until lunch time. Wouldn’t you like that? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Be quick. If you are away five minutes, it will seem five hours. (<i>Raina runs +to the top of the steps and turns there to exchange a look with him and wave +him a kiss with both hands. He looks after her with emotion for a moment, then +turns slowly away, his face radiant with the exultation of the scene which has +just passed. The movement shifts his field of vision, into the corner of which +there now comes the tail of Louka’s double apron. His eye gleams at once. He +takes a stealthy look at her, and begins to twirl his moustache nervously, with +his left hand akimbo on his hip. Finally, striking the ground with his heels in +something of a cavalry swagger, he strolls over to the left of the table, +opposite her, and says</i>) Louka: do you know what the higher love is? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>astonished</i>). No, sir. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Very fatiguing thing to keep up for any length of time, Louka. One feels the +need of some relief after it. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>innocently</i>). Perhaps you would like some coffee, sir? (<i>She stretches +her hand across the table for the coffee pot.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>taking her hand</i>). Thank you, Louka. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>pretending to pull</i>). Oh, sir, you know I didn’t mean that. I’m +surprised at you! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>coming clear of the table and drawing her with him</i>). I am surprised at +myself, Louka. What would Sergius, the hero of Slivnitza, say if he saw me now? +What would Sergius, the apostle of the higher love, say if he saw me now? What +would the half dozen Sergiuses who keep popping in and out of this handsome +figure of mine say if they caught us here? (<i>Letting go her hand and slipping +his arm dexterously round her waist.</i>) Do you consider my figure handsome, +Louka? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Let me go, sir. I shall be disgraced. (<i>She struggles: he holds her +inexorably.</i>) Oh, will you let go? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>looking straight into her eyes</i>). No. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Then stand back where we can’t be seen. Have you no common sense? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Ah, that’s reasonable. (<i>He takes her into the stableyard gateway, where they +are hidden from the house.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>complaining</i>). I may have been seen from the windows: Miss Raina is sure +to be spying about after you. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>stung—letting her go</i>). Take care, Louka. I may be worthless enough to +betray the higher love; but do not you insult it. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>demurely</i>). Not for the world, sir, I’m sure. May I go on with my work +please, now? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>again putting his arm round her</i>). You are a provoking little witch, +Louka. If you were in love with me, would you spy out of windows on me? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Well, you see, sir, since you say you are half a dozen different gentlemen all +at once, I should have a great deal to look after. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>charmed</i>). Witty as well as pretty. (<i>He tries to kiss her.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>avoiding him</i>). No, I don’t want your kisses. Gentlefolk are all +alike—you making love to me behind Miss Raina’s back, and she doing the same +behind yours. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>recoiling a step</i>). Louka! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +It shews how little you really care! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>dropping his familiarity and speaking with freezing politeness</i>). If our +conversation is to continue, Louka, you will please remember that a gentleman +does not discuss the conduct of the lady he is engaged to with her maid. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +It’s so hard to know what a gentleman considers right. I thought from your +trying to kiss me that you had given up being so particular. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>turning from her and striking his forehead as he comes back into the garden +from the gateway</i>). Devil! devil! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Ha! ha! I expect one of the six of you is very like me, sir, though I am only +Miss Raina’s maid. (<i>She goes back to her work at the table, taking no +further notice of him.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>speaking to himself</i>). Which of the six is the real man?—that’s the +question that torments me. One of them is a hero, another a buffoon, another a +humbug, another perhaps a bit of a blackguard. (<i>He pauses and looks +furtively at Louka, as he adds with deep bitterness</i>) And one, at least, is +a coward—jealous, like all cowards. (<i>He goes to the table.</i>) Louka. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Yes? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Who is my rival? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +You shall never get that out of me, for love or money. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Why? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Never mind why. Besides, you would tell that I told you; and I should lose my +place. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>holding out his right hand in affirmation</i>). No; on the honor of +a—(<i>He checks himself, and his hand drops nerveless as he concludes, +sardonically</i>)—of a man capable of behaving as I have been behaving for the +last five minutes. Who is he? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +I don’t know. I never saw him. I only heard his voice through the door of her +room. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Damnation! How dare you? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>retreating</i>). Oh, I mean no harm: you’ve no right to take up my words +like that. The mistress knows all about it. And I tell you that if that +gentleman ever comes here again, Miss Raina will marry him, whether he likes it +or not. I know the difference between the sort of manner you and she put on +before one another and the real manner. (<i>Sergius shivers as if she had +stabbed him. Then, setting his face like iron, he strides grimly to her, and +grips her above the elbows with both bands.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Now listen you to me! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>wincing</i>). Not so tight: you’re hurting me! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +That doesn’t matter. You have stained my honor by making me a party to your +eavesdropping. And you have betrayed your mistress— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>writhing</i>). Please— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +That shews that you are an abominable little clod of common clay, with the soul +of a servant. (<i>He lets her go as if she were an unclean thing, and turns +away, dusting his hands of her, to the bench by the wall, where he sits down +with averted head, meditating gloomily.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>whimpering angrily with her hands up her sleeves, feeling her bruised +arms</i>). You know how to hurt with your tongue as well as with your hands. +But I don’t care, now I’ve found out that whatever clay I’m made of, you’re +made of the same. As for her, she’s a liar; and her fine airs are a cheat; and +I’m worth six of her. (<i>She shakes the pain off hardily; tosses her head; and +sets to work to put the things on the tray. He looks doubtfully at her once or +twice. She finishes packing the tray, and laps the cloth over the edges, so as +to carry all out together. As she stoops to lift it, he rises.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Louka! (<i>She stops and looks defiantly at him with the tray in her +hands.</i>) A gentleman has no right to hurt a woman under any circumstances. +(<i>With profound humility, uncovering his head.</i>) I beg your pardon. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +That sort of apology may satisfy a lady. Of what use is it to a servant? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>thus rudely crossed in his chivalry, throws it off with a bitter laugh and +says slightingly</i>). Oh, you wish to be paid for the hurt? (<i>He puts on his +shako, and takes some money from his pocket.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>her eyes filling with tears in spite of herself</i>). No, I want my hurt +made well. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>sobered by her tone</i>). How? +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>She rolls up her left sleeve; clasps her arm with the thumb and fingers of +her right hand; and looks down at the bruise. Then she raises her head and +looks straight at him. Finally, with a superb gesture she presents her arm to +be kissed. Amazed, he looks at her; at the arm; at her again; hesitates; and +then, with shuddering intensity, exclaims</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Never! (<i>and gets away as far as possible from her.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Her arm drops. Without a word, and with unaffected dignity, she takes her +tray, and is approaching the house when Raina returns wearing a hat and jacket +in the height of the Vienna fashion of the previous year, 1885. Louka makes way +proudly for her, and then goes into the house.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +I’m ready! What’s the matter? (<i>Gaily.</i>) Have you been flirting with +Louka? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>hastily</i>). No, no. How can you think such a thing? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>ashamed of herself</i>). Forgive me, dear: it was only a jest. I am so +happy to-day. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>He goes quickly to her, and kisses her hand remorsefully. Catherine comes +out and calls to them from the top of the steps.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>coming down to them</i>). I am sorry to disturb you, children; but Paul is +distracted over those three regiments. He does not know how to get them to +Phillipopolis; and he objects to every suggestion of mine. You must go and help +him, Sergius. He is in the library. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>disappointed</i>). But we are just going out for a walk. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +I shall not be long. Wait for me just five minutes. (<i>He runs up the steps to +the door.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>following him to the foot of the steps and looking up at him with timid +coquetry</i>). I shall go round and wait in full view of the library windows. +Be sure you draw father’s attention to me. If you are a moment longer than five +minutes, I shall go in and fetch you, regiments or no regiments. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>laughing</i>). Very well. (<i>He goes in. Raina watches him until he is out +of her sight. Then, with a perceptible relaxation of manner, she begins to pace +up and down about the garden in a brown study.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Imagine their meeting that Swiss and hearing the whole story! The very first +thing your father asked for was the old coat we sent him off in. A nice mess +you have got us into! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>gazing thoughtfully at the gravel as she walks</i>). The little beast! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Little beast! What little beast? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +To go and tell! Oh, if I had him here, I’d stuff him with chocolate creams till +he couldn’t ever speak again! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Don’t talk nonsense. Tell me the truth, Raina. How long was he in your room +before you came to me? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>whisking round and recommencing her march in the opposite direction</i>). +Oh, I forget. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +You cannot forget! Did he really climb up after the soldiers were gone, or was +he there when that officer searched the room? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +No. Yes, I think he must have been there then. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +You think! Oh, Raina, Raina! Will anything ever make you straightforward? If +Sergius finds out, it is all over between you. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>with cool impertinence</i>). Oh, I know Sergius is your pet. I sometimes +wish you could marry him instead of me. You would just suit him. You would pet +him, and spoil him, and mother him to perfection. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>opening her eyes very widely indeed</i>). Well, upon my word! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>capriciously—half to herself</i>). I always feel a longing to do or say +something dreadful to him—to shock his propriety—to scandalize the five senses +out of him! (<i>To Catherine perversely.</i>) I don’t care whether he finds out +about the chocolate cream soldier or not. I half hope he may. (<i>She again +turns flippantly away and strolls up the path to the corner of the house.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +And what should I be able to say to your father, pray? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>over her shoulder, from the top of the two steps</i>). Oh, poor father! As +if he could help himself! (<i>She turns the corner and passes out of +sight.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>looking after her, her fingers itching</i>). Oh, if you were only ten years +younger! (<i>Louka comes from the house with a salver, which she carries +hanging down by her side.</i>) Well? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +There’s a gentleman just called, madam—a Servian officer— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>flaming</i>). A Servian! How dare he—(<i>Checking herself bitterly.</i>) +Oh, I forgot. We are at peace now. I suppose we shall have them calling every +day to pay their compliments. Well, if he is an officer why don’t you tell your +master? He is in the library with Major Saranoff. Why do you come to me? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +But he asks for you, madam. And I don’t think he knows who you are: he said the +lady of the house. He gave me this little ticket for you. (<i>She takes a card +out of her bosom; puts it on the salver and offers it to Catherine.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>reading</i>). “Captain Bluntschli!” That’s a German name. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Swiss, madam, I think. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>with a bound that makes Louka jump back</i>). Swiss! What is he like? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>timidly</i>). He has a big carpet bag, madam. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Oh, Heavens, he’s come to return the coat! Send him away—say we’re not at +home—ask him to leave his address and I’ll write to him—Oh, stop: that will +never do. Wait! (<i>She throws herself into a chair to think it out. Louka +waits.</i>) The master and Major Saranoff are busy in the library, aren’t they? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Yes, madam. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>decisively</i>). Bring the gentleman out here at once. +(<i>Imperatively.</i>) And be very polite to him. Don’t delay. Here +(<i>impatiently snatching the salver from her</i>): leave that here; and go +straight back to him. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Yes, madam. (<i>Going.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Louka! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>stopping</i>). Yes, madam. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Is the library door shut? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +I think so, madam. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +If not, shut it as you pass through. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Yes, madam. (<i>Going.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Stop! (<i>Louka stops.</i>) He will have to go out that way (<i>indicating the +gate of the stable yard</i>). Tell Nicola to bring his bag here after him. +Don’t forget. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>surprised</i>). His bag? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Yes, here, as soon as possible. (<i>Vehemently.</i>) Be quick! (<i>Louka runs +into the house. Catherine snatches her apron off and throws it behind a bush. +She then takes up the salver and uses it as a mirror, with the result that the +handkerchief tied round her head follows the apron. A touch to her hair and a +shake to her dressing gown makes her presentable.</i>) Oh, how—how—how can a +man be such a fool! Such a moment to select! (<i>Louka appears at the door of +the house, announcing “Captain Bluntschli;” and standing aside at the top of +the steps to let him pass before she goes in again. He is the man of the +adventure in Raina’s room. He is now clean, well brushed, smartly uniformed, +and out of trouble, but still unmistakably the same man. The moment Louka’s +back is turned, Catherine swoops on him with hurried, urgent, coaxing +appeal.</i>) Captain Bluntschli, I am very glad to see you; but you must leave +this house at once. (<i>He raises his eyebrows.</i>) My husband has just +returned, with my future son-in-law; and they know nothing. If they did, the +consequences would be terrible. You are a foreigner: you do not feel our +national animosities as we do. We still hate the Servians: the only effect of +the peace on my husband is to make him feel like a lion baulked of his prey. If +he discovered our secret, he would never forgive me; and my daughter’s life +would hardly be safe. Will you, like the chivalrous gentleman and soldier you +are, leave at once before he finds you here? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>disappointed, but philosophical</i>). At once, gracious lady. I only came +to thank you and return the coat you lent me. If you will allow me to take it +out of my bag and leave it with your servant as I pass out, I need detain you +no further. (<i>He turns to go into the house.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>catching him by the sleeve</i>). Oh, you must not think of going back that +way. (<i>Coaxing him across to the stable gates.</i>) This is the shortest way +out. Many thanks. So glad to have been of service to you. Good-bye. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +But my bag? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +It will be sent on. You will leave me your address. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +True. Allow me. (<i>He takes out his card-case, and stops to write his address, +keeping Catherine in an agony of impatience. As he hands her the card, Petkoff, +hatless, rushes from the house in a fluster of hospitality, followed by +Sergius.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>as he hurries down the steps</i>). My dear Captain Bluntschli— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Oh Heavens! (<i>She sinks on the seat against the wall.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>too preoccupied to notice her as he shakes Bluntschli’s hand heartily</i>). +Those stupid people of mine thought I was out here, instead of in +the—haw!—library. (<i>He cannot mention the library without betraying how proud +he is of it.</i>) I saw you through the window. I was wondering why you didn’t +come in. Saranoff is with me: you remember him, don’t you? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>saluting humorously, and then offering his hand with great charm of +manner</i>). Welcome, our friend the enemy! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +No longer the enemy, happily. (<i>Rather anxiously.</i>) I hope you’ve come as +a friend, and not on business. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Oh, quite as a friend, Paul. I was just asking Captain Bluntschli to stay to +lunch; but he declares he must go at once. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>sardonically</i>). Impossible, Bluntschli. We want you here badly. We have +to send on three cavalry regiments to Phillipopolis; and we don’t in the least +know how to do it. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>suddenly attentive and business-like</i>). Phillipopolis! The forage is the +trouble, eh? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>eagerly</i>). Yes, that’s it. (<i>To Sergius.</i>) He sees the whole thing +at once. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +I think I can shew you how to manage that. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Invaluable man! Come along! (<i>Towering over Bluntschli, he puts his hand on +his shoulder and takes him to the steps, Petkoff following. As Bluntschli puts +his foot on the first step, Raina comes out of the house.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>completely losing her presence of mind</i>). Oh, the chocolate cream +soldier! +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Bluntschli stands rigid. Sergius, amazed, looks at Raina, then at Petkoff, +who looks back at him and then at his wife.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>with commanding presence of mind</i>). My dear Raina, don’t you see that we +have a guest here—Captain Bluntschli, one of our new Servian friends? +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Raina bows; Bluntschli bows.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +How silly of me! (<i>She comes down into the centre of the group, between +Bluntschli and Petkoff</i>) I made a beautiful ornament this morning for the +ice pudding; and that stupid Nicola has just put down a pile of plates on it +and spoiled it. (<i>To Bluntschli, winningly.</i>) I hope you didn’t think that +you were the chocolate cream soldier, Captain Bluntschli. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>laughing</i>). I assure you I did. (<i>Stealing a whimsical glance at +her.</i>) Your explanation was a relief. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>suspiciously, to Raina</i>). And since when, pray, have you taken to +cooking? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Oh, whilst you were away. It is her latest fancy. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>testily</i>). And has Nicola taken to drinking? He used to be careful +enough. First he shews Captain Bluntschli out here when he knew quite well I +was in the—hum!—library; and then he goes downstairs and breaks Raina’s +chocolate soldier. He must—(<i>At this moment Nicola appears at the top of the +steps R., with a carpet bag. He descends; places it respectfully before +Bluntschli; and waits for further orders. General amazement. Nicola, +unconscious of the effect he is producing, looks perfectly satisfied with +himself. When Petkoff recovers his power of speech, he breaks out at him +with</i>) Are you mad, Nicola? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>taken aback</i>). Sir? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +What have you brought that for? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +My lady’s orders, sir. Louka told me that— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>interrupting him</i>). My orders! Why should I order you to bring Captain +Bluntschli’s luggage out here? What are you thinking of, Nicola? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>after a moment’s bewilderment, picking up the bag as he addresses +Bluntschli with the very perfection of servile discretion</i>). I beg your +pardon, sir, I am sure. (<i>To Catherine.</i>) My fault, madam! I hope you’ll +overlook it! (<i>He bows, and is going to the steps with the bag, when Petkoff +addresses him angrily.