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diff --git a/old/2015-06-15_3618-h.zip b/old/2015-06-15_3618-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2bd6612 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/2015-06-15_3618-h.zip diff --git a/old/2015-06-15_3618.zip b/old/2015-06-15_3618.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..78308bd --- /dev/null +++ b/old/2015-06-15_3618.zip diff --git a/old/3618-h.htm b/old/3618-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1c4d5bd --- /dev/null +++ b/old/3618-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5550 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<HTML> +<HEAD> + +<META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=US-ASCII"> + +<TITLE> +The Project Gutenberg E-text of Arms and the Man, by George Bernard Shaw +</TITLE> + +<STYLE TYPE="text/css"> +BODY { color: Black; + background: White; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; + text-align: justify } + +P {text-indent: 4% } + +P.noindent {text-indent: 0% } + +P.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%;} + +P.stage {text-indent: 0%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-left: 10%;} + +P.dialog {text-indent: -5%; + margin-left: 5%;} + +P.finis { font-size: larger ; + text-align: center ; + text-indent: 0% ; + margin-left: 0% ; + margin-right: 0% } + +</STYLE> + +</HEAD> + +<BODY> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Arms and the Man, by George Bernard Shaw + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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 www.gutenberg.net + + +Title: Arms and the Man + +Author: George Bernard Shaw + +Posting Date: November 21, 2010 [EBook #3618] +Release Date: January, 2003 +First Posted: June 17, 2001 +Last Updated: June 21, 2015 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARMS AND THE MAN *** + + + + +Produced by Jim Tinsley <jtinsley@pobox.com> with help +from the distributed proofreaders at +http://charlz.dynip.com/gutenberg + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +Arms and the Man +</H1> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +by George Bernard Shaw +</H3> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +INTRODUCTION +</H3> + +<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 +dramatic art than, according to his own story in "The Man of Destiny," +Napoleon at Tavazzano knew of the Art of War. 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. Candida 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. Gloria 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. +Crampton, 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, William, 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="noindent"> +M. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +ARMS AND THE MAN +</H2> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ACT I +</H3> + +<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 (entering hastily, full of good news). Raina—(she +pronounces it Rah-eena, with the stress on the ee) Raina—(she +goes to the bed, expecting to find Raina there.) Why, +where—(Raina looks into the room.) 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 (coming in). I sent her away. I wanted to be alone. The +stars are so beautiful! What is the matter? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Such news. There has been a battle! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (her eyes dilating). Ah! (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. A great battle at Slivnitza! A victory! And it was +won by Sergius. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (with a cry of delight). Ah! (Rapturously.) Oh, mother! +(Then, with sudden anxiety) Is father safe? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Of course: he sent me the news. Sergius is the hero +of the hour, the idol of the regiment. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Tell me, tell me. How was it! (Ecstatically) Oh, mother, +mother, mother! (Raina pulls her mother down on the ottoman; and +they kiss one another frantically.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (with surging enthusiasm). 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. 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! (She rises and walks about excitedly.) It +proves that all our ideas were real after all. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (indignantly). Our ideas real! What do you mean? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. 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—(Quickly.) Promise me you'll never tell him. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Don't ask me for promises until I know what I am +promising. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. 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. (Remorsefully.) 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. 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 (laughing and sitting down again). 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! (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. 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. (Raina and Catherine rise together, alarmed.) 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. (She goes out on the balcony and pulls +the outside shutters to; then steps back into the room.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. I wish our people were not so cruel. What glory is there +in killing wretched fugitives? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (business-like, her housekeeping instincts aroused). +I must see that everything is made safe downstairs. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (to Louka). Leave the shutters so that I can just close +them if I hear any noise. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (authoritatively, turning on her way to the door). +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. Yes, madam. (She fastens them.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. 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. Quite the wisest thing you can do, my love. +Good-night. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Good-night. (They kiss one another, and Raina's emotion +comes back for a moment.) Wish me joy of the happiest night of +my life—if only there are no fugitives. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Go to bed, dear; and don't think of them. (She goes +out.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (secretly, to Raina). If you would like the shutters +open, just give them a push like this. (She pushes them: they +open: she pulls them to again.) One of them ought to be bolted +at the bottom; but the bolt's gone. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (with dignity, reproving her). Thanks, Louka; but we must +do what we are told. (Louka makes a grimace.) Good-night. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (carelessly). Good-night. (She goes out, swaggering.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (looking up at the picture with worship.) Oh, I shall +never be unworthy of you any more, my hero—never, never, never. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (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) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +My hero! my hero! +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (crouching on the bed). Who's there? (The match is out +instantly.) Who's there? Who is that? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +A MAN'S VOICE (in the darkness, subduedly, but threateningly). +Sh—sh! Don't call out or you'll be shot. Be good; and no harm +will happen to you. (She is heard leaving her bed, and making +for the door.) Take care, there's no use in trying to run away. +Remember, if you raise your voice my pistol will go off. +(Commandingly.) Strike a light and let me see you. Do you hear? +(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) Excuse my disturbing you; +but you recognise my uniform—Servian. If I'm caught I shall be +killed. (Determinedly.) Do you understand that? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Yes. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. Well, I don't intend to get killed if I can help it. (Still +more determinedly.) Do you understand that? (He locks the door +with a snap.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (disdainfully). I suppose not. (She draws herself up +superbly, and looks him straight in the face, saying with +emphasis) Some soldiers, I know, are afraid of death. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (with grim goodhumor). 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 (cutting him short). You will shoot me. How do you know +that I am afraid to die? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (cunningly). 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? (Raina, suddenly +conscious of her nightgown, instinctively shrinks and gathers it +more closely about her. He watches her, and adds, pitilessly) +It's rather scanty, eh? (She turns to the ottoman. He raises his +pistol instantly, and cries) Stop! (She stops.) Where are you +going? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (with dignified patience). Only to get my cloak. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (darting to the ottoman and snatching the cloak). 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. (He throws the pistol down on the ottoman.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (revolted). It is not the weapon of a gentleman! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. It's good enough for a man with only you to stand between +him and death. (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) Do you hear? If you are going +to bring those scoundrels in on me you shall receive them as you +are. (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) No use: I'm +done for. Quick! wrap yourself up: they're coming! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (catching the cloak eagerly). Oh, thank you. (She wraps +herself up with great relief. He draws his sabre and turns to +the door, waiting.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (outside, knocking). My lady, my lady! Get up, quick, and +open the door. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (anxiously). What will you do? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (grimly). Never mind. Keep out of the way. It will not last +long. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (impulsively). I'll help you. Hide yourself, oh, hide +yourself, quick, behind the curtain. (She seizes him by a torn +strip of his sleeve, and pulls him towards the window.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (yielding to her). There is just half a chance, if you keep +your head. Remember: nine soldiers out of ten are born fools. +(He hides behind the curtain, looking out for a moment to say, +finally) If they find me, I promise you a fight—a devil of a +fight! (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. 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 (as if annoyed at being disturbed). They shall not search +here. Why have they been let in? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (coming in hastily). Raina, darling, are you safe? +Have you seen anyone or heard anything? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. I heard the shooting. Surely the soldiers will not dare +come in here? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. I have found a Russian officer, thank Heaven: he +knows Sergius. (Speaking through the door to someone outside.) +Sir, will you come in now! My daughter is ready. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (A young Russian officer, in Bulgarian uniform, + enters, sword in hand.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +THE OFFICER. (with soft, feline politeness and stiff military +carriage). 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 (petulantly). Nonsense, sir, you can see that there is no +one on the balcony. (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +THE OFFICER. (on the balcony, shouting savagely down to the +street). Cease firing there, you fools: do you hear? Cease +firing, damn you. (He glares down for a moment; then turns to +Raina, trying to resume his polite manner.) Could anyone have +got in without your knowledge? Were you asleep? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. No, I have not been to bed. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +THE OFFICER. (impatiently, coming back into the room). Your +neighbours have their heads so full of runaway Servians that +they see them everywhere. (Politely.) Gracious lady, a thousand +pardons. Good-night. (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Don't leave my mother, Louka, whilst the soldiers are +here. (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. 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 (haughtily). 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. 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. Have I not been generous? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. 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. Oh, no: I am sorry you will have to go into danger again. +(Motioning towards ottoman.) Won't you sit—(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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (irritably). Don't frighten me like that. What is it? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Your pistol! It was staring that officer in the face all +the time. What an escape! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (vexed at being unnecessarily terrified). Oh, is that all? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (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 am sorry I frightened +you. (She takes up the pistol and hands it to him.) Pray take it +to protect yourself against me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (grinning wearily at the sarcasm as he takes the pistol). +No use, dear young lady: there's nothing in it. It's not loaded. +(He makes a grimace at it, and drops it disparagingly into his +revolver case.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Load it by all means. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. 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 (outraged in her most cherished ideals of manhood). +Chocolate! Do you stuff your pockets with sweets—like a +schoolboy—even in the field? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. Yes. Isn't it contemptible? +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Allow me. I am sorry I have eaten them all except these. +(She offers him the box.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (ravenously). You're an angel! (He gobbles the comfits.) +Creams! Delicious! (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) 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. (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.) +Ugh! Don't do things so suddenly, gracious lady. Don't revenge +yourself because I frightened you just now. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (superbly). 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. 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. (He +sits down on the ottoman, and takes his head in his hands.) +Would you like to see me cry? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (quickly). No. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. 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 (a little moved). I'm sorry. I won't scold you. (Touched +by the sympathy in her tone, he raises his head and looks +gratefully at her: she immediately draws back and says stiffly) +You must excuse me: our soldiers are not like that. (She moves +away from the ottoman.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. 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. (Indignantly.) I never saw anything so +unprofessional. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (ironically). Oh, was it unprofessional to beat you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. 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 (eagerly turning to him, as all her enthusiasm and her +dream of glory rush back on her). Did you see the great cavalry +charge? Oh, tell me about it. Describe it to me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. You never saw a cavalry charge, did you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. How could I? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. 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 (her eyes dilating as she raises her clasped hands +ecstatically). Yes, first One!—the bravest of the brave! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (prosaically). Hm! you should see the poor devil pulling at +his horse. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Why should he pull at his horse? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (impatient of so stupid a question). 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. Ugh! But I don't believe the first man is a coward. I +believe he is a hero! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (goodhumoredly). That's what you'd have said if you'd seen +the first man in the charge to-day. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (breathless). Ah, I knew it! Tell me—tell me about him. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. 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 (deeply wounded, but steadfastly loyal to her ideals). +Indeed! Would you know him again if you saw him? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. Shall I ever forget him. (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. That is a photograph of the gentleman—the patriot and +hero—to whom I am betrothed. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (looking at it). I'm really very sorry. (Looking at her.) +Was it fair to lead me on? (He looks at the portrait again.) +Yes: that's him: not a doubt of it. (He stifles a laugh.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (quickly). Why do you laugh? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (shamefacedly, but still greatly tickled). 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—(chokes with suppressed laughter). +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (sternly). Give me back the portrait, sir. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (with sincere remorse). Of course. Certainly. I'm really +very sorry. (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.) 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. That is to say, he was a pretender and a coward! You did +not dare say that before. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (with a comic gesture of despair). It's no use, dear lady: +I can't make you see it from the professional point of view. (As +he turns away to get back to the ottoman, the firing begins +again in the distance.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (sternly, as she sees him listening to the shots). So +much the better for you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (turning). How? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. 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. 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 (coldly). 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. (She turns to +the window.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (changing countenance). 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!—(He sinks on the ottoman.) It's no use: I give up: +I'm beaten. Give the alarm. (He drops his head in his hands in +the deepest dejection.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (disarmed by pity). Come, don't be disheartened. (She +stoops over him almost maternally: he shakes his head.) 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 (dreamily, lulled by her voice). 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 (softly and wonderingly, catching the rhythm of his +weariness). Are you so sleepy as that? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. 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 (desperately). But what am I to do with you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (staggering up). Of course I must do something. (He shakes +himself; pulls himself together; and speaks with rallied vigour +and courage.) 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—(He hits himself +on the chest, and adds)—Do you hear that, you chocolate cream +soldier? (He turns to the window.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (anxiously). But if you fall? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. I shall sleep as if the stones were a feather bed. +Good-bye. (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (rushing to him). Stop! (She catches him by the shoulder, +and turns him quite round.) They'll kill you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (coolly, but attentively). Never mind: this sort of thing +is all in my day's work. I'm bound to take my chance. +(Decisively.) 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 (clinging to him). 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. I really don't want to be troublesome. (She shakes him in +her impatience.) I am not indifferent, dear young lady, I assure +you. But how is it to be done? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Come away from the window—please. (She coaxes him back +to the middle of the room. He submits humbly. She releases him, +and addresses him patronizingly.) 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. What's that? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (rather indignantly). I mean that I belong to the family +of the Petkoffs, the richest and best known in our country. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. Oh, yes, of course. I beg your pardon. The Petkoffs, to be +sure. How stupid of me! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. You know you never heard of them until this minute. How +can you stoop to pretend? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. 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. I forgot. It might make you cry. (He nods, quite +seriously. She pouts and then resumes her patronizing tone.) I +must tell you that my father holds the highest command of any +Bulgarian in our army. He is (proudly) a Major. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (pretending to be deeply impressed). A Major! Bless me! +Think of that! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. 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. Stairs! How grand! You live in great luxury indeed, dear +young lady. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Do you know what a library is? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. A library? A roomful of books. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Yes, we have one, the only one in Bulgaria. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. Actually a real library! I should like to see that. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (affectedly). 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. I saw that, dear young lady. I saw at once that you knew +the world. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Have you ever seen the opera of Ernani? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. Is that the one with the devil in it in red velvet, and a +soldier's chorus? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (contemptuously). No! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (stifling a heavy sigh of weariness). Then I don't know it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. 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 (quickly waking up a little). Have your people got that +notion? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (with dignity). 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. Quite sure? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (turning her back on him in disgust.) Oh, it is useless +to try and make you understand. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. 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. 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? (She offers him her hand.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (looking dubiously at his own hand). Better not touch my +hand, dear young lady. I must have a wash first. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (touched). That is very nice of you. I see that you are a +gentleman. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (puzzled). Eh? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. 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. +(She offers it again.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (kissing it with his hands behind his back). 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. If you will be so good as to keep perfectly still whilst +I am away. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. Certainly. (He sits down on the ottoman.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (at the door). You are not going asleep, are you? +(He murmurs inarticulately: she runs to him and shakes him.) +Do you hear? Wake up: you are falling asleep. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN. 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 (severely). Will you please stand up while I am +away. (He rises reluctantly.) All the time, mind. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (standing unsteadily). Certainly—certainly: you +may depend on me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MAN (drowsily). Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, slee—(The +words trail off into a murmur. He wakes again with a +shock on the point of falling.) Where am I? That's what +I want to know: where am I? Must keep awake. Nothing +keeps me awake except danger—remember that—(intently) +danger, danger, danger, dan— Where's danger? Must +find it. (He starts of vaguely around the room in search of +it.) What am I looking for? Sleep—danger—don't know. +(He stumbles against the bed.) 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. (He sits on the bed. A blissful expression +comes into his face.) Ah! (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (Catherine comes in, followed by Raina.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (looking at the ottoman). He's gone! I left him +here. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE, Here! Then he must have climbed down from the— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (seeing him). Oh! (She points.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (scandalized). Well! (She strides to the left +side of the bed, Raina following and standing opposite her on +the right.) He's fast asleep. The brute! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (anxiously). Sh! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (shaking him). Sir! (Shaking him again, +harder.) Sir!! (Vehemently shaking very bard.) Sir!!! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (catching her arm). Don't, mamma: the poor dear +is worn out. Let him sleep. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (letting him go and turning amazed to Raina). +The poor dear! Raina!!! (She looks sternly at her +daughter. The man sleeps profoundly.) +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ACT II +</H3> + +<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. 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. I do defy her. I will defy her. What do I care for her? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA. 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. You take her part against me, do you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA (sedately). 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. You have no spirit. I should like to see them dare say a +word against me! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA (pityingly). I should have expected more sense from you, +Louka. But you're young, you're young! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. 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 (with compassionate superiority). Do you know what they +would do if they heard you talk like that? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. What could they do? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA. 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? (She impatiently throws away the end of her cigaret, and +stamps on it.) 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. (He goes close to her and lowers his +voice.) 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 (turning on him quickly). How do you know? I never told +you! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA (opening his eyes cunningly). 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 (with searching scorn). You have the soul of a servant, +Nicola. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA (complacently). Yes: that's the secret of success in +service. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (A loud knocking with a whip handle on a wooden + door, outside on the left, is heard.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +MALE VOICE OUTSIDE. Hollo! Hollo there! Nicola! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. Master! back from the war! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA (quickly). My word for it, Louka, the war's over. Off +with you and get some fresh coffee. (He runs out into the stable +yard.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (as she puts the coffee pot and the cups upon the tray, +and carries it into the house). You'll never put the soul of a +servant into me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (pointing to the table with his whip). Breakfast out +here, eh? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA. Yes, sir. The mistress and Miss Raina have just gone in. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (fitting down and taking a roll). Go in and say I've +come; and get me some fresh coffee. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA. It's coming, sir. (He goes to the house door. Louka, +with fresh coffee, a clean cup, and a brandy bottle on her tray +meets him.) Have you told the mistress? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. Yes: she's coming. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (Nicola goes into the house. Louka brings the + coffee to the table.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. Well, the Servians haven't run away with you, have +they? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. No, sir. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. That's right. Have you brought me some cognac? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (putting the bottle on the table). Here, sir. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. That's right. (He pours some into his coffee.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. My dear Paul, what a surprise for us. (She stoops +over the back of his chair to kiss him.) Have they brought you +fresh coffee? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. 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 (springing erect, with flashing eyes). The war over! +Paul: have you let the Austrians force you to make peace? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (submissively). My dear: they didn't consult me. What +could <I>I</I> do? (She sits down and turns away from him.) But of +course we saw to it that the treaty was an honorable one. It +declares peace— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (outraged). Peace! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (appeasing her).—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. 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. 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 (relenting). Ah! (Stretches her hand affectionately +across the table to squeeze his.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. And how have you been, my dear? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Oh, my usual sore throats, that's all. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (with conviction). That comes from washing your neck +every day. I've often told you so. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Nonsense, Paul! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (over his coffee and cigaret). 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. You are a barbarian at heart still, Paul. I hope you +behaved yourself before all those Russian officers. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. I did my best. I took care to let them know that we had +a library. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. 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. What's an electric bell? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. You touch a button; something tinkles in the kitchen; +and then Nicola comes up. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. Why not shout for him? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Civilized people never shout for their servants. I've +learnt that while you were away. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. 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 (indicating +the clothes on the bushes) put somewhere else. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Oh, that's absurd, Paul: I don't believe really +refined people notice such things. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (Someone is heard knocking at the stable gates.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. There's Sergius. (Shouting.) Hollo, Nicola! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Oh, don't shout, Paul: it really isn't nice. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. Bosh! (He shouts louder than before.) Nicola! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA (appearing at the house door). Yes, sir. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. If that is Major Saranoff, bring him round this way. +(He pronounces the name with the stress on the second +syllable—Sarah-noff.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA. Yes, sir. (He goes into the stable yard.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. 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. 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. 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 (at the gate, announcing). Major Sergius Saranoff! (He +goes into the house and returns presently with a third chair, +which he places at the table. He then withdraws.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. Here already, Sergius. Glad to see you! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. My dear Sergius!(She holds out both her hands.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (kissing them with scrupulous gallantry). My dear +mother, if I may call you so. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (drily). Mother-in-law, Sergius; mother-in-law! Sit +down, and have some coffee. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. Thank you, none for me. (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. 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 (with grave irony). Madam: it was the cradle and the +grave of my military reputation. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. How so? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. 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. 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. It is too late. I have only waited for the peace to +send in my resignation. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (dropping his cup in his amazement). Your resignation! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Oh, you must withdraw it! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (with resolute, measured emphasis, folding his arms). I +never withdraw! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (vexed). Now who could have supposed you were going to +do such a thing? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (with fire). Everyone that knew me. But enough of +myself and my affairs. How is Raina; and where is Raina? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (suddenly coming round the corner of the house and +standing at the top of the steps in the path). Raina is here. +(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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (aside to Catherine, beaming with parental pride). +Pretty, isn't it? She always appears at the right moment. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (impatiently). Yes: she listens for it. It is an +abominable habit. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (stooping and kissing her father). Dear father! Welcome +home! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (patting her cheek). My little pet girl. (He kisses +her; she goes to the chair left by Nicola for Sergius, and sits +down.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. And so you're no longer a soldier, Sergius. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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. (With mock enthusiasm.) 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. A Swiss? What was he doing in the Servian army? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. A volunteer of course—keen on picking up his +profession. (Chuckling.) 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. Are there many Swiss officers in the Servian Army? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. 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. We were two children in the hands of that consummate +soldier, Major: simply two innocent little children. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. What was he like? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Oh, Raina, what a silly question! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. He was like a commercial traveller in uniform. +Bourgeois to his boots. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (grinning). 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 (with bitter irony). 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 (rising with marked stateliness). Your life in the camp +has made you coarse, Sergius. I did not think you would have +repeated such a story before me. (She turns away coldly.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (also rising). She is right, Sergius. If such women +exist, we should be spared the knowledge of them. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. Pooh! nonsense! what does it matter? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (ashamed). No, Petkoff: I was wrong. (To Raina, with +earnest humility.) I beg your pardon. I have behaved abominably. +Forgive me, Raina. (She bows reservedly.) And you, too, madam. +(Catherine bows graciously and sits down. He proceeds solemnly, +again addressing Raina.) 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—(Here, turning to the others, he +is evidently about to begin a long speech when the Major +interrupts him.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. 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. (He rises.) +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. +(He goes towards the house.) Come along. (Sergius is about to +follow him when Catherine rises and intervenes.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. 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 (protesting). My dear madam, impossible: you— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (stopping him playfully). You stay here, my dear +Sergius: there's no hurry. I have a word or two to say to Paul. +(Sergius instantly bows and steps back.) Now, dear (taking +Petkoff's arm), come and see the electric bell. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. Oh, very well, very well. (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (Exit R. into house, followed by Catherine.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (hastening to her, but refraining from touching her +without express permission). Am I forgiven? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (placing her hands on his shoulder as she looks up at him +with admiration and worship). My hero! My king. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. My queen! (He kisses her on the forehead with holy +awe.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. 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. 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. And you have never been absent from my thoughts for a +moment. (Very solemnly.) 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. My lady, and my saint! (Clasping her reverently.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (returning his embrace). My lord and my g— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. 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. I trust you. I love you. You will never disappoint me, +Sergius. (Louka is heard singing within the house. They quickly +release each other.) Hush! I can't pretend to talk indifferently +before her: my heart is too full. (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 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. Be quick. If you are away five minutes, it will seem +five hours. (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) Louka: do you know what +the higher love is? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (astonished). No, sir. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. 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 (innocently). Perhaps you would like some coffee, sir? +(She stretches her hand across the table for the coffee pot.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (taking her hand). Thank you, Louka. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (pretending to pull). Oh, sir, you know I didn't mean +that. I'm surprised at you! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (coming clear of the table and drawing her with him). 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? (Letting go her hand +and slipping his arm dexterously round her waist.) Do you +consider my figure handsome, Louka? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. Let me go, sir. I shall be disgraced. (She struggles: he +holds her inexorably.) Oh, will you let go? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (looking straight into her eyes). No. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. Then stand back where we can't be seen. Have you no +common sense? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. Ah, that's reasonable. (He takes her into the +stableyard gateway, where they are hidden from the house.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (complaining). I may have been seen from the windows: +Miss Raina is sure to be spying about after you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (stung—letting her go). Take care, Louka. I may be +worthless enough to betray the higher love; but do not you +insult it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (demurely). Not for the world, sir, I'm sure. May I go on +with my work please, now? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (again putting his arm round her). 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. 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 (charmed). Witty as well as pretty. (He tries to kiss +her.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (avoiding him). 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 (recoiling a step). Louka! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. It shews how little you really care! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (dropping his familiarity and speaking with freezing +politeness). 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. 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 (turning from her and striking his forehead as he comes +back into the garden from the gateway). Devil! devil! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. Ha! ha! I expect one of the six of you is very like me, +sir, though I am only Miss Raina's maid. (She goes back to her +work at the table, taking no further notice of him.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (speaking to himself). 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. (He pauses and looks furtively at Louka, as +he adds with deep bitterness) And one, at least, is a +coward—jealous, like all cowards. (He goes to the table.) +Louka. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. Yes? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. Who is my rival? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. You shall never get that out of me, for love or money. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. Why? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. Never mind why. Besides, you would tell that I told you; +and I should lose my place. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (holding out his right hand in affirmation). No; on the +honor of a—(He checks himself, and his hand drops nerveless as +he concludes, sardonically)—of a man capable of behaving as I +have been behaving for the last five minutes. Who is he? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. I don't know. I never saw him. I only heard his voice +through the door of her room. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. Damnation! How dare you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (retreating). 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. (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. Now listen you to me! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (wincing). Not so tight: you're hurting me! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. 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 (writhing). Please— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. That shews that you are an abominable little clod of +common clay, with the soul of a servant. (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (whimpering angrily with her hands up her sleeves, +feeling her bruised arms). 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. (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. Louka! (She stops and looks defiantly at him with the +tray in her hands.) A gentleman has no right to hurt a woman +under any circumstances. (With profound humility, uncovering his +head.) I beg your pardon. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. That sort of apology may satisfy a lady. Of what use is +it to a servant? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (thus rudely crossed in his chivalry, throws it off +with a bitter laugh and says slightingly). Oh, you wish to be +paid for the hurt? (He puts on his shako, and takes some money +from his pocket.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (her eyes filling with tears in spite of herself). No, I +want my hurt made well. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (sobered by her tone). How? +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (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) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. Never! (and gets away as far as possible from her.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. I'm ready! What's the matter? (Gaily.) Have you been +flirting with Louka? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (hastily). No, no. How can you think such a thing? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (ashamed of herself). Forgive me, dear: it was only a +jest. I am so happy to-day. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (He goes quickly to her, and kisses her hand + remorsefully. Catherine comes out and calls + to them from the top of the steps.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (coming down to them). 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 (disappointed). But we are just going out for a walk. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. I shall not be long. Wait for me just five minutes. (He +runs up the steps to the door.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (following him to the foot of the steps and looking up at +him with timid coquetry). 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 (laughing). Very well. (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. 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 (gazing thoughtfully at the gravel as she walks). The +little beast! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Little beast! What little beast? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. 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. 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 (whisking round and recommencing her march in the +opposite direction). Oh, I forget. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. 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. No. Yes, I think he must have been there then. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. 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 (with cool impertinence). 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 (opening her eyes very widely indeed). Well, upon my +word! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (capriciously—half to herself). 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! (To +Catherine perversely.) I don't care whether he finds out about +the chocolate cream soldier or not. I half hope he may. (She +again turns flippantly away and strolls up the path to the +corner of the house.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. And what should I be able to say to your father, +pray? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (over her shoulder, from the top of the two steps). Oh, +poor father! As if he could help himself! (She turns the corner +and passes out of sight.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (looking after her, her fingers itching). Oh, if you +were only ten years younger! (Louka comes from the house with a +salver, which she carries hanging down by her side.) Well? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. There's a gentleman just called, madam—a Servian +officer— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (flaming). A Servian! How dare he—(Checking herself +bitterly.) 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. 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. (She takes a card out of her bosom; puts +it on the salver and offers it to Catherine.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (reading). "Captain Bluntschli!" That's a German +name. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. Swiss, madam, I think. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (with a bound that makes Louka jump back). Swiss! +What is he like? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (timidly). He has a big carpet bag, madam. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. 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! (She +throws herself into a chair to think it out. Louka waits.) The +master and Major Saranoff are busy in the library, aren't they? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. Yes, madam. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (decisively). Bring the gentleman out here at once. +(Imperatively.) And be very polite to him. Don't delay. Here +(impatiently snatching the salver from her): leave that here; +and go straight back to him. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. Yes, madam. (Going.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Louka! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (stopping). Yes, madam. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Is the library door shut? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. I think so, madam. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. If not, shut it as you pass through. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. Yes, madam. (Going.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Stop! (Louka stops.) He will have to go out that way +(indicating the gate of the stable yard). Tell Nicola to bring +his bag here after him. Don't forget. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (surprised). His bag? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Yes, here, as soon as possible. (Vehemently.) Be +quick! (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.) Oh, +how—how—how can a man be such a fool! Such a moment to select! +(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.) Captain +Bluntschli, I am very glad to see you; but you must leave this +house at once. (He raises his eyebrows.) 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 (disappointed, but philosophical). 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. (He +turns to go into the house.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (catching him by the sleeve). Oh, you must not think +of going back that way. (Coaxing him across to the stable +gates.) This is the shortest way out. Many thanks. So glad to +have been of service to you. Good-bye. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. But my bag? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. It will be sent on. You will leave me your address. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. True. Allow me. (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (as he hurries down the steps). My dear Captain +Bluntschli— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Oh Heavens! (She sinks on the seat against the wall.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (too preoccupied to notice her as he shakes +Bluntschli's hand heartily). Those stupid people of mine thought +I was out here, instead of in the—haw!—library. (He cannot +mention the library without betraying how proud he is of it.) 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 (saluting humorously, and then offering his hand with +great charm of manner). Welcome, our friend the enemy! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. No longer the enemy, happily. (Rather anxiously.) I +hope you've come as a friend, and not on business. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. 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 (sardonically). 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 (suddenly attentive and business-like). +Phillipopolis! The forage is the trouble, eh? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (eagerly). Yes, that's it. (To Sergius.) He sees the +whole thing at once. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. I think I can shew you how to manage that. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. Invaluable man! Come along! (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (completely losing her presence of mind). Oh, the +chocolate cream soldier! +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (Bluntschli stands rigid. Sergius, amazed, looks + at Raina, then at Petkoff, who looks back at him + and then at his wife.