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +You’d better go and slam that bag, too, down on Miss Raina’s ice pudding! +(<i>This is too much for Nicola. The bag drops from his hands on Petkoff’s +corns, eliciting a roar of anguish from him.</i>) Begone, you butter-fingered +donkey. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>snatching up the bag, and escaping into the house</i>). Yes, sir. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Oh, never mind, Paul, don’t be angry! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>muttering</i>). Scoundrel. He’s got out of hand while I was away. I’ll +teach him. (<i>Recollecting his guest.</i>) Oh, well, never mind. Come, +Bluntschli, lets have no more nonsense about you having to go away. You know +very well you’re not going back to Switzerland yet. Until you do go back you’ll +stay with us. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Oh, do, Captain Bluntschli. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>to Catherine</i>). Now, Catherine, it’s of you that he’s afraid. Press him +and he’ll stay. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Of course I shall be only too delighted if (<i>appealingly</i>) Captain +Bluntschli really wishes to stay. He knows my wishes. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>in his driest military manner</i>). I am at madame’s orders. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>cordially</i>). That settles it! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>heartily</i>). Of course! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +You see, you must stay! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>smiling</i>). Well, If I must, I must! (<i>Gesture of despair from +Catherine.</i>) +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a>ACT III</h2> + +<p class="stage"> +In the library after lunch. It is not much of a library, its literary equipment +consisting of a single fixed shelf stocked with old paper-covered novels, +broken backed, coffee stained, torn and thumbed, and a couple of little hanging +shelves with a few gift books on them, the rest of the wall space being +occupied by trophies of war and the chase. But it is a most comfortable +sitting-room. A row of three large windows in the front of the house shew a +mountain panorama, which is just now seen in one of its softest aspects in the +mellowing afternoon light. In the left hand corner, a square earthenware stove, +a perfect tower of colored pottery, rises nearly to the ceiling and guarantees +plenty of warmth. The ottoman in the middle is a circular bank of decorated +cushions, and the window seats are well upholstered divans. Little Turkish +tables, one of them with an elaborate hookah on it, and a screen to match them, +complete the handsome effect of the furnishing. There is one object, however, +which is hopelessly out of keeping with its surroundings. This is a small +kitchen table, much the worse for wear, fitted as a writing table with an old +canister full of pens, an eggcup filled with ink, and a deplorable scrap of +severely used pink blotting paper. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +At the side of this table, which stands on the right, Bluntschli is hard at +work, with a couple of maps before him, writing orders. At the head of it sits +Sergius, who is also supposed to be at work, but who is actually gnawing the +feather of a pen, and contemplating Bluntschli’s quick, sure, businesslike +progress with a mixture of envious irritation at his own incapacity, and +awestruck wonder at an ability which seems to him almost miraculous, though its +prosaic character forbids him to esteem it. The major is comfortably +established on the ottoman, with a newspaper in his hand and the tube of the +hookah within his reach. Catherine sits at the stove, with her back to them, +embroidering. Raina, reclining on the divan under the left hand window, is +gazing in a daydream out at the Balkan landscape, with a neglected novel in her +lap. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +The door is on the left. The button of the electric bell is between the door +and the fireplace. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>looking up from his paper to watch how they are getting on at the +table</i>). Are you sure I can’t help you in any way, Bluntschli? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>without interrupting his writing or looking up</i>). Quite sure, thank you. +Saranoff and I will manage it. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>grimly</i>). Yes: we’ll manage it. He finds out what to do; draws up the +orders; and I sign ’em. Division of labour, Major. (<i>Bluntschli passes him a +paper.</i>) Another one? Thank you. (<i>He plants the papers squarely before +him; sets his chair carefully parallel to them; and signs with the air of a man +resolutely performing a difficult and dangerous feat.</i>) This hand is more +accustomed to the sword than to the pen. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +It’s very good of you, Bluntschli, it is indeed, to let yourself be put upon in +this way. Now are you quite sure I can do nothing? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>in a low, warning tone</i>). You can stop interrupting, Paul. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>starting and looking round at her</i>). Eh? Oh! Quite right, my love, quite +right. (<i>He takes his newspaper up, but lets it drop again.</i>) Ah, you +haven’t been campaigning, Catherine: you don’t know how pleasant it is for us +to sit here, after a good lunch, with nothing to do but enjoy ourselves. +There’s only one thing I want to make me thoroughly comfortable. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +What is that? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +My old coat. I’m not at home in this one: I feel as if I were on parade. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +My dear Paul, how absurd you are about that old coat! It must be hanging in the +blue closet where you left it. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +My dear Catherine, I tell you I’ve looked there. Am I to believe my own eyes or +not? (<i>Catherine quietly rises and presses the button of the electric bell by +the fireplace.</i>) What are you shewing off that bell for? (<i>She looks at +him majestically, and silently resumes her chair and her needlework.</i>) My +dear: if you think the obstinacy of your sex can make a coat out of two old +dressing gowns of Raina’s, your waterproof, and my mackintosh, you’re mistaken. +That’s exactly what the blue closet contains at present. (<i>Nicola presents +himself.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>unmoved by Petkoff’s sally</i>). Nicola: go to the blue closet and bring +your master’s old coat here—the braided one he usually wears in the house. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +Yes, madam. (<i>Nicola goes out.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Catherine. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Yes, Paul? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +I bet you any piece of jewellery you like to order from Sofia against a week’s +housekeeping money, that the coat isn’t there. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Done, Paul. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>excited by the prospect of a gamble</i>). Come: here’s an opportunity for +some sport. Who’ll bet on it? Bluntschli: I’ll give you six to one. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>imperturbably</i>). It would be robbing you, Major. Madame is sure to be +right. (<i>Without looking up, he passes another batch of papers to +Sergius.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>also excited</i>). Bravo, Switzerland! Major: I bet my best charger against +an Arab mare for Raina that Nicola finds the coat in the blue closet. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>eagerly</i>). Your best char— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>hastily interrupting him</i>). Don’t be foolish, Paul. An Arabian mare will +cost you 50,000 levas. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>suddenly coming out of her picturesque revery</i>). Really, mother, if you +are going to take the jewellery, I don’t see why you should grudge me my Arab. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Nicola comes back with the coat and brings it to Petkoff, who can hardly +believe his eyes.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Where was it, Nicola? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +Hanging in the blue closet, madam. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Well, I am d— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>stopping him</i>). Paul! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +I could have sworn it wasn’t there. Age is beginning to tell on me. I’m getting +hallucinations. (<i>To Nicola.</i>) Here: help me to change. Excuse me, +Bluntschli. (<i>He begins changing coats, Nicola acting as valet.</i>) +Remember: I didn’t take that bet of yours, Sergius. You’d better give Raina +that Arab steed yourself, since you’ve roused her expectations. Eh, Raina? +(<i>He looks round at her; but she is again rapt in the landscape. With a +little gush of paternal affection and pride, he points her out to them and +says</i>) She’s dreaming, as usual. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Assuredly she shall not be the loser. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +So much the better for her. I shan’t come off so cheap, I expect. (<i>The +change is now complete. Nicola goes out with the discarded coat.</i>) Ah, now I +feel at home at last. (<i>He sits down and takes his newspaper with a grunt of +relief.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>to Sergius, handing a paper</i>). That’s the last order. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>jumping up</i>). What! finished? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Finished. (<i>Petkoff goes beside Sergius; looks curiously over his left +shoulder as he signs; and says with childlike envy</i>) Haven’t you anything +for me to sign? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Not necessary. His signature will do. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Ah, well, I think we’ve done a thundering good day’s work. (<i>He goes away +from the table.</i>) Can I do anything more? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +You had better both see the fellows that are to take these. (<i>To +Sergius.</i>) Pack them off at once; and shew them that I’ve marked on the +orders the time they should hand them in by. Tell them that if they stop to +drink or tell stories—if they’re five minutes late, they’ll have the skin taken +off their backs. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>rising indignantly</i>). I’ll say so. And if one of them is man enough to +spit in my face for insulting him, I’ll buy his discharge and give him a +pension. (<i>He strides out, his humanity deeply outraged.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>confidentially</i>). Just see that he talks to them properly, Major, will +you? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>officiously</i>). Quite right, Bluntschli, quite right. I’ll see to it. +(<i>He goes to the door importantly, but hesitates on the threshold.</i>) By +the bye, Catherine, you may as well come, too. They’ll be far more frightened +of you than of me. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>putting down her embroidery</i>). I daresay I had better. You will only +splutter at them. (<i>She goes out, Petkoff holding the door for her and +following her.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +What a country! They make cannons out of cherry trees; and the officers send +for their wives to keep discipline! (<i>He begins to fold and docket the +papers. Raina, who has risen from the divan, strolls down the room with her +hands clasped behind her, and looks mischievously at him.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +You look ever so much nicer than when we last met. (<i>He looks up, +surprised.</i>) What have you done to yourself? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Washed; brushed; good night’s sleep and breakfast. That’s all. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Did you get back safely that morning? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Quite, thanks. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Were they angry with you for running away from Sergius’s charge? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +No, they were glad; because they’d all just run away themselves. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>going to the table, and leaning over it towards him</i>). It must have made +a lovely story for them—all that about me and my room. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Capital story. But I only told it to one of them—a particular friend. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +On whose discretion you could absolutely rely? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Absolutely. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Hm! He told it all to my father and Sergius the day you exchanged the +prisoners. (<i>She turns away and strolls carelessly across to the other side +of the room.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>deeply concerned and half incredulous</i>). No! you don’t mean that, do +you? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>turning, with sudden earnestness</i>). I do indeed. But they don’t know +that it was in this house that you hid. If Sergius knew, he would challenge you +and kill you in a duel. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Bless me! then don’t tell him. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>full of reproach for his levity</i>). Can you realize what it is to me to +deceive him? I want to be quite perfect with Sergius—no meanness, no smallness, +no deceit. My relation to him is the one really beautiful and noble part of my +life. I hope you can understand that. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>sceptically</i>). You mean that you wouldn’t like him to find out that the +story about the ice pudding was a—a—a—You know. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>wincing</i>). Ah, don’t talk of it in that flippant way. I lied: I know it. +But I did it to save your life. He would have killed you. That was the second +time I ever uttered a falsehood. (<i>Bluntschli rises quickly and looks +doubtfully and somewhat severely at her.</i>) Do you remember the first time? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +I! No. Was I present? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Yes; and I told the officer who was searching for you that you were not +present. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +True. I should have remembered it. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>greatly encouraged</i>). Ah, it is natural that you should forget it first. +It cost you nothing: it cost me a lie!—a lie!! (<i>She sits down on the +ottoman, looking straight before her with her hands clasped on her knee. +Bluntschli, quite touched, goes to the ottoman with a particularly reassuring +and considerate air, and sits down beside her.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +My dear young lady, don’t let this worry you. Remember: I’m a soldier. Now what +are the two things that happen to a soldier so often that he comes to think +nothing of them? One is hearing people tell lies (<i>Raina recoils</i>): the +other is getting his life saved in all sorts of ways by all sorts of people. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>rising in indignant protest</i>). And so he becomes a creature incapable of +faith and of gratitude. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>making a wry face</i>). Do you like gratitude? I don’t. If pity is akin to +love, gratitude is akin to the other thing. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Gratitude! (<i>Turning on him.</i>) If you are incapable of gratitude you are +incapable of any noble sentiment. Even animals are grateful. Oh, I see now +exactly what you think of me! You were not surprised to hear me lie. To you it +was something I probably did every day—every hour. That is how men think of +women. (<i>She walks up the room melodramatically.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>dubiously</i>). There’s reason in everything. You said you’d told only two +lies in your whole life. Dear young lady: isn’t that rather a short allowance? +I’m quite a straightforward man myself; but it wouldn’t last me a whole +morning. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>staring haughtily at him</i>). Do you know, sir, that you are insulting me? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +I can’t help it. When you get into that noble attitude and speak in that +thrilling voice, I admire you; but I find it impossible to believe a single +word you say. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>superbly</i>). Captain Bluntschli! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>unmoved</i>). Yes? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>coming a little towards him, as if she could not believe her senses</i>). +Do you mean what you said just now? Do you know what you said just now? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +I do. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>gasping</i>). I! I!!! (<i>She points to herself incredulously, meaning “I, +Raina Petkoff, tell lies!” He meets her gaze unflinchingly. She suddenly sits +down beside him, and adds, with a complete change of manner from the heroic to +the familiar</i>) How did you find me out? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>promptly</i>). Instinct, dear young lady. Instinct, and experience of the +world. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>wonderingly</i>). Do you know, you are the first man I ever met who did not +take me seriously? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +You mean, don’t you, that I am the first man that has ever taken you quite +seriously? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Yes, I suppose I do mean that. (<i>Cosily, quite at her ease with him.</i>) How +strange it is to be talked to in such a way! You know, I’ve always gone on like +that—I mean the noble attitude and the thrilling voice. I did it when I was a +tiny child to my nurse. She believed in it. I do it before my parents. They +believe in it. I do it before Sergius. He believes in it. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Yes: he’s a little in that line himself, isn’t he? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>startled</i>). Do you think so? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +You know him better than I do. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +I wonder—I wonder is he? If I thought that—! (<i>Discouraged.</i>) Ah, well, +what does it matter? I suppose, now that you’ve found me out, you despise me. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>warmly, rising</i>). No, my dear young lady, no, no, no a thousand times. +It’s part of your youth—part of your charm. I’m like all the rest of them—the +nurse—your parents—Sergius: I’m your infatuated admirer. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>pleased</i>). Really? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>slapping his breast smartly with his hand, German fashion</i>). Hand aufs +Herz! Really and truly. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>very happy</i>). But what did you think of me for giving you my portrait? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>astonished</i>). Your portrait! You never gave me your portrait. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>quickly</i>). Do you mean to say you never got it? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +No. (<i>He sits down beside her, with renewed interest, and says, with some +complacency.</i>) When did you send it to me? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>indignantly</i>). I did not send it to you. (<i>She turns her head away, +and adds, reluctantly.</i>) It was in the pocket of that coat. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>pursing his lips and rounding his eyes</i>). Oh-o-oh! I never found it. It +must be there still. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>springing up</i>). There still!—for my father to find the first time he +puts his hand in his pocket! Oh, how could you be so stupid? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>rising also</i>). It doesn’t matter: it’s only a photograph: how can he +tell who it was intended for? Tell him he put it there himself. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>impatiently</i>). Yes, that is so clever—so clever! What shall I do? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Ah, I see. You wrote something on it. That was rash! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>annoyed almost to tears</i>). Oh, to have done such a thing for you, who +care no more—except to laugh at me—oh! Are you sure nobody has touched it? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Well, I can’t be quite sure. You see I couldn’t carry it about with me all the +time: one can’t take much luggage on active service. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +What did you do with it? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +When I got through to Peerot I had to put it in safe keeping somehow. I thought +of the railway cloak room; but that’s the surest place to get looted in modern +warfare. So I pawned it. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Pawned it!!! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +I know it doesn’t sound nice; but it was much the safest plan. I redeemed it +the day before yesterday. Heaven only knows whether the pawnbroker cleared out +the pockets or not. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>furious—throwing the words right into his face</i>). You have a low, +shopkeeping mind. You think of things that would never come into a gentleman’s +head. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>phlegmatically</i>). That’s the Swiss national character, dear lady. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Oh, I wish I had never met you. (<i>She flounces away and sits at the window +fuming.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Louka comes in with a heap of letters and telegrams on her salver, and +crosses, with her bold, free gait, to the table. Her left sleeve is looped up +to the shoulder with a brooch, shewing her naked arm, with a broad gilt +bracelet covering the bruise.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>to Bluntschli</i>). For you. (<i>She empties the salver recklessly on the +table.</i>) The messenger is waiting. (<i>She is determined not to be civil to +a Servian, even if she must bring him his letters.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>to Raina</i>). Will you excuse me: the last postal delivery that reached me +was three weeks ago. These are the subsequent accumulations. Four telegrams—a +week old. (<i>He opens one.</i>) Oho! Bad news! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>rising and advancing a little remorsefully</i>). Bad news? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +My father’s dead. (<i>He looks at the telegram with his lips pursed, musing on +the unexpected change in his arrangements.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Oh, how very sad! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Yes: I shall have to start for home in an hour. He has left a lot of big hotels +behind him to be looked after. (<i>Takes up a heavy letter in a long blue +envelope.</i>) Here’s a whacking letter from the family solicitor. (<i>He pulls +out the enclosures and glances over them.</i>) Great Heavens! Seventy! Two +hundred! (<i>In a crescendo of dismay.</i>) Four hundred! Four thousand!! Nine +thousand six hundred!!! What on earth shall I do with them all? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>timidly</i>). Nine thousand hotels? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Hotels! Nonsense. If you only knew!—oh, it’s too ridiculous! Excuse me: I must +give my fellow orders about starting. (<i>He leaves the room hastily, with the +documents in his hand.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>tauntingly</i>). He has not much heart, that Swiss, though he is so fond of +the Servians. He has not a word of grief for his poor father. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>bitterly</i>). Grief!—a man who has been doing nothing but killing people +for years! What does he care? What does any soldier care? (<i>She goes to the +door, evidently restraining her tears with difficulty.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Major Saranoff has been fighting, too; and he has plenty of heart left. +(<i>Raina, at the door, looks haughtily at her and goes out.</i>) Aha! I +thought you wouldn’t get much feeling out of your soldier. (<i>She is following +Raina when Nicola enters with an armful of logs for the fire.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>grinning amorously at her</i>). I’ve been trying all the afternoon to get a +minute alone with you, my girl. (<i>His countenance changes as he notices her +arm.</i>) Why, what fashion is that of wearing your sleeve, child? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>proudly</i>). My own fashion. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +Indeed! If the mistress catches you, she’ll talk to you. (<i>He throws the logs +down on the ottoman, and sits comfortably beside them.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Is that any reason why you should take it on yourself to talk to me? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +Come: don’t be so contrary with me. I’ve some good news for you. (<i>He takes +out some paper money. Louka, with an eager gleam in her eyes, comes close to +look at it.</i>) See, a twenty leva bill! Sergius gave me that out of pure +swagger. A fool and his money are soon parted. There’s ten levas more. The +Swiss gave me that for backing up the mistress’s and Raina’s lies about him. +He’s no fool, he isn’t. You should have heard old Catherine downstairs as +polite as you please to me, telling me not to mind the Major being a little +impatient; for they knew what a good servant I was—after making a fool and a +liar of me before them all! The twenty will go to our savings; and you shall +have the ten to spend if you’ll only talk to me so as to remind me I’m a human +being. I get tired of being a servant occasionally. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>scornfully</i>). Yes: sell your manhood for thirty levas, and buy me for +ten! Keep your money. You were born to be a servant. I was not. When you set up +your shop you will only be everybody’s servant instead of somebody’s servant. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>picking up his logs, and going to the stove</i>). Ah, wait till you see. We +shall have our evenings to ourselves; and I shall be master in my own house, I +promise you. (<i>He throws the logs down and kneels at the stove.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +You shall never be master in mine. (<i>She sits down on Sergius’s chair.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>turning, still on his knees, and squatting down rather forlornly, on his +calves, daunted by her implacable disdain</i>). You have a great ambition in +you, Louka. Remember: if any luck comes to you, it was I that made a woman of +you. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +You! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>with dogged self-assertion</i>). Yes, me. Who was it made you give up +wearing a couple of pounds of false black hair on your head and reddening your +lips and cheeks like any other Bulgarian girl? I did. Who taught you to trim +your nails, and keep your hands clean, and be dainty about yourself, like a +fine Russian lady? Me! do you hear that? me! (<i>She tosses her head defiantly; +and he rises, ill-humoredly, adding more coolly</i>) I’ve often thought that if +Raina were out of the way, and you just a little less of a fool and Sergius +just a little more of one, you might come to be one of my grandest customers, +instead of only being my wife and costing me money. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +I believe you would rather be my servant than my husband. You would make more +out of me. Oh, I know that soul of yours. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>going up close to her for greater emphasis</i>). Never you mind my soul; +but just listen to my advice. If you want to be a lady, your present behaviour +to me won’t do at all, unless when we’re alone. It’s too sharp and impudent; +and impudence is a sort of familiarity: it shews affection for me. And don’t +you try being high and mighty with me either. You’re like all country girls: +you think it’s genteel to treat a servant the way I treat a stable-boy. That’s +only your ignorance; and don’t you forget it. And don’t be so ready to defy +everybody. Act as if you expected to have your own way, not as if you expected +to be ordered about. The way to get on as a lady is the same as the way to get +on as a servant: you’ve got to know your place; that’s the secret of it. And +you may depend on me to know my place if you get promoted. Think over it, my +girl. I’ll stand by you: one servant should always stand by another. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>rising impatiently</i>). Oh, I must behave in my own way. You take all the +courage out of me with your cold-blooded wisdom. Go and put those logs on the +fire: that’s the sort of thing you understand. (<i>Before Nicola can retort, +Sergius comes in. He checks himself a moment on seeing Louka; then goes to the +stove.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>to Nicola</i>). I am not in the way of your work, I hope. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>in a smooth, elderly manner</i>). Oh, no, sir, thank you kindly. I was only +speaking to this foolish girl about her habit of running up here to the library +whenever she gets a chance, to look at the books. That’s the worst of her +education, sir: it gives her habits above her station. (<i>To Louka.</i>) Make +that table tidy, Louka, for the Major. (<i>He goes out sedately.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Louka, without looking at Sergius, begins to arrange the papers on the +table. He crosses slowly to her, and studies the arrangement of her sleeve +reflectively.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Let me see: is there a mark there? (<i>He turns up the bracelet and sees the +bruise made by his grasp. She stands motionless, not looking at him: +fascinated, but on her guard.</i>) Ffff! Does it hurt? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Yes. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Shall I cure it? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>instantly withdrawing herself proudly, but still not looking at him</i>). +No. You cannot cure it now. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>masterfully</i>). Quite sure? (<i>He makes a movement as if to take her in +his arms.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Don’t trifle with me, please. An officer should not trifle with a servant. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>touching the arm with a merciless stroke of his forefinger</i>). That was +no trifle, Louka. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +No. (<i>Looking at him for the first time.</i>) Are you sorry? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>with measured emphasis, folding his arms</i>). I am never sorry. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>wistfully</i>). I wish I could believe a man could be so unlike a woman as +that. I wonder are you really a brave man? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>unaffectedly, relaxing his attitude</i>). Yes: I am a brave man. My heart +jumped like a woman’s at the first shot; but in the charge I found that I was +brave. Yes: that at least is real about me. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Did you find in the charge that the men whose fathers are poor like mine were +any less brave than the men who are rich like you? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>with bitter levity.</i>) Not a bit. They all slashed and cursed and yelled +like heroes. Psha! the courage to rage and kill is cheap. I have an English +bull terrier who has as much of that sort of courage as the whole Bulgarian +nation, and the whole Russian nation at its back. But he lets my groom thrash +him, all the same. That’s your soldier all over! No, Louka, your poor men can +cut throats; but they are afraid of their officers; they put up with insults +and blows; they stand by and see one another punished like children—-aye, and +help to do it when they are ordered. And the officers!—-well (<i>with a short, +bitter laugh</i>) I am an officer. Oh, (<i>fervently</i>) give me the man who +will defy to the death any power on earth or in heaven that sets itself up +against his own will and conscience: he alone is the brave man. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +How easy it is to talk! Men never seem to me to grow up: they all have +schoolboy’s ideas. You don’t know what true courage is. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>ironically</i>). Indeed! I am willing to be instructed. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Look at me! how much am I allowed to have my own will? I have to get your room +ready for you—to sweep and dust, to fetch and carry. How could that degrade me +if it did not degrade you to have it done for you? But (<i>with subdued +passion</i>) if I were Empress of Russia, above everyone in the world, then—ah, +then, though according to you I could shew no courage at all; you should see, +you should see. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +What would you do, most noble Empress? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +I would marry the man I loved, which no other queen in Europe has the courage +to do. If I loved you, though you would be as far beneath me as I am beneath +you, I would dare to be the equal of my inferior. Would you dare as much if you +loved me? No: if you felt the beginnings of love for me you would not let it +grow. You dare not: you would marry a rich man’s daughter because you would be +afraid of what other people would say of you. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>carried away</i>). You lie: it is not so, by all the stars! If I loved you, +and I were the Czar himself, I would set you on the throne by my side. You know +that I love another woman, a woman as high above you as heaven is above earth. +And you are jealous of her. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +I have no reason to be. She will never marry you now. The man I told you of has +come back. She will marry the Swiss. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>recoiling</i>). The Swiss! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +A man worth ten of you. Then you can come to me; and I will refuse you. You are +not good enough for me. (<i>She turns to the door.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>springing after her and catching her fiercely in his arms</i>). I will kill +the Swiss; and afterwards I will do as I please with you. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>in his arms, passive and steadfast</i>). The Swiss will kill you, perhaps. +He has beaten you in love. He may beat you in war. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>tormentedly</i>). Do you think I believe that she—she! whose worst thoughts +are higher than your best ones, is capable of trifling with another man behind +my back? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Do you think she would believe the Swiss if he told her now that I am in your +arms? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>releasing her in despair</i>). Damnation! Oh, damnation! Mockery, mockery +everywhere: everything I think is mocked by everything I do. (<i>He strikes +himself frantically on the breast.