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (with commanding presence of mind). 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"> + (Raina bows; Bluntschli bows.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. How silly of me! (She comes down into the centre of the +group, between Bluntschli and Petkoff) 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. +(To Bluntschli, winningly.) I hope you didn't think that you +were the chocolate cream soldier, Captain Bluntschli. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (laughing). I assure you I did. (Stealing a +whimsical glance at her.) Your explanation was a relief. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (suspiciously, to Raina). And since when, pray, have +you taken to cooking? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Oh, whilst you were away. It is her latest fancy. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (testily). 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—(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) Are you mad, Nicola? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA (taken aback). Sir? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. What have you brought that for? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA. My lady's orders, sir. Louka told me that— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (interrupting him). 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 (after a moment's bewilderment, picking up the bag as he +addresses Bluntschli with the very perfection of servile +discretion). I beg your pardon, sir, I am sure. (To Catherine.) +My fault, madam! I hope you'll overlook it! (He bows, and is +going to the steps with the bag, when Petkoff addresses him +angrily.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. You'd better go and slam that bag, too, down on Miss +Raina's ice pudding! (This is too much for Nicola. The bag drops +from his hands on Petkoff's corns, eliciting a roar of anguish +from him.) Begone, you butter-fingered donkey. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA (snatching up the bag, and escaping into the house). +Yes, sir. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Oh, never mind, Paul, don't be angry! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (muttering). Scoundrel. He's got out of hand while I +was away. I'll teach him. (Recollecting his guest.) 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. Oh, do, Captain Bluntschli. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (to Catherine). Now, Catherine, it's of you that he's +afraid. Press him and he'll stay. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Of course I shall be only too delighted if +(appealingly) Captain Bluntschli really wishes to stay. He knows +my wishes. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (in his driest military manner). I am at madame's +orders. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (cordially). That settles it! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (heartily). Of course! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. You see, you must stay! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (smiling). Well, If I must, I must! +(Gesture of despair from Catherine.) +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +ACT III +</H3> + +<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 (looking up from his paper to watch how they are +getting on at the table). Are you sure I can't help you in any +way, Bluntschli? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (without interrupting his writing or looking up). +Quite sure, thank you. Saranoff and I will manage it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (grimly). Yes: we'll manage it. He finds out what to +do; draws up the orders; and I sign 'em. Division of labour, +Major. (Bluntschli passes him a paper.) Another one? Thank you. +(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.) This hand +is more accustomed to the sword than to the pen. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. 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 (in a low, warning tone). You can stop interrupting, +Paul. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (starting and looking round at her). Eh? Oh! Quite +right, my love, quite right. (He takes his newspaper up, but +lets it drop again.) 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. What is that? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. My old coat. I'm not at home in this one: I feel as if +I were on parade. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. 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. My dear Catherine, I tell you I've looked there. Am I +to believe my own eyes or not? (Catherine quietly rises and +presses the button of the electric bell by the fireplace.) What +are you shewing off that bell for? (She looks at him majestically, +and silently resumes her chair and her needlework.) 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. (Nicola presents himself.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (unmoved by Petkoff's sally). 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. Yes, madam. (Nicola goes out.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. Catherine. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Yes, Paul? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. 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. Done, Paul. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (excited by the prospect of a gamble). 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 (imperturbably). It would be robbing you, Major. +Madame is sure to be right. (Without looking up, he passes +another batch of papers to Sergius.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (also excited). 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 (eagerly). Your best char— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (hastily interrupting him). Don't be foolish, Paul. +An Arabian mare will cost you 50,000 levas. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (suddenly coming out of her picturesque revery). 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"> + (Nicola comes back with the coat and brings it + to Petkoff, who can hardly believe his eyes.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Where was it, Nicola? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA. Hanging in the blue closet, madam. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. Well, I am d— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (stopping him). Paul! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. I could have sworn it wasn't there. Age is beginning to +tell on me. I'm getting hallucinations. (To Nicola.) Here: help +me to change. Excuse me, Bluntschli. (He begins changing coats, +Nicola acting as valet.) 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? (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) She's dreaming, as usual. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. Assuredly she shall not be the loser. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. So much the better for her. I shan't come off so cheap, +I expect. (The change is now complete. Nicola goes out with the +discarded coat.) Ah, now I feel at home at last. (He sits down +and takes his newspaper with a grunt of relief.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (to Sergius, handing a paper). That's the last +order. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (jumping up). What! finished? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. Finished. (Petkoff goes beside Sergius; looks +curiously over his left shoulder as he signs; and says with +childlike envy) Haven't you anything for me to sign? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. Not necessary. His signature will do. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. Ah, well, I think we've done a thundering good day's +work. (He goes away from the table.) Can I do anything more? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. You had better both see the fellows that are to take +these. (To Sergius.) 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 (rising indignantly). 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. (He strides out, his humanity +deeply outraged.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (confidentially). Just see that he talks to them +properly, Major, will you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (officiously). Quite right, Bluntschli, quite right. +I'll see to it. (He goes to the door importantly, but hesitates +on the threshold.) 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 (putting down her embroidery). I daresay I had +better. You will only splutter at them. (She goes out, Petkoff +holding the door for her and following her.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. What a country! They make cannons out of cherry +trees; and the officers send for their wives to keep discipline! +(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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. You look ever so much nicer than when we last met. (He +looks up, surprised.) What have you done to yourself? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. Washed; brushed; good night's sleep and breakfast. +That's all. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Did you get back safely that morning? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. Quite, thanks. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Were they angry with you for running away from Sergius's +charge? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. No, they were glad; because they'd all just run away +themselves. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (going to the table, and leaning over it towards him). It +must have made a lovely story for them—all that about me and my +room. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. Capital story. But I only told it to one of them—a +particular friend. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. On whose discretion you could absolutely rely? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. Absolutely. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Hm! He told it all to my father and Sergius the day you +exchanged the prisoners. (She turns away and strolls carelessly +across to the other side of the room.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (deeply concerned and half incredulous). No! you +don't mean that, do you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (turning, with sudden earnestness). 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. Bless me! then don't tell him. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (full of reproach for his levity). 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 (sceptically). 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 (wincing). 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. +(Bluntschli rises quickly and looks doubtfully and somewhat +severely at her.) Do you remember the first time? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. I! No. Was I present? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Yes; and I told the officer who was searching for you +that you were not present. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. True. I should have remembered it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (greatly encouraged). Ah, it is natural that you should +forget it first. It cost you nothing: it cost me a lie!—a lie!! +(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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. 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 (Raina recoils): the other is +getting his life saved in all sorts of ways by all sorts of +people. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (rising in indignant protest). And so he becomes a +creature incapable of faith and of gratitude. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (making a wry face). 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. Gratitude! (Turning on him.) 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. (She walks up the room melodramatically.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (dubiously). 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 (staring haughtily at him). Do you know, sir, that you +are insulting me? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. 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 (superbly). Captain Bluntschli! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (unmoved). Yes? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (coming a little towards him, as if she could not believe +her senses). Do you mean what you said just now? Do you know +what you said just now? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. I do. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (gasping). 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) How +did you find me out? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (promptly). Instinct, dear young lady. Instinct, and +experience of the world. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (wonderingly). Do you know, you are the first man I ever +met who did not take me seriously? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. You mean, don't you, that I am the first man that +has ever taken you quite seriously? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Yes, I suppose I do mean that. (Cosily, quite at her ease +with him.) 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. Yes: he's a little in that line himself, isn't he? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (startled). Do you think so? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. You know him better than I do. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. I wonder—I wonder is he? If I thought that—! +(Discouraged.) Ah, well, what does it matter? I suppose, now +that you've found me out, you despise me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (warmly, rising). 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 (pleased). Really? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (slapping his breast smartly with his hand, German +fashion). Hand aufs Herz! Really and truly. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (very happy). But what did you think of me for giving you +my portrait? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (astonished). Your portrait! You never gave me your +portrait. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (quickly). Do you mean to say you never got it? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. No. (He sits down beside her, with renewed interest, +and says, with some complacency.) When did you send it to me? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (indignantly). I did not send it to you. (She turns her +head away, and adds, reluctantly.) It was in the pocket of that +coat. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (pursing his lips and rounding his eyes). Oh-o-oh! I +never found it. It must be there still. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (springing up). 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 (rising also). 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 (impatiently). Yes, that is so clever—so clever! What +shall I do? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. Ah, I see. You wrote something on it. That was rash! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (annoyed almost to tears). 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. 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. What did you do with it? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. Pawned it!!! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. 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 (furious—throwing the words right into his face). You +have a low, shopkeeping mind. You think of things that would +never come into a gentleman's head. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (phlegmatically). That's the Swiss national +character, dear lady. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Oh, I wish I had never met you. (She flounces away and +sits at the window fuming.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (to Bluntschli). For you. (She empties the salver +recklessly on the table.) The messenger is waiting. (She is +determined not to be civil to a Servian, even if she must bring +him his letters.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (to Raina). 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. (He opens +one.) Oho! Bad news! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (rising and advancing a little remorsefully). Bad news? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. My father's dead. (He looks at the telegram with his +lips pursed, musing on the unexpected change in his +arrangements.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Oh, how very sad! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. +(Takes up a heavy letter in a long blue envelope.) Here's a +whacking letter from the family solicitor. (He pulls out the +enclosures and glances over them.) Great Heavens! Seventy! Two +hundred! (In a crescendo of dismay.) Four hundred! Four +thousand!! Nine thousand six hundred!!! What on earth shall I do +with them all? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (timidly). Nine thousand hotels? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. Hotels! Nonsense. If you only knew!—oh, it's too +ridiculous! Excuse me: I must give my fellow orders about +starting. (He leaves the room hastily, with the documents in his +hand.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (tauntingly). 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 (bitterly). Grief!—a man who has been doing nothing but +killing people for years! What does he care? What does any +soldier care? (She goes to the door, evidently restraining her +tears with difficulty.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. Major Saranoff has been fighting, too; and he has plenty +of heart left. (Raina, at the door, looks haughtily at her and +goes out.) Aha! I thought you wouldn't get much feeling out of +your soldier. (She is following Raina when Nicola enters with an +armful of logs for the fire.