</i>) Coward, liar, fool! Shall I kill myself +like a man, or live and pretend to laugh at myself? (<i>She again turns to +go.</i>) Louka! (<i>She stops near the door.</i>) Remember: you belong to me. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>quietly</i>). What does that mean—an insult? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>commandingly</i>). It means that you love me, and that I have had you here +in my arms, and will perhaps have you there again. Whether that is an insult I +neither know nor care: take it as you please. But (<i>vehemently</i>) I will +not be a coward and a trifler. If I choose to love you, I dare marry you, in +spite of all Bulgaria. If these hands ever touch you again, they shall touch my +affianced bride. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +We shall see whether you dare keep your word. But take care. I will not wait +long. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>again folding his arms and standing motionless in the middle of the +room</i>). Yes, we shall see. And you shall wait my pleasure. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Bluntschli, much preoccupied, with his papers still in his hand, enters, +leaving the door open for Louka to go out. He goes across to the table, +glancing at her as he passes. Sergius, without altering his resolute attitude, +watches him steadily. Louka goes out, leaving the door open.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>absently, sitting at the table as before, and putting down his papers</i>). +That’s a remarkable looking young woman. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>gravely, without moving</i>). Captain Bluntschli. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Eh? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +You have deceived me. You are my rival. I brook no rivals. At six o’clock I +shall be in the drilling-ground on the Klissoura road, alone, on horseback, +with my sabre. Do you understand? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>staring, but sitting quite at his ease</i>). Oh, thank you: that’s a +cavalry man’s proposal. I’m in the artillery; and I have the choice of weapons. +If I go, I shall take a machine gun. And there shall be no mistake about the +cartridges this time. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>flushing, but with deadly coldness</i>). Take care, sir. It is not our +custom in Bulgaria to allow invitations of that kind to be trifled with. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>warmly</i>). Pooh! don’t talk to me about Bulgaria. You don’t know what +fighting is. But have it your own way. Bring your sabre along. I’ll meet you. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>fiercely delighted to find his opponent a man of spirit</i>). Well said, +Switzer. Shall I lend you my best horse? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +No: damn your horse!—-thank you all the same, my dear fellow. (<i>Raina comes +in, and hears the next sentence.</i>) I shall fight you on foot. Horseback’s +too dangerous: I don’t want to kill you if I can help it. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>hurrying forward anxiously</i>). I have heard what Captain Bluntschli said, +Sergius. You are going to fight. Why? (<i>Sergius turns away in silence, and +goes to the stove, where he stands watching her as she continues, to +Bluntschli</i>) What about? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +I don’t know: he hasn’t told me. Better not interfere, dear young lady. No harm +will be done: I’ve often acted as sword instructor. He won’t be able to touch +me; and I’ll not hurt him. It will save explanations. In the morning I shall be +off home; and you’ll never see me or hear of me again. You and he will then +make it up and live happily ever after. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>turning away deeply hurt, almost with a sob in her voice</i>). I never said +I wanted to see you again. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>striding forward</i>). Ha! That is a confession. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>haughtily</i>). What do you mean? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +You love that man! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>scandalized</i>). Sergius! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +You allow him to make love to you behind my back, just as you accept me as your +affianced husband behind his. Bluntschli: you knew our relations; and you +deceived me. It is for that that I call you to account, not for having received +favours that I never enjoyed. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>jumping up indignantly</i>). Stuff! Rubbish! I have received no favours. +Why, the young lady doesn’t even know whether I’m married or not. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>forgetting herself</i>). Oh! (<i>Collapsing on the ottoman.</i>) Are you? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +You see the young lady’s concern, Captain Bluntschli. Denial is useless. You +have enjoyed the privilege of being received in her own room, late at night— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>interrupting him pepperily</i>). Yes; you blockhead! She received me with a +pistol at her head. Your cavalry were at my heels. I’d have blown out her +brains if she’d uttered a cry. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>taken aback</i>). Bluntschli! Raina: is this true? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>rising in wrathful majesty</i>). Oh, how dare you, how dare you? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Apologize, man, apologize! (<i>He resumes his seat at the table.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>with the old measured emphasis, folding his arms</i>). I never apologize. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>passionately</i>). This is the doing of that friend of yours, Captain +Bluntschli. It is he who is spreading this horrible story about me. (<i>She +walks about excitedly.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +No: he’s dead—burnt alive. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>stopping, shocked</i>). Burnt alive! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Shot in the hip in a wood yard. Couldn’t drag himself out. Your fellows’ shells +set the timber on fire and burnt him, with half a dozen other poor devils in +the same predicament. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +How horrible! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +And how ridiculous! Oh, war! war! the dream of patriots and heroes! A fraud, +Bluntschli, a hollow sham, like love. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>outraged</i>). Like love! You say that before me. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Come, Saranoff: that matter is explained. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +A hollow sham, I say. Would you have come back here if nothing had passed +between you, except at the muzzle of your pistol? Raina is mistaken about our +friend who was burnt. He was not my informant. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Who then? (<i>Suddenly guessing the truth.</i>) Ah, Louka! my maid, my servant! +You were with her this morning all that time after—-after—-Oh, what sort of god +is this I have been worshipping! (<i>He meets her gaze with sardonic enjoyment +of her disenchantment. Angered all the more, she goes closer to him, and says, +in a lower, intenser tone</i>) Do you know that I looked out of the window as I +went upstairs, to have another sight of my hero; and I saw something that I did +not understand then. I know now that you were making love to her. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>with grim humor</i>). You saw that? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Only too well. (<i>She turns away, and throws herself on the divan under the +centre window, quite overcome.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>cynically</i>). Raina: our romance is shattered. Life’s a farce. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>to Raina, goodhumoredly</i>). You see: he’s found himself out now. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Bluntschli: I have allowed you to call me a blockhead. You may now call me a +coward as well. I refuse to fight you. Do you know why? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +No; but it doesn’t matter. I didn’t ask the reason when you cried on; and I +don’t ask the reason now that you cry off. I’m a professional soldier. I fight +when I have to, and am very glad to get out of it when I haven’t to. You’re +only an amateur: you think fighting’s an amusement. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +You shall hear the reason all the same, my professional. The reason is that it +takes two men—real men—men of heart, blood and honor—to make a genuine combat. +I could no more fight with you than I could make love to an ugly woman. You’ve +no magnetism: you’re not a man, you’re a machine. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>apologetically</i>). Quite true, quite true. I always was that sort of +chap. I’m very sorry. But now that you’ve found that life isn’t a farce, but +something quite sensible and serious, what further obstacle is there to your +happiness? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>riling</i>). You are very solicitous about my happiness and his. Do you +forget his new love—Louka? It is not you that he must fight now, but his rival, +Nicola. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Rival!! (<i>Striking his forehead.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Did you not know that they are engaged? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Nicola! Are fresh abysses opening! Nicola!! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>sarcastically</i>). A shocking sacrifice, isn’t it? Such beauty, such +intellect, such modesty, wasted on a middle-aged servant man! Really, Sergius, +you cannot stand by and allow such a thing. It would be unworthy of your +chivalry. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>losing all self-control</i>). Viper! Viper! (<i>He rushes to and fro, +raging.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Look here, Saranoff; you’re getting the worst of this. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>getting angrier</i>). Do you realize what he has done, Captain Bluntschli? +He has set this girl as a spy on us; and her reward is that he makes love to +her. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +False! Monstrous! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Monstrous! (<i>Confronting him.</i>) Do you deny that she told you about +Captain Bluntschli being in my room? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +No; but— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>interrupting</i>). Do you deny that you were making love to her when she +told you? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +No; but I tell you— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>cutting him short contemptuously</i>). It is unnecessary to tell us +anything more. That is quite enough for us. (<i>She turns her back on him and +sweeps majestically back to the window.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>quietly, as Sergius, in an agony of mortification, sinks on the ottoman, +clutching his averted head between his fists</i>). I told you you were getting +the worst of it, Saranoff. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Tiger cat! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>running excitedly to Bluntschli</i>). You hear this man calling me names, +Captain Bluntschli? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +What else can he do, dear lady? He must defend himself somehow. Come (<i>very +persuasively</i>), don’t quarrel. What good does it do? (<i>Raina, with a gasp, +sits down on the ottoman, and after a vain effort to look vexedly at +Bluntschli, she falls a victim to her sense of humor, and is attacked with a +disposition to laugh.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Engaged to Nicola! (<i>He rises.</i>) Ha! ha! (<i>Going to the stove and +standing with his back to it.</i>) Ah, well, Bluntschli, you are right to take +this huge imposture of a world coolly. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>to Bluntschli with an intuitive guess at his state of mind</i>). I daresay +you think us a couple of grown up babies, don’t you? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>grinning a little</i>). He does, he does. Swiss civilization nursetending +Bulgarian barbarism, eh? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>blushing</i>). Not at all, I assure you. I’m only very glad to get you two +quieted. There now, let’s be pleasant and talk it over in a friendly way. Where +is this other young lady? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Listening at the door, probably. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>shivering as if a bullet had struck him, and speaking with quiet but deep +indignation</i>). I will prove that that, at least, is a calumny. (<i>He goes +with dignity to the door and opens it. A yell of fury bursts from him as he +looks out. He darts into the passage, and returns dragging in Louka, whom he +flings against the table, R., as he cries</i>) Judge her, Bluntschli—you, the +moderate, cautious man: judge the eavesdropper. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Louka stands her ground, proud and silent.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>shaking his head</i>). I mustn’t judge her. I once listened myself outside +a tent when there was a mutiny brewing. It’s all a question of the degree of +provocation. My life was at stake. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +My love was at stake. (<i>Sergius flinches, ashamed of her in spite of +himself.</i>) I am not ashamed. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>contemptuously</i>). Your love! Your curiosity, you mean. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>facing her and retorting her contempt with interest</i>). My love, stronger +than anything you can feel, even for your chocolate cream soldier. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>with quick suspicion—to Louka</i>). What does that mean? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>fiercely</i>). It means— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>interrupting her slightingly</i>). Oh, I remember, the ice pudding. A +paltry taunt, girl. +</p> + +<p class="stage"> +(<i>Major Petkoff enters, in his shirtsleeves.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Excuse my shirtsleeves, gentlemen. Raina: somebody has been wearing that coat +of mine: I’ll swear it—somebody with bigger shoulders than mine. It’s all burst +open at the back. Your mother is mending it. I wish she’d make haste. I shall +catch cold. (<i>He looks more attentively at them.</i>) Is anything the matter? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +No. (<i>She sits down at the stove with a tranquil air.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Oh, no! (<i>He sits down at the end of the table, as at first.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>who is already seated</i>). Nothing, nothing. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>sitting down on the ottoman in his old place</i>). That’s all right. (<i>He +notices Louka.</i>) Anything the matter, Louka? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +No, sir. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>genially</i>). That’s all right. (<i>He sneezes.</i>) Go and ask your +mistress for my coat, like a good girl, will you? (<i>She turns to obey; but +Nicola enters with the coat; and she makes a pretence of having business in the +room by taking the little table with the hookah away to the wall near the +windows.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>rising quickly, as she sees the coat on Nicola’s arm</i>). Here it is, +papa. Give it to me, Nicola; and do you put some more wood on the fire. (<i>She +takes the coat, and brings it to the Major, who stands up to put it on. Nicola +attends to the fire.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>to Raina, teasing her affectionately</i>). Aha! Going to be very good to +poor old papa just for one day after his return from the wars, eh? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>with solemn reproach</i>). Ah, how can you say that to me, father? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Well, well, only a joke, little one. Come, give me a kiss. (<i>She kisses +him.</i>) Now give me the coat. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Now, I am going to put it on for you. Turn your back. (<i>He turns his back and +feels behind him with his arms for the sleeves. She dexterously takes the +photograph from the pocket and throws it on the table before Bluntschli, who +covers it with a sheet of paper under the very nose of Sergius, who looks on +amazed, with his suspicions roused in the highest degree. She then helps +Petkoff on with his coat.</i>) There, dear! Now are you comfortable? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Quite, little love. Thanks. (<i>He sits down; and Raina returns to her seat +near the stove.</i>) Oh, by the bye, I’ve found something funny. What’s the +meaning of this? (<i>He put his hand into the picked pocket.</i>) Eh? Hallo! +(<i>He tries the other pocket.</i>) Well, I could have sworn—(<i>Much puzzled, +he tries the breast pocket.</i>) I wonder—(<i>Tries the original pocket.</i>) +Where can it—(<i>A light flashes on him; he rises, exclaiming</i>) Your +mother’s taken it. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>very red</i>). Taken what? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Your photograph, with the inscription: “Raina, to her Chocolate Cream Soldier—a +souvenir.” Now you know there’s something more in this than meets the eye; and +I’m going to find it out. (<i>Shouting</i>) Nicola! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>dropping a log, and turning</i>). Sir! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Did you spoil any pastry of Miss Raina’s this morning? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +You heard Miss Raina say that I did, sir. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +I know that, you idiot. Was it true? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +I am sure Miss Raina is incapable of saying anything that is not true, sir. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Are you? Then I’m not. (<i>Turning to the others.</i>) Come: do you think I +don’t see it all? (<i>Goes to Sergius, and slaps him on the shoulder.</i>) +Sergius: you’re the chocolate cream soldier, aren’t you? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>starting up</i>). I! a chocolate cream soldier! Certainly not. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Not! (<i>He looks at them. They are all very serious and very conscious.</i>) +Do you mean to tell me that Raina sends photographic souvenirs to other men? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>enigmatically</i>). The world is not such an innocent place as we used to +think, Petkoff. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>rising</i>). It’s all right, Major. I’m the chocolate cream soldier. +(<i>Petkoff and Sergius are equally astonished.</i>) The gracious young lady +saved my life by giving me chocolate creams when I was starving—shall I ever +forget their flavour! My late friend Stolz told you the story at Peerot. I was +the fugitive. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +You! (<i>He gasps.</i>) Sergius: do you remember how those two women went on +this morning when we mentioned it? (<i>Sergius smiles cynically. Petkoff +confronts Raina severely.</i>) You’re a nice young woman, aren’t you? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>bitterly</i>). Major Saranoff has changed his mind. And when I wrote that +on the photograph, I did not know that Captain Bluntschli was married. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>much startled protesting vehemently</i>). I’m not married. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>with deep reproach</i>). You said you were. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +I did not. I positively did not. I never was married in my life. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>exasperated</i>). Raina: will you kindly inform me, if I am not asking too +much, which gentleman you are engaged to? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +To neither of them. This young lady (<i>introducing Louka, who faces them all +proudly</i>) is the object of Major Saranoff’s affections at present. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Louka! Are you mad, Sergius? Why, this girl’s engaged to Nicola. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>coming forward </i>). I beg your pardon, sir. There is a mistake. Louka is +not engaged to me. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Not engaged to you, you scoundrel! Why, you had twenty-five levas from me on +the day of your betrothal; and she had that gilt bracelet from Miss Raina. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +NICOLA.<br/> +(<i>with cool unction</i>). We gave it out so, sir. But it was only to give +Louka protection. She had a soul above her station; and I have been no more +than her confidential servant. I intend, as you know, sir, to set up a shop +later on in Sofia; and I look forward to her custom and recommendation should +she marry into the nobility. (<i>He goes out with impressive discretion, +leaving them all staring after him.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>breaking the silence</i>). Well, I am—-hm! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +This is either the finest heroism or the most crawling baseness. Which is it, +Bluntschli? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Never mind whether it’s heroism or baseness. Nicola’s the ablest man I’ve met +in Bulgaria. I’ll make him manager of a hotel if he can speak French and +German. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>suddenly breaking out at Sergius</i>). I have been insulted by everyone +here. You set them the example. You owe me an apology. (<i>Sergius immediately, +like a repeating clock of which the spring has been touched, begins to fold his +arms.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>before he can speak</i>). It’s no use. He never apologizes. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +Not to you, his equal and his enemy. To me, his poor servant, he will not +refuse to apologize. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>approvingly</i>). You are right. (<i>He bends his knee in his grandest +manner.</i>) Forgive me! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +I forgive you. (<i>She timidly gives him her hand, which he kisses.</i>) That +touch makes me your affianced wife. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>springing up</i>). Ah, I forgot that! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>coldly</i>). You can withdraw if you like. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Withdraw! Never! You belong to me! (<i>He puts his arm about her and draws her +to him.</i>) (<i>Catherine comes in and finds Louka in Sergius’s arms, and all +the rest gazing at them in bewildered astonishment.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +What does this mean? (<i>Sergius releases Louka.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Well, my dear, it appears that Sergius is going to marry Louka instead of +Raina. (<i>She is about to break out indignantly at him: he stops her by +exclaiming testily.</i>) Don’t blame me: I’ve nothing to do with it. (<i>He +retreats to the stove.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Marry Louka! Sergius: you are bound by your word to us! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>folding his arms</i>). Nothing binds me. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>much pleased by this piece of common sense</i>). Saranoff: your hand. My +congratulations. These heroics of yours have their practical side after all. +(<i>To Louka.