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA (grinning amorously at her). I've been trying all the +afternoon to get a minute alone with you, my girl. (His +countenance changes as he notices her arm.) Why, what fashion is +that of wearing your sleeve, child? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (proudly). My own fashion. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA. Indeed! If the mistress catches you, she'll talk to you. +(He throws the logs down on the ottoman, and sits comfortably +beside them.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. Is that any reason why you should take it on yourself to +talk to me? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA. Come: don't be so contrary with me. I've some good news +for you. (He takes out some paper money. Louka, with an eager +gleam in her eyes, comes close to look at it.) 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 (scornfully). 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 (picking up his logs, and going to the stove). Ah, wait +till you see. We shall have our evenings to ourselves; and I +shall be master in my own house, I promise you. (He throws the +logs down and kneels at the stove.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. You shall never be master in mine. (She sits down on +Sergius's chair.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA (turning, still on his knees, and squatting down rather +forlornly, on his calves, daunted by her implacable disdain). +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. You! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA (with dogged self-assertion). 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! (She tosses her head +defiantly; and he rises, ill-humoredly, adding more coolly) 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. 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 (going up close to her for greater emphasis). 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 (rising impatiently). 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. (Before Nicola can retort, Sergius comes +in. He checks himself a moment on seeing Louka; then goes to the +stove.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (to Nicola). I am not in the way of your work, I hope. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA (in a smooth, elderly manner). 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. (To Louka.) Make that table +tidy, Louka, for the Major. (He goes out sedately.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. Let me see: is there a mark there? (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.) +Ffff! Does it hurt? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. Yes. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. Shall I cure it? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (instantly withdrawing herself proudly, but still not +looking at him). No. You cannot cure it now. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (masterfully). Quite sure? (He makes a movement as if +to take her in his arms.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. Don't trifle with me, please. An officer should not +trifle with a servant. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (touching the arm with a merciless stroke of his +forefinger). That was no trifle, Louka. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. No. (Looking at him for the first time.) Are you sorry? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (with measured emphasis, folding his arms). I am never +sorry. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (wistfully). 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 (unaffectedly, relaxing his attitude). 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. 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 (with bitter levity.) 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 (with a short, bitter +laugh) I am an officer. Oh, (fervently) 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. 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 (ironically). Indeed! I am willing to be instructed. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. 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 (with subdued passion) 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. What would you do, most noble Empress? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. 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 (carried away). 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. 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 (recoiling). The Swiss! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. A man worth ten of you. Then you can come to me; and I +will refuse you. You are not good enough for me. (She turns to +the door.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (springing after her and catching her fiercely in his +arms). I will kill the Swiss; and afterwards I will do as I +please with you. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (in his arms, passive and steadfast). The Swiss will kill +you, perhaps. He has beaten you in love. He may beat you in war. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (tormentedly). 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. Do you think she would believe the Swiss if he told her +now that I am in your arms? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (releasing her in despair). Damnation! Oh, damnation! +Mockery, mockery everywhere: everything I think is mocked by +everything I do. (He strikes himself frantically on the breast.) +Coward, liar, fool! Shall I kill myself like a man, or live and +pretend to laugh at myself? (She again turns to go.) Louka! (She +stops near the door.) Remember: you belong to me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (quietly). What does that mean—an insult? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (commandingly). 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 (vehemently) 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. We shall see whether you dare keep your word. But take +care. I will not wait long. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (again folding his arms and standing motionless in the +middle of the room). Yes, we shall see. And you shall wait my +pleasure. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (absently, sitting at the table as before, and +putting down his papers). That's a remarkable looking young +woman. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (gravely, without moving). Captain Bluntschli. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. Eh? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. 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 (staring, but sitting quite at his ease). 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 (flushing, but with deadly coldness). 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 (warmly). 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 (fiercely delighted to find his opponent a man of +spirit). Well said, Switzer. Shall I lend you my best horse? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. No: damn your horse!—-thank you all the same, my +dear fellow. (Raina comes in, and hears the next sentence.) 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 (hurrying forward anxiously). I have heard what Captain +Bluntschli said, Sergius. You are going to fight. Why? (Sergius +turns away in silence, and goes to the stove, where he stands +watching her as she continues, to Bluntschli) What about? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. 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 (turning away deeply hurt, almost with a sob in her +voice). I never said I wanted to see you again. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (striding forward). Ha! That is a confession. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (haughtily). What do you mean? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. You love that man! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (scandalized). Sergius! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. 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 (jumping up indignantly). 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 (forgetting herself). Oh! (Collapsing on the ottoman.) +Are you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. 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 (interrupting him pepperily). 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 (taken aback). Bluntschli! Raina: is this true? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (rising in wrathful majesty). Oh, how dare you, how dare +you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. Apologize, man, apologize! (He resumes his seat at +the table.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (with the old measured emphasis, folding his arms). I +never apologize. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (passionately). This is the doing of that friend of +yours, Captain Bluntschli. It is he who is spreading this +horrible story about me. (She walks about excitedly.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. No: he's dead—burnt alive. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (stopping, shocked). Burnt alive! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. How horrible! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. 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 (outraged). Like love! You say that before me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. Come, Saranoff: that matter is explained. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. 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. Who then? (Suddenly guessing the truth.) 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! (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) 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 (with grim humor). You saw that? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Only too well. (She turns away, and throws herself on the +divan under the centre window, quite overcome.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (cynically). Raina: our romance is shattered. Life's a +farce. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (to Raina, goodhumoredly). You see: he's found +himself out now. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. 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. 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. 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 (apologetically). 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 (riling). 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. Rival!! (Striking his forehead.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Did you not know that they are engaged? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. Nicola! Are fresh abysses opening! Nicola!! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (sarcastically). 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 (losing all self-control). Viper! Viper! (He rushes to +and fro, raging.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. Look here, Saranoff; you're getting the worst of +this. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (getting angrier). 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. False! Monstrous! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Monstrous! (Confronting him.) Do you deny that she told +you about Captain Bluntschli being in my room? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. No; but— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (interrupting). Do you deny that you were making love to +her when she told you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. No; but I tell you— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (cutting him short contemptuously). It is unnecessary to +tell us anything more. That is quite enough for us. (She turns +her back on him and sweeps majestically back to the window.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (quietly, as Sergius, in an agony of mortification, +sinks on the ottoman, clutching his averted head between his +fists). I told you you were getting the worst of it, Saranoff. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. Tiger cat! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (running excitedly to Bluntschli). You hear this man +calling me names, Captain Bluntschli? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. What else can he do, dear lady? He must defend +himself somehow. Come (very persuasively), don't quarrel. What +good does it do? (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. Engaged to Nicola! (He rises.) Ha! ha! (Going to the +stove and standing with his back to it.) Ah, well, Bluntschli, +you are right to take this huge imposture of a world coolly. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (to Bluntschli with an intuitive guess at his state of +mind). I daresay you think us a couple of grown up babies, don't +you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (grinning a little). He does, he does. Swiss +civilization nursetending Bulgarian barbarism, eh? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (blushing). 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. Listening at the door, probably. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (shivering as if a bullet had struck him, and speaking +with quiet but deep indignation). I will prove that that, at +least, is a calumny. (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) Judge her, Bluntschli—you, +the moderate, cautious man: judge the eavesdropper. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (Louka stands her ground, proud and silent.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (shaking his head). 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. My love was at stake. (Sergius flinches, ashamed of her +in spite of himself.) I am not ashamed. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (contemptuously). Your love! Your curiosity, you mean. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (facing her and retorting her contempt with interest). My +love, stronger than anything you can feel, even for your +chocolate cream soldier. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (with quick suspicion—to Louka). What does that mean? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (fiercely). It means— +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (interrupting her slightingly). Oh, I remember, the ice +pudding. A paltry taunt, girl. +</P> + +<P CLASS="stage"> + (Major Petkoff enters, in his shirtsleeves.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. 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. (He looks more attentively at them.) Is anything the +matter? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. No. (She sits down at the stove with a tranquil air.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. Oh, no! (He sits down at the end of the table, as at +first.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (who is already seated). Nothing, nothing. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (sitting down on the ottoman in his old place). That's +all right. (He notices Louka.) Anything the matter, Louka? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. No, sir. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (genially). That's all right. (He sneezes.) Go and ask +your mistress for my coat, like a good girl, will you? (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.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (rising quickly, as she sees the coat on Nicola's arm). +Here it is, papa. Give it to me, Nicola; and do you put some +more wood on the fire. (She takes the coat, and brings it to the +Major, who stands up to put it on. Nicola attends to the fire.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (to Raina, teasing her affectionately). 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 (with solemn reproach). Ah, how can you say that to me, +father? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. Well, well, only a joke, little one. Come, give me a +kiss. (She kisses him.) Now give me the coat. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Now, I am going to put it on for you. Turn your back. (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.) There, dear! Now are you +comfortable? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. Quite, little love. Thanks. (He sits down; and Raina +returns to her seat near the stove.) Oh, by the bye, I've found +something funny. What's the meaning of this? (He put his hand +into the picked pocket.) Eh? Hallo! (He tries the other pocket.) +Well, I could have sworn—(Much puzzled, he tries the breast +pocket.) I wonder—(Tries the original pocket.) Where can +it—(A light flashes on him; he rises, exclaiming) Your mother's +taken it. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (very red). Taken what? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. 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. (Shouting) Nicola! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA (dropping a log, and turning). Sir! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. Did you spoil any pastry of Miss Raina's this morning? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA. You heard Miss Raina say that I did, sir. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. I know that, you idiot. Was it true? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA. I am sure Miss Raina is incapable of saying anything +that is not true, sir. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. Are you? Then I'm not. (Turning to the others.) Come: +do you think I don't see it all? (Goes to Sergius, and slaps him +on the shoulder.) Sergius: you're the chocolate cream soldier, +aren't you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (starting up). I! a chocolate cream soldier! Certainly +not. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. Not! (He looks at them. They are all very serious and +very conscious.) Do you mean to tell me that Raina sends +photographic souvenirs to other men? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (enigmatically). The world is not such an innocent +place as we used to think, Petkoff. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (rising). It's all right, Major. I'm the chocolate +cream soldier. (Petkoff and Sergius are equally astonished.) 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. You! (He gasps.) Sergius: do you remember how those two +women went on this morning when we mentioned it? (Sergius smiles +cynically. Petkoff confronts Raina severely.) You're a nice young +woman, aren't you? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (bitterly). 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 (much startled protesting vehemently). I'm not +married. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (with deep reproach). You said you were. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. I did not. I positively did not. I never was married +in my life. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (exasperated). Raina: will you kindly inform me, if I +am not asking too much, which gentleman you are engaged to? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. To neither of them. This young lady (introducing Louka, +who faces them all proudly) is the object of Major Saranoff's +affections at present. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. Louka! Are you mad, Sergius? Why, this girl's engaged +to Nicola. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +NICOLA (coming forward ). I beg your pardon, sir. There is a +mistake. Louka is not engaged to me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. 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 (with cool unction). 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. (He goes out with impressive discretion, leaving +them all staring after him.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF (breaking the silence). Well, I am—-hm! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. This is either the finest heroism or the most crawling +baseness. Which is it, Bluntschli? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. 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 (suddenly breaking out at Sergius). I have been insulted +by everyone here. You set them the example. You owe me an +apology. (Sergius immediately, like a repeating clock of which +the spring has been touched, begins to fold his arms.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (before he can speak). It's no use. He never +apologizes. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. Not to you, his equal and his enemy. To me, his poor +servant, he will not refuse to apologize. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (approvingly). You are right. (He bends his knee in his +grandest manner.) Forgive me! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. I forgive you. (She timidly gives him her hand, which he +kisses.) That touch makes me your affianced wife. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (springing up). Ah, I forgot that! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (coldly). You can withdraw if you like. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. Withdraw! Never! You belong to me! (He puts his arm +about her and draws her to him.) (Catherine comes in and finds +Louka in Sergius's arms, and all the rest gazing at them in +bewildered astonishment.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. What does this mean? (Sergius releases Louka.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. Well, my dear, it appears that Sergius is going to +marry Louka instead of Raina. (She is about to break out +indignantly at him: he stops her by exclaiming testily.) Don't +blame me: I've nothing to do with it. (He retreats to the +stove.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Marry Louka! Sergius: you are bound by your word to +us! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (folding his arms). Nothing binds me. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (much pleased by this piece of common sense). +Saranoff: your hand. My congratulations. These heroics of yours +have their practical side after all. (To Louka.) Gracious young +lady: the best wishes of a good Republican! (He kisses her hand, +to Raina's great disgust.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (threateningly). Louka: you have been telling +stories. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. I have done Raina no harm. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (haughtily). Raina! (Raina is equally indignant at +the liberty.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA. 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 (surprised). Hallo! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +LOUKA (turning to Raina). I thought you were fonder of him than +of Sergius. You know best whether I was right. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. 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 (starting as if a needle had pricked him and +interrupting Bluntschli in incredulous amazement). Excuse me, +Bluntschli: what did you say had spoiled your chances in life? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (promptly). 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. 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. (This estimate produces a marked sensation, all the +rest turning and staring at one another. He proceeds +innocently.) 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! (He takes the photograph from the +table.) 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"? (He exhibits the +photograph triumphantly, as if it settled the matter beyond all +possibility of refutation.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. That's what I was looking for. How the deuce did it get +there? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (to Raina complacently). I have put everything +right, I hope, gracious young lady! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (in uncontrollable vexation). I quite agree with your +account of yourself. You are a romantic idiot. (Bluntschli is +unspeakably taken aback.) 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 (stupefied). Twenty-three! (She snaps the photograph +contemptuously from his hand; tears it across; and throws the +pieces at his feet.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS (with grim enjoyment of Bluntschli's discomfiture). +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 (overwhelmed). Twenty-three! Twenty-three!! (He +considers.) Hm! (Swiftly making up his mind.) 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. You dare! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. If you were twenty-three when you said those things +to me this afternoon, I shall take them seriously. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (loftily polite). 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. Oh, never mind that, Catherine. (To Bluntschli.) 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. But what on earth is the use of twenty horses? Why, +it's a circus. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE (severely). My daughter, sir, is accustomed to a +first-rate stable. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA. Hush, mother, you're making me ridiculous. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. Oh, well, if it comes to a question of an +establishment, here goes! (He goes impetuously to the table and +seizes the papers in the blue envelope.) How many horses did you +say? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. Twenty, noble Switzer! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. I have two hundred horses. (They are amazed.) How +many carriages? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. Three. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. How the deuce do I know? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. Have you four thousand? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. NO. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. 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 (with childish awe). Are you Emperor of Switzerland? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. My rank is the highest known in Switzerland: I'm a +free citizen. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +CATHERINE. Then Captain Bluntschli, since you are my daughter's +choice, I shall not stand in the way of her happiness. (Petkoff +is about to speak.) That is Major Petkoff's feeling also. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +PETKOFF. Oh, I shall be only too glad. Two hundred horses! Whew! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. What says the lady? +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (pretending to sulk). 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. 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 (interrupting him). I did not give them to the Emperor of +Switzerland! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI. That's just what I say. (He catches her hand quickly +and looks her straight in the face as he adds, with confident +mastery) Now tell us who you did give them to. +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +RAINA (succumbing with a shy smile). To my chocolate cream +soldier! +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +BLUNTSCHLI (with a boyish laugh of delight). That'll do. Thank +you. (Looks at his watch and suddenly becomes businesslike.) +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. (He makes them a military bow, and goes.) +</P> + +<P CLASS="dialog"> +SERGIUS. What a man! What a man! +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Arms and the Man, by George Bernard Shaw + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARMS AND THE MAN *** + +***** This file should be named 3618-h.htm or 3618-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/1/3618/ + +Produced by Jim Tinsley <jtinsley@pobox.com> with help +from the distributed proofreaders at +http://charlz.dynip.com/gutenberg + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions 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. 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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 www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Arms and the Man + +Author: George Bernard Shaw + +Posting Date: November 21, 2010 [EBook #3618] +Release Date: January, 2003 +First Posted: June 17, 2001 +Last Updated: June 21, 2015 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARMS AND THE MAN *** + + + + +Produced by Jim Tinsley <jtinsley@pobox.com> with help +from the distributed proofreaders at +http://charlz.dynip.com/gutenberg + + + + + + + + + + +Arms and the Man + +by George Bernard Shaw + + + + +INTRODUCTION + +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 +dramatic art than, according to his own story in "The Man of Destiny," +Napoleon at Tavazzano knew of the Art of War. 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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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? + +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. + +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. + +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. Candida 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. + +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. + +"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. Gloria 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. +Crampton, 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. + +The waiter, William, 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. + +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. + +M. + + + + + + +ARMS AND THE MAN + +ACT I + + 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. + + 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. + + 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. + +CATHERINE (entering hastily, full of good news). Raina--(she +pronounces it Rah-eena, with the stress on the ee) Raina--(she +goes to the bed, expecting to find Raina there.) Why, +where--(Raina looks into the room.) 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. + +RAINA (coming in). I sent her away. I wanted to be alone. The +stars are so beautiful! What is the matter? + +CATHERINE. Such news. There has been a battle! + +RAINA (her eyes dilating). Ah! (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.) + +CATHERINE. A great battle at Slivnitza! A victory! And it was +won by Sergius. + +RAINA (with a cry of delight). Ah! (Rapturously.) Oh, mother! +(Then, with sudden anxiety) Is father safe? + +CATHERINE. Of course: he sent me the news. Sergius is the hero +of the hour, the idol of the regiment. + +RAINA. Tell me, tell me. How was it! (Ecstatically) Oh, mother, +mother, mother! (Raina pulls her mother down on the ottoman; and +they kiss one another frantically.) + +CATHERINE (with surging enthusiasm). 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. + +RAINA. 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! (She rises and walks about excitedly.) It +proves that all our ideas were real after all. + +CATHERINE (indignantly). Our ideas real! What do you mean? + +RAINA. 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--(Quickly.) Promise me you'll never tell him. + +CATHERINE. Don't ask me for promises until I know what I am +promising. + +RAINA. 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. (Remorsefully.) 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. + +CATHERINE. 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. + +RAINA (laughing and sitting down again). 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! (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.) + +LOUKA. 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. (Raina and Catherine rise together, alarmed.) 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. (She goes out on the balcony and pulls +the outside shutters to; then steps back into the room.) + +RAINA. I wish our people were not so cruel. What glory is there +in killing wretched fugitives? + +CATHERINE (business-like, her housekeeping instincts aroused). +I must see that everything is made safe downstairs. + +RAINA (to Louka). Leave the shutters so that I can just close +them if I hear any noise. + +CATHERINE (authoritatively, turning on her way to the door). +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. + +LOUKA. Yes, madam. (She fastens them.) + +RAINA. 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. + +CATHERINE. Quite the wisest thing you can do, my love. +Good-night. + +RAINA. Good-night. (They kiss one another, and Raina's emotion +comes back for a moment.) Wish me joy of the happiest night of +my life--if only there are no fugitives. + +CATHERINE. Go to bed, dear; and don't think of them. (She goes +out.) + +LOUKA (secretly, to Raina). If you would like the shutters +open, just give them a push like this. (She pushes them: they +open: she pulls them to again.) One of them ought to be bolted +at the bottom; but the bolt's gone. + +RAINA (with dignity, reproving her). Thanks, Louka; but we must +do what we are told. (Louka makes a grimace.) Good-night. + +LOUKA (carelessly). Good-night. (She goes out, swaggering.) + + (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.) + +RAINA (looking up at the picture with worship.) Oh, I shall +never be unworthy of you any more, my hero--never, never, never. + + (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) + +My hero! my hero! + + (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.) + +RAINA (crouching on the bed). Who's there? (The match is out +instantly.) Who's there? Who is that? + +A MAN'S VOICE (in the darkness, subduedly, but threateningly). +Sh--sh! Don't call out or you'll be shot. Be good; and no harm +will happen to you. (She is heard leaving her bed, and making +for the door.) Take care, there's no use in trying to run away. +Remember, if you raise your voice my pistol will go off. +(Commandingly.) Strike a light and let me see you. Do you hear? +(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) Excuse my disturbing you; +but you recognise my uniform--Servian. If I'm caught I shall be +killed. (Determinedly.) Do you understand that? + +RAINA. Yes. + +MAN. Well, I don't intend to get killed if I can help it. (Still +more determinedly.) Do you understand that? (He locks the door +with a snap.) + +RAINA (disdainfully). I suppose not. (She draws herself up +superbly, and looks him straight in the face, saying with +emphasis) Some soldiers, I know, are afraid of death. + +MAN (with grim goodhumor). 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-- + +RAINA (cutting him short). You will shoot me. How do you know +that I am afraid to die? + +MAN (cunningly). 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? (Raina, suddenly +conscious of her nightgown, instinctively shrinks and gathers it +more closely about her. He watches her, and adds, pitilessly) +It's rather scanty, eh? (She turns to the ottoman. He raises his +pistol instantly, and cries) Stop! (She stops.) Where are you +going? + +RAINA (with dignified patience). Only to get my cloak. + +MAN (darting to the ottoman and snatching the cloak). 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. (He throws the pistol down on the ottoman.) + +RAINA (revolted). It is not the weapon of a gentleman! + +MAN. It's good enough for a man with only you to stand between +him and death. (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) Do you hear? If you are going +to bring those scoundrels in on me you shall receive them as you +are. (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) No use: I'm +done for. Quick! wrap yourself up: they're coming! + +RAINA (catching the cloak eagerly). Oh, thank you. (She wraps +herself up with great relief. He draws his sabre and turns to +the door, waiting.) + +LOUKA (outside, knocking). My lady, my lady! Get up, quick, and +open the door. + +RAINA (anxiously). What will you do? + +MAN (grimly). Never mind. Keep out of the way. It will not last +long. + +RAINA (impulsively). I'll help you. Hide yourself, oh, hide +yourself, quick, behind the curtain. (She seizes him by a torn +strip of his sleeve, and pulls him towards the window.) + +MAN (yielding to her). There is just half a chance, if you keep +your head. Remember: nine soldiers out of ten are born fools. +(He hides behind the curtain, looking out for a moment to say, +finally) If they find me, I promise you a fight--a devil of a +fight! (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.) + +LOUKA. 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. + +RAINA (as if annoyed at being disturbed). They shall not search +here. Why have they been let in? + +CATHERINE (coming in hastily). Raina, darling, are you safe? +Have you seen anyone or heard anything? + +RAINA. I heard the shooting. Surely the soldiers will not dare +come in here? + +CATHERINE. I have found a Russian officer, thank Heaven: he +knows Sergius. (Speaking through the door to someone outside.) +Sir, will you come in now! My daughter is ready. + + (A young Russian officer, in Bulgarian uniform, + enters, sword in hand.) + +THE OFFICER. (with soft, feline politeness and stiff military +carriage). 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? + +RAINA (petulantly). Nonsense, sir, you can see that there is no +one on the balcony. (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.) + +THE OFFICER. (on the balcony, shouting savagely down to the +street). Cease firing there, you fools: do you hear? Cease +firing, damn you. (He glares down for a moment; then turns to +Raina, trying to resume his polite manner.) Could anyone have +got in without your knowledge? Were you asleep? + +RAINA. No, I have not been to bed. + +THE OFFICER. (impatiently, coming back into the room). Your +neighbours have their heads so full of runaway Servians that +they see them everywhere. (Politely.) Gracious lady, a thousand +pardons. Good-night. (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.) + +RAINA. Don't leave my mother, Louka, whilst the soldiers are +here. (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.) + +MAN. 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. + +RAINA (haughtily). 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! + +MAN. 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. + +RAINA. Have I not been generous? + +MAN. 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? + +RAINA. Oh, no: I am sorry you will have to go into danger again. +(Motioning towards ottoman.) Won't you sit--(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.) + +MAN (irritably). Don't frighten me like that. What is it? + +RAINA. Your pistol! It was staring that officer in the face all +the time. What an escape! + +MAN (vexed at being unnecessarily terrified). Oh, is that all? + +RAINA (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 am sorry I frightened +you. (She takes up the pistol and hands it to him.) Pray take it +to protect yourself against me. + +MAN (grinning wearily at the sarcasm as he takes the pistol). +No use, dear young lady: there's nothing in it. It's not loaded. +(He makes a grimace at it, and drops it disparagingly into his +revolver case.) + +RAINA. Load it by all means. + +MAN. I've no ammunition. What use are cartridges in battle? I +always carry chocolate instead; and I finished the last cake of +that yesterday. + +RAINA (outraged in her most cherished ideals of manhood). +Chocolate! Do you stuff your pockets with sweets--like a +schoolboy--even in the field? + +MAN. Yes. Isn't it contemptible? + + (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.) + +RAINA. Allow me. I am sorry I have eaten them all except these. +(She offers him the box.) + +MAN (ravenously). You're an angel! (He gobbles the comfits.) +Creams! Delicious! (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) 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. (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.) +Ugh! Don't do things so suddenly, gracious lady. Don't revenge +yourself because I frightened you just now. + +RAINA (superbly). Frighten me! Do you know, sir, that though I +am only a woman, I think I am at heart as brave as you. + +MAN. 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. (He +sits down on the ottoman, and takes his head in his hands.) +Would you like to see me cry? + +RAINA (quickly). No. + +MAN. 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. + +RAINA (a little moved). I'm sorry. I won't scold you. (Touched +by the sympathy in her tone, he raises his head and looks +gratefully at her: she immediately draws back and says stiffly) +You must excuse me: our soldiers are not like that. (She moves +away from the ottoman.) + +MAN. 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. (Indignantly.) I never saw anything so +unprofessional. + +RAINA (ironically). Oh, was it unprofessional to beat you? + +MAN. 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. + +RAINA (eagerly turning to him, as all her enthusiasm and her +dream of glory rush back on her). Did you see the great cavalry +charge? Oh, tell me about it. Describe it to me. + +MAN. You never saw a cavalry charge, did you? + +RAINA. How could I? + +MAN. 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. + +RAINA (her eyes dilating as she raises her clasped hands +ecstatically). Yes, first One!--the bravest of the brave! + +MAN (prosaically). Hm! you should see the poor devil pulling at +his horse. + +RAINA. Why should he pull at his horse? + +MAN (impatient of so stupid a question). 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. + +RAINA. Ugh! But I don't believe the first man is a coward. I +believe he is a hero! + +MAN (goodhumoredly). That's what you'd have said if you'd seen +the first man in the charge to-day. + +RAINA (breathless). Ah, I knew it! Tell me--tell me about him. + +MAN. 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. + +RAINA (deeply wounded, but steadfastly loyal to her ideals). +Indeed! Would you know him again if you saw him? + +MAN. Shall I ever forget him. (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.) + +RAINA. That is a photograph of the gentleman--the patriot and +hero--to whom I am betrothed. + +MAN (looking at it). I'm really very sorry. (Looking at her.) +Was it fair to lead me on? (He looks at the portrait again.) +Yes: that's him: not a doubt of it. (He stifles a laugh.) + +RAINA (quickly). Why do you laugh? + +MAN (shamefacedly, but still greatly tickled). 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--(chokes with suppressed laughter). + +RAINA (sternly). Give me back the portrait, sir. + +MAN (with sincere remorse). Of course. Certainly. I'm really +very sorry. (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.) 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. + +RAINA. That is to say, he was a pretender and a coward! You did +not dare say that before. + +MAN (with a comic gesture of despair). It's no use, dear lady: +I can't make you see it from the professional point of view. (As +he turns away to get back to the ottoman, the firing begins +again in the distance.) + +RAINA (sternly, as she sees him listening to the shots). So +much the better for you. + +MAN (turning). How? + +RAINA. You are my enemy; and you are at my mercy. What would I +do if I were a professional soldier? + +MAN. 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. + +RAINA (coldly). 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. (She turns to +the window.) + +MAN (changing countenance). 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!--(He sinks on the ottoman.) It's no use: I give up: +I'm beaten. Give the alarm. (He drops his head in his hands in +the deepest dejection.) + +RAINA (disarmed by pity). Come, don't be disheartened. (She +stoops over him almost maternally: he shakes his head.) 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. + +MAN (dreamily, lulled by her voice). 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. + +RAINA (softly and wonderingly, catching the rhythm of his +weariness). Are you so sleepy as that? + +MAN. 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. + +RAINA (desperately). But what am I to do with you. + +MAN (staggering up). Of course I must do something. (He shakes +himself; pulls himself together; and speaks with rallied vigour +and courage.) 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--(He hits himself +on the chest, and adds)--Do you hear that, you chocolate cream +soldier? (He turns to the window.) + +RAINA (anxiously). But if you fall? + +MAN. I shall sleep as if the stones were a feather bed. +Good-bye. (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.) + +RAINA (rushing to him). Stop! (She catches him by the shoulder, +and turns him quite round.) They'll kill you. + +MAN (coolly, but attentively). Never mind: this sort of thing +is all in my day's work. I'm bound to take my chance. +(Decisively.) 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. + +RAINA (clinging to him). 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? + +MAN. I really don't want to be troublesome. (She shakes him in +her impatience.) I am not indifferent, dear young lady, I assure +you. But how is it to be done? + +RAINA. Come away from the window--please. (She coaxes him back +to the middle of the room. He submits humbly. She releases him, +and addresses him patronizingly.) Now listen. You must trust to +our hospitality. You do not yet know in whose house you are. I +am a Petkoff. + +MAN. What's that? + +RAINA (rather indignantly). I mean that I belong to the family +of the Petkoffs, the richest and best known in our country. + +MAN. Oh, yes, of course. I beg your pardon. The Petkoffs, to be +sure. How stupid of me! + +RAINA. You know you never heard of them until this minute. How +can you stoop to pretend? + +MAN. Forgive me: I'm too tired to think; and the change of +subject was too much for me. Don't scold me. + +RAINA. I forgot. It might make you cry. (He nods, quite +seriously. She pouts and then resumes her patronizing tone.) I +must tell you that my father holds the highest command of any +Bulgarian in our army. He is (proudly) a Major. + +MAN (pretending to be deeply impressed). A Major! Bless me! +Think of that! + +RAINA. 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. + +MAN. Stairs! How grand! You live in great luxury indeed, dear +young lady. + +RAINA. Do you know what a library is? + +MAN. A library? A roomful of books. + +RAINA. Yes, we have one, the only one in Bulgaria. + +MAN. Actually a real library! I should like to see that. + +RAINA (affectedly). 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. + +MAN. I saw that, dear young lady. I saw at once that you knew +the world. + +RAINA. Have you ever seen the opera of Ernani? + +MAN. Is that the one with the devil in it in red velvet, and a +soldier's chorus? + +RAINA (contemptuously). No! + +MAN (stifling a heavy sigh of weariness). Then I don't know it. + +RAINA. 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. + +MAN (quickly waking up a little). Have your people got that +notion? + +RAINA (with dignity). 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. + +MAN. Quite sure? + +RAINA (turning her back on him in disgust.) Oh, it is useless +to try and make you understand. + +MAN. 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? + +RAINA. 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? (She offers him her hand.) + +MAN (looking dubiously at his own hand). Better not touch my +hand, dear young lady. I must have a wash first. + +RAINA (touched). That is very nice of you. I see that you are a +gentleman. + +MAN (puzzled). Eh? + +RAINA. 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. +(She offers it again.) + +MAN (kissing it with his hands behind his back). 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. + +RAINA. If you will be so good as to keep perfectly still whilst +I am away. + +MAN. Certainly. (He sits down on the ottoman.) + + (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.) + +RAINA (at the door). You are not going asleep, are you? +(He murmurs inarticulately: she runs to him and shakes him.) +Do you hear? Wake up: you are falling asleep. + +MAN. Eh? Falling aslee--? Oh, no, not the least in +the world: I was only thinking. It's all right: I'm wide +awake. + +RAINA (severely). Will you please stand up while I am +away. (He rises reluctantly.) All the time, mind. + +MAN (standing unsteadily). Certainly--certainly: you +may depend on me. + + (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.) + +MAN (drowsily). Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, slee--(The +words trail off into a murmur. He wakes again with a +shock on the point of falling.) Where am I? That's what +I want to know: where am I? Must keep awake. Nothing +keeps me awake except danger--remember that--(intently) +danger, danger, danger, dan-- Where's danger? Must +find it. (He starts of vaguely around the room in search of +it.) What am I looking for? Sleep--danger--don't know. +(He stumbles against the bed.) 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. (He sits on the bed. A blissful expression +comes into his face.) Ah! (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.) + + (Catherine comes in, followed by Raina.) + +RAINA (looking at the ottoman). He's gone! I left him +here. + +CATHERINE, Here! Then he must have climbed down from the-- + +RAINA (seeing him). Oh! (She points.) + +CATHERINE (scandalized). Well! (She strides to the left +side of the bed, Raina following and standing opposite her on +the right.) He's fast asleep. The brute! + +RAINA (anxiously). Sh! + +CATHERINE (shaking him). Sir! (Shaking him again, +harder.) Sir!! (Vehemently shaking very bard.) Sir!!! + +RAINA (catching her arm). Don't, mamma: the poor dear +is worn out. Let him sleep. + +CATHERINE (letting him go and turning amazed to Raina). +The poor dear! Raina!!! (She looks sternly at her +daughter. The man sleeps profoundly.) + + + + +ACT II + + 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. + + 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. + +NICOLA. 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. + +LOUKA. I do defy her. I will defy her. What do I care for her? + +NICOLA. If you quarrel with the family, I never can marry you. +It's the same as if you quarrelled with me! + +LOUKA. You take her part against me, do you? + +NICOLA (sedately). 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. + +LOUKA. You have no spirit. I should like to see them dare say a +word against me! + +NICOLA (pityingly). I should have expected more sense from you, +Louka. But you're young, you're young! + +LOUKA. 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! + +NICOLA (with compassionate superiority). Do you know what they +would do if they heard you talk like that? + +LOUKA. What could they do? + +NICOLA. 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? (She impatiently throws away the end of her cigaret, and +stamps on it.) 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. (He goes close to her and lowers his +voice.) 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-- + +LOUKA (turning on him quickly). How do you know? I never told +you! + +NICOLA (opening his eyes cunningly). 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. + +LOUKA (with searching scorn). You have the soul of a servant, +Nicola. + +NICOLA (complacently). Yes: that's the secret of success in +service. + + (A loud knocking with a whip handle on a wooden + door, outside on the left, is heard.) + +MALE VOICE OUTSIDE. Hollo! Hollo there! Nicola! + +LOUKA. Master! back from the war! + +NICOLA (quickly). My word for it, Louka, the war's over. Off +with you and get some fresh coffee. (He runs out into the stable +yard.) + +LOUKA (as she puts the coffee pot and the cups upon the tray, +and carries it into the house). You'll never put the soul of a +servant into me. + + (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.) + +PETKOFF (pointing to the table with his whip). Breakfast out +here, eh? + +NICOLA. Yes, sir. The mistress and Miss Raina have just gone in. + +PETKOFF (fitting down and taking a roll). Go in and say I've +come; and get me some fresh coffee. + +NICOLA. It's coming, sir. (He goes to the house door. Louka, +with fresh coffee, a clean cup, and a brandy bottle on her tray +meets him.) Have you told the mistress? + +LOUKA. Yes: she's coming. + + (Nicola goes into the house. Louka brings the + coffee to the table.) + +PETKOFF. Well, the Servians haven't run away with you, have +they? + +LOUKA. No, sir. + +PETKOFF. That's right. Have you brought me some cognac? + +LOUKA (putting the bottle on the table). Here, sir. + +PETKOFF. That's right. (He pours some into his coffee.) + + (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.) + +CATHERINE. My dear Paul, what a surprise for us. (She stoops +over the back of his chair to kiss him.) Have they brought you +fresh coffee? + +PETKOFF. 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. + +CATHERINE (springing erect, with flashing eyes). The war over! +Paul: have you let the Austrians force you to make peace? + +PETKOFF (submissively). My dear: they didn't consult me. What +could _I_ do? (She sits down and turns away from him.) But of +course we saw to it that the treaty was an honorable one. It +declares peace-- + +CATHERINE (outraged). Peace! + +PETKOFF (appeasing her).--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? + +CATHERINE. You could have annexed Servia and made Prince +Alexander Emperor of the Balkans. That's what I would have done. + +PETKOFF. 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. + +CATHERINE (relenting). Ah! (Stretches her hand affectionately +across the table to squeeze his.) + +PETKOFF. And how have you been, my dear? + +CATHERINE. Oh, my usual sore throats, that's all. + +PETKOFF (with conviction). That comes from washing your neck +every day. I've often told you so. + +CATHERINE. Nonsense, Paul! + +PETKOFF (over his coffee and cigaret). 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. + +CATHERINE. You are a barbarian at heart still, Paul. I hope you +behaved yourself before all those Russian officers. + +PETKOFF. I did my best. I took care to let them know that we had +a library. + +CATHERINE. Ah; but you didn't tell them that we have an electric +bell in it? I have had one put up. + +PETKOFF. What's an electric bell? + +CATHERINE. You touch a button; something tinkles in the kitchen; +and then Nicola comes up. + +PETKOFF. Why not shout for him? + +CATHERINE. Civilized people never shout for their servants. I've +learnt that while you were away. + +PETKOFF. 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 (indicating +the clothes on the bushes) put somewhere else. + +CATHERINE. Oh, that's absurd, Paul: I don't believe really +refined people notice such things. + + (Someone is heard knocking at the stable gates.) + +PETKOFF. There's Sergius. (Shouting.) Hollo, Nicola! + +CATHERINE. Oh, don't shout, Paul: it really isn't nice. + +PETKOFF. Bosh! (He shouts louder than before.) Nicola! + +NICOLA (appearing at the house door). Yes, sir. + +PETKOFF. If that is Major Saranoff, bring him round this way. +(He pronounces the name with the stress on the second +syllable--Sarah-noff.) + +NICOLA. Yes, sir. (He goes into the stable yard.) + +PETKOFF. 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. + +CATHERINE. He certainly ought to be promoted when he marries +Raina. Besides, the country should insist on having at least one +native general. + +PETKOFF. 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. + +NICOLA (at the gate, announcing). Major Sergius Saranoff! (He +goes into the house and returns presently with a third chair, +which he places at the table. He then withdraws.) + + (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.) + +PETKOFF. Here already, Sergius. Glad to see you! + +CATHERINE. My dear Sergius!(She holds out both her hands.) + +SERGIUS (kissing them with scrupulous gallantry). My dear +mother, if I may call you so. + +PETKOFF (drily). Mother-in-law, Sergius; mother-in-law! Sit +down, and have some coffee. + +SERGIUS. Thank you, none for me. (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.) + +CATHERINE. 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. + +SERGIUS (with grave irony). Madam: it was the cradle and the +grave of my military reputation. + +CATHERINE. How so? + +SERGIUS. 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. + +CATHERINE. You shall not remain so, Sergius. The women are on +your side; and they will see that justice is done you. + +SERGIUS. It is too late. I have only waited for the peace to +send in my resignation. + +PETKOFF (dropping his cup in his amazement). Your resignation! + +CATHERINE. Oh, you must withdraw it! + +SERGIUS (with resolute, measured emphasis, folding his arms). I +never withdraw! + +PETKOFF (vexed). Now who could have supposed you were going to +do such a thing? + +SERGIUS (with fire). Everyone that knew me. But enough of +myself and my affairs. How is Raina; and where is Raina? + +RAINA (suddenly coming round the corner of the house and +standing at the top of the steps in the path). Raina is here. +(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.) + +PETKOFF (aside to Catherine, beaming with parental pride). +Pretty, isn't it? She always appears at the right moment. + +CATHERINE (impatiently). Yes: she listens for it. It is an +abominable habit. + + (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.) + +RAINA (stooping and kissing her father). Dear father! Welcome +home! + +PETKOFF (patting her cheek). My little pet girl. (He kisses +her; she goes to the chair left by Nicola for Sergius, and sits +down.) + +CATHERINE. And so you're no longer a soldier, Sergius. + +SERGIUS. 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! + +PETKOFF. 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. + +SERGIUS. 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. + +PETKOFF. What, that Swiss fellow? Sergius: I've often thought of +that exchange since. He over-reached us about those horses. + +SERGIUS. 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. (With mock enthusiasm.) 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! + +CATHERINE. A Swiss? What was he doing in the Servian army? + +PETKOFF. A volunteer of course--keen on picking up his +profession. (Chuckling.) 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. + +RAINA. Are there many Swiss officers in the Servian Army? + +PETKOFF. 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! + +SERGIUS. We were two children in the hands of that consummate +soldier, Major: simply two innocent little children. + +RAINA. What was he like? + +CATHERINE. Oh, Raina, what a silly question! + +SERGIUS. He was like a commercial traveller in uniform. +Bourgeois to his boots. + +PETKOFF (grinning). 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. + +SERGIUS (with bitter irony). 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. + +RAINA (rising with marked stateliness). Your life in the camp +has made you coarse, Sergius. I did not think you would have +repeated such a story before me. (She turns away coldly.) + +CATHERINE (also rising). She is right, Sergius. If such women +exist, we should be spared the knowledge of them. + +PETKOFF. Pooh! nonsense! what does it matter? + +SERGIUS (ashamed). No, Petkoff: I was wrong. (To Raina, with +earnest humility.) I beg your pardon. I have behaved abominably. +Forgive me, Raina. (She bows reservedly.) And you, too, madam. +(Catherine bows graciously and sits down. He proceeds solemnly, +again addressing Raina.) 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--(Here, turning to the others, he +is evidently about to begin a long speech when the Major +interrupts him.) + +PETKOFF. 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. (He rises.) +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. +(He goes towards the house.) Come along. (Sergius is about to +follow him when Catherine rises and intervenes.) + +CATHERINE. 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. + +SERGIUS (protesting). My dear madam, impossible: you-- + +CATHERINE (stopping him playfully). You stay here, my dear +Sergius: there's no hurry. I have a word or two to say to Paul. +(Sergius instantly bows and steps back.) Now, dear (taking +Petkoff's arm), come and see the electric bell. + +PETKOFF. Oh, very well, very well. (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.) + + (Exit R. into house, followed by Catherine.) + +SERGIUS (hastening to her, but refraining from touching her +without express permission). Am I forgiven? + +RAINA (placing her hands on his shoulder as she looks up at him +with admiration and worship). My hero! My king. + +SERGIUS. My queen! (He kisses her on the forehead with holy +awe.) + +RAINA. 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. + +SERGIUS. 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! + +RAINA. And you have never been absent from my thoughts for a +moment. (Very solemnly.) 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. + +SERGIUS. My lady, and my saint! (Clasping her reverently.) + +RAINA (returning his embrace). My lord and my g-- + +SERGIUS. Sh--sh! Let me be the worshipper, dear. You little know +how unworthy even the best man is of a girl's pure passion! + +RAINA. I trust you. I love you. You will never disappoint me, +Sergius. (Louka is heard singing within the house. They quickly +release each other.) Hush! I can't pretend to talk indifferently +before her: my heart is too full. (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 will go and get my hat; and +then we can go out until lunch time. Wouldn't you like that? + +SERGIUS. Be quick. If you are away five minutes, it will seem +five hours. (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) Louka: do you know what +the higher love is? + +LOUKA (astonished). No, sir. + +SERGIUS. Very fatiguing thing to keep up for any length of time, +Louka. One feels the need of some relief after it. + +LOUKA (innocently). Perhaps you would like some coffee, sir? +(She stretches her hand across the table for the coffee pot.) + +SERGIUS (taking her hand). Thank you, Louka. + +LOUKA (pretending to pull). Oh, sir, you know I didn't mean +that. I'm surprised at you! + +SERGIUS (coming clear of the table and drawing her with him). 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? (Letting go her hand +and slipping his arm dexterously round her waist.) Do you +consider my figure handsome, Louka? + +LOUKA. Let me go, sir. I shall be disgraced. (She struggles: he +holds her inexorably.) Oh, will you let go? + +SERGIUS (looking straight into her eyes). No. + +LOUKA. Then stand back where we can't be seen. Have you no +common sense? + +SERGIUS. Ah, that's reasonable. (He takes her into the +stableyard gateway, where they are hidden from the house.) + +LOUKA (complaining). I may have been seen from the windows: +Miss Raina is sure to be spying about after you. + +SERGIUS (stung--letting her go). Take care, Louka. I may be +worthless enough to betray the higher love; but do not you +insult it. + +LOUKA (demurely). Not for the world, sir, I'm sure. May I go on +with my work please, now? + +SERGIUS (again putting his arm round her). You are a provoking +little witch, Louka. If you were in love with me, would you spy +out of windows on me? + +LOUKA. 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. + +SERGIUS (charmed). Witty as well as pretty. (He tries to kiss +her.) + +LOUKA (avoiding him). 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. + +SERGIUS (recoiling a step). Louka! + +LOUKA. It shews how little you really care! + +SERGIUS (dropping his familiarity and speaking with freezing +politeness). 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. + +LOUKA. 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. + +SERGIUS (turning from her and striking his forehead as he comes +back into the garden from the gateway). Devil! devil! + +LOUKA. Ha! ha! I expect one of the six of you is very like me, +sir, though I am only Miss Raina's maid. (She goes back to her +work at the table, taking no further notice of him.) + +SERGIUS (speaking to himself). 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. (He pauses and looks furtively at Louka, as +he adds with deep bitterness) And one, at least, is a +coward--jealous, like all cowards. (He goes to the table.) +Louka. + +LOUKA. Yes? + +SERGIUS. Who is my rival? + +LOUKA. You shall never get that out of me, for love or money. + +SERGIUS. Why? + +LOUKA. Never mind why. Besides, you would tell that I told you; +and I should lose my place. + +SERGIUS (holding out his right hand in affirmation). No; on the +honor of a--(He checks himself, and his hand drops nerveless as +he concludes, sardonically)--of a man capable of behaving as I +have been behaving for the last five minutes. Who is he? + +LOUKA. I don't know. I never saw him. I only heard his voice +through the door of her room. + +SERGIUS. Damnation! How dare you? + +LOUKA (retreating). 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. (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.) + +SERGIUS. Now listen you to me! + +LOUKA (wincing). Not so tight: you're hurting me! + +SERGIUS. That doesn't matter. You have stained my honor by +making me a party to your eavesdropping. And you have betrayed +your mistress-- + +LOUKA (writhing). Please-- + +SERGIUS. That shews that you are an abominable little clod of +common clay, with the soul of a servant. (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.) + +LOUKA (whimpering angrily with her hands up her sleeves, +feeling her bruised arms). 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. (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.) + +SERGIUS. Louka! (She stops and looks defiantly at him with the +tray in her hands.) A gentleman has no right to hurt a woman +under any circumstances. (With profound humility, uncovering his +head.) I beg your pardon. + +LOUKA. That sort of apology may satisfy a lady. Of what use is +it to a servant? + +SERGIUS (thus rudely crossed in his chivalry, throws it off +with a bitter laugh and says slightingly). Oh, you wish to be +paid for the hurt? (He puts on his shako, and takes some money +from his pocket.) + +LOUKA (her eyes filling with tears in spite of herself). No, I +want my hurt made well. + +SERGIUS (sobered by her tone). How? + + (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) + +SERGIUS. Never! (and gets away as far as possible from her.) + + (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.) + +RAINA. I'm ready! What's the matter? (Gaily.) Have you been +flirting with Louka? + +SERGIUS (hastily). No, no. How can you think such a thing? + +RAINA (ashamed of herself). Forgive me, dear: it was only a +jest. I am so happy to-day. + + (He goes quickly to her, and kisses her hand + remorsefully. Catherine comes out and calls + to them from the top of the steps.) + +CATHERINE (coming down to them). 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. + +RAINA (disappointed). But we are just going out for a walk. + +SERGIUS. I shall not be long. Wait for me just five minutes. (He +runs up the steps to the door.) + +RAINA (following him to the foot of the steps and looking up at +him with timid coquetry). 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. + +SERGIUS (laughing). Very well. (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.) + +CATHERINE. 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! + +RAINA (gazing thoughtfully at the gravel as she walks). The +little beast! + +CATHERINE. Little beast! What little beast? + +RAINA. To go and tell! Oh, if I had him here, I'd stuff him with +chocolate creams till he couldn't ever speak again! + +CATHERINE. Don't talk nonsense. Tell me the truth, Raina. How +long was he in your room before you came to me? + +RAINA (whisking round and recommencing her march in the +opposite direction). Oh, I forget. + +CATHERINE. You cannot forget! Did he really climb up after the +soldiers were gone, or was he there when that officer searched +the room? + +RAINA. No. Yes, I think he must have been there then. + +CATHERINE. You think! Oh, Raina, Raina! Will anything ever make +you straightforward? If Sergius finds out, it is all over +between you. + +RAINA (with cool impertinence). 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. + +CATHERINE (opening her eyes very widely indeed). Well, upon my +word! + +RAINA (capriciously--half to herself). 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! (To +Catherine perversely.) I don't care whether he finds out about +the chocolate cream soldier or not. I half hope he may. (She +again turns flippantly away and strolls up the path to the +corner of the house.) + +CATHERINE. And what should I be able to say to your father, +pray? + +RAINA (over her shoulder, from the top of the two steps). Oh, +poor father! As if he could help himself! (She turns the corner +and passes out of sight.) + +CATHERINE (looking after her, her fingers itching). Oh, if you +were only ten years younger! (Louka comes from the house with a +salver, which she carries hanging down by her side.) Well? + +LOUKA. There's a gentleman just called, madam--a Servian +officer-- + +CATHERINE (flaming). A Servian! How dare he--(Checking herself +bitterly.) 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? + +LOUKA. 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. (She takes a card out of her bosom; puts +it on the salver and offers it to Catherine.) + +CATHERINE (reading). "Captain Bluntschli!" That's a German +name. + +LOUKA. Swiss, madam, I think. + +CATHERINE (with a bound that makes Louka jump back). Swiss! +What is he like? + +LOUKA (timidly). He has a big carpet bag, madam. + +CATHERINE. 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! (She +throws herself into a chair to think it out. Louka waits.) The +master and Major Saranoff are busy in the library, aren't they? + +LOUKA. Yes, madam. + +CATHERINE (decisively). Bring the gentleman out here at once. +(Imperatively.) And be very polite to him. Don't delay. Here +(impatiently snatching the salver from her): leave that here; +and go straight back to him. + +LOUKA. Yes, madam. (Going.) + +CATHERINE. Louka! + +LOUKA (stopping). Yes, madam. + +CATHERINE. Is the library door shut? + +LOUKA. I think so, madam. + +CATHERINE. If not, shut it as you pass through. + +LOUKA. Yes, madam. (Going.) + +CATHERINE. Stop! (Louka stops.) He will have to go out that way +(indicating the gate of the stable yard). Tell Nicola to bring +his bag here after him. Don't forget. + +LOUKA (surprised). His bag? + +CATHERINE. Yes, here, as soon as possible. (Vehemently.) Be +quick! (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.) Oh, +how--how--how can a man be such a fool! Such a moment to select! +(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.) Captain +Bluntschli, I am very glad to see you; but you must leave this +house at once. (He raises his eyebrows.) 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? + +BLUNTSCHLI (disappointed, but philosophical). 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. (He +turns to go into the house.) + +CATHERINE (catching him by the sleeve). Oh, you must not think +of going back that way. (Coaxing him across to the stable +gates.) This is the shortest way out. Many thanks. So glad to +have been of service to you. Good-bye. + +BLUNTSCHLI. But my bag? + +CATHERINE. It will be sent on. You will leave me your address. + +BLUNTSCHLI. True. Allow me. (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.) + +PETKOFF (as he hurries down the steps). My dear Captain +Bluntschli-- + +CATHERINE. Oh Heavens! (She sinks on the seat against the wall.) + +PETKOFF (too preoccupied to notice her as he shakes +Bluntschli's hand heartily). Those stupid people of mine thought +I was out here, instead of in the--haw!--library. (He cannot +mention the library without betraying how proud he is of it.) 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? + +SERGIUS (saluting humorously, and then offering his hand with +great charm of manner). Welcome, our friend the enemy! + +PETKOFF. No longer the enemy, happily. (Rather anxiously.) I +hope you've come as a friend, and not on business. + +CATHERINE. Oh, quite as a friend, Paul. I was just asking +Captain Bluntschli to stay to lunch; but he declares he must go +at once. + +SERGIUS (sardonically). 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. + +BLUNTSCHLI (suddenly attentive and business-like). +Phillipopolis! The forage is the trouble, eh? + +PETKOFF (eagerly). Yes, that's it. (To Sergius.) He sees the +whole thing at once. + +BLUNTSCHLI. I think I can shew you how to manage that. + +SERGIUS. Invaluable man! Come along! (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.) + +RAINA (completely losing her presence of mind). Oh, the +chocolate cream soldier! + + (Bluntschli stands rigid. Sergius, amazed, looks + at Raina, then at Petkoff, who looks back at him + and then at his wife.) + +CATHERINE (with commanding presence of mind). My dear Raina