</i>) Gracious young lady: the best wishes of a good Republican! +(<i>He kisses her hand, to Raina’s great disgust.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>threateningly</i>). Louka: you have been telling stories. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +I have done Raina no harm. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>haughtily</i>). Raina! (<i>Raina is equally indignant at the liberty.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +I have a right to call her Raina: she calls me Louka. I told Major Saranoff she +would never marry him if the Swiss gentleman came back. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>surprised</i>). Hallo! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +LOUKA.<br/> +(<i>turning to Raina</i>). I thought you were fonder of him than of Sergius. +You know best whether I was right. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +What nonsense! I assure you, my dear Major, my dear Madame, the gracious young +lady simply saved my life, nothing else. She never cared two straws for me. +Why, bless my heart and soul, look at the young lady and look at me. She, rich, +young, beautiful, with her imagination full of fairy princes and noble natures +and cavalry charges and goodness knows what! And I, a common-place Swiss +soldier who hardly knows what a decent life is after fifteen years of barracks +and battles—a vagabond—a man who has spoiled all his chances in life through an +incurably romantic disposition—a man— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>starting as if a needle had pricked him and interrupting Bluntschli in +incredulous amazement</i>). Excuse me, Bluntschli: what did you say had spoiled +your chances in life? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>promptly</i>). An incurably romantic disposition. I ran away from home +twice when I was a boy. I went into the army instead of into my father’s +business. I climbed the balcony of this house when a man of sense would have +dived into the nearest cellar. I came sneaking back here to have another look +at the young lady when any other man of my age would have sent the coat back— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +My coat! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.—Yes: that’s the coat I mean—would have sent it back and gone +quietly home. Do you suppose I am the sort of fellow a young girl falls in love +with? Why, look at our ages! I’m thirty-four: I don’t suppose the young lady is +much over seventeen. (<i>This estimate produces a marked sensation, all the +rest turning and staring at one another. He proceeds innocently.</i>) All that +adventure which was life or death to me, was only a schoolgirl’s game to +her—chocolate creams and hide and seek. Here’s the proof! (<i>He takes the +photograph from the table.</i>) Now, I ask you, would a woman who took the +affair seriously have sent me this and written on it: “Raina, to her chocolate +cream soldier—a souvenir”? (<i>He exhibits the photograph triumphantly, as if +it settled the matter beyond all possibility of refutation.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +That’s what I was looking for. How the deuce did it get there? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>to Raina complacently</i>). I have put everything right, I hope, gracious +young lady! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>in uncontrollable vexation</i>). I quite agree with your account of +yourself. You are a romantic idiot. (<i>Bluntschli is unspeakably taken +aback.</i>) Next time I hope you will know the difference between a schoolgirl +of seventeen and a woman of twenty-three. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>stupefied</i>). Twenty-three! (<i>She snaps the photograph contemptuously +from his hand; tears it across; and throws the pieces at his feet.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +(<i>with grim enjoyment of Bluntschli’s discomfiture</i>). Bluntschli: my one +last belief is gone. Your sagacity is a fraud, like all the other things. You +have less sense than even I have. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>overwhelmed</i>). Twenty-three! Twenty-three!! (<i>He considers.</i>) Hm! +(<i>Swiftly making up his mind.</i>) In that case, Major Petkoff, I beg to +propose formally to become a suitor for your daughter’s hand, in place of Major +Saranoff retired. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +You dare! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +If you were twenty-three when you said those things to me this afternoon, I +shall take them seriously. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>loftily polite</i>). I doubt, sir, whether you quite realize either my +daughter’s position or that of Major Sergius Saranoff, whose place you propose +to take. The Petkoffs and the Saranoffs are known as the richest and most +important families in the country. Our position is almost historical: we can go +back for nearly twenty years. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Oh, never mind that, Catherine. (<i>To Bluntschli.</i>) We should be most +happy, Bluntschli, if it were only a question of your position; but hang it, +you know, Raina is accustomed to a very comfortable establishment. Sergius +keeps twenty horses. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +But what on earth is the use of twenty horses? Why, it’s a circus. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +(<i>severely</i>). My daughter, sir, is accustomed to a first-rate stable. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +Hush, mother, you’re making me ridiculous. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Oh, well, if it comes to a question of an establishment, here goes! (<i>He goes +impetuously to the table and seizes the papers in the blue envelope.</i>) How +many horses did you say? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Twenty, noble Switzer! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +I have two hundred horses. (<i>They are amazed.</i>) How many carriages? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +Three. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +I have seventy. Twenty-four of them will hold twelve inside, besides two on the +box, without counting the driver and conductor. How many tablecloths have you? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +How the deuce do I know? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +Have you four thousand? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +NO. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +I have. I have nine thousand six hundred pairs of sheets and blankets, with two +thousand four hundred eider-down quilts. I have ten thousand knives and forks, +and the same quantity of dessert spoons. I have six hundred servants. I have +six palatial establishments, besides two livery stables, a tea garden and a +private house. I have four medals for distinguished services; I have the rank +of an officer and the standing of a gentleman; and I have three native +languages. Show me any man in Bulgaria that can offer as much. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +(<i>with childish awe</i>). Are you Emperor of Switzerland? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +My rank is the highest known in Switzerland: I’m a free citizen. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +CATHERINE.<br/> +Then Captain Bluntschli, since you are my daughter’s choice, I shall not stand +in the way of her happiness. (<i>Petkoff is about to speak.</i>) That is Major +Petkoff’s feeling also. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +PETKOFF.<br/> +Oh, I shall be only too glad. Two hundred horses! Whew! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +What says the lady? +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>pretending to sulk</i>). The lady says that he can keep his tablecloths and +his omnibuses. I am not here to be sold to the highest bidder. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +I won’t take that answer. I appealed to you as a fugitive, a beggar, and a +starving man. You accepted me. You gave me your hand to kiss, your bed to sleep +in, and your roof to shelter me— +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>interrupting him</i>). I did not give them to the Emperor of Switzerland! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +That’s just what I say. (<i>He catches her hand quickly and looks her straight +in the face as he adds, with confident mastery</i>) Now tell us who you did +give them to. +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +RAINA.<br/> +(<i>succumbing with a shy smile</i>). To my chocolate cream soldier! +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI.<br/> +(<i>with a boyish laugh of delight</i>). That’ll do. Thank you. (<i>Looks at +his watch and suddenly becomes businesslike.</i>) Time’s up, Major. You’ve +managed those regiments so well that you are sure to be asked to get rid of +some of the Infantry of the Teemok division. Send them home by way of Lom +Palanka. Saranoff: don’t get married until I come back: I shall be here +punctually at five in the evening on Tuesday fortnight. Gracious ladies—good +evening. (<i>He makes them a military bow, and goes.</i>) +</p> + +<p class="dialog"> +SERGIUS.<br/> +What a man! What a man! +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARMS AND THE MAN ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for +copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very +easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation +of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project +Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may +do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected +by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark +license, especially commercial redistribution. +</div> + +<div style='margin-top:1em; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE</div> +<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE</div> +<div style='text-align:center;font-size:0.9em'>PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person +or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the +Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when +you share it without charge with others. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country other than the United States. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work +on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: +</div> + +<blockquote> + <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most + other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions + whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms + of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online + at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you + are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws + of the country where you are located before using this eBook. + </div> +</blockquote> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg™ License. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format +other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain +Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +provided that: +</div> + +<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation.” + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ + works. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + </div> + + <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> + • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. + </div> +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of +the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set +forth in Section 3 below. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, +Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up +to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website +and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread +public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state +visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Most people start at our website which has the main PG search +facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. +</div> + +</div> + +</body> + +</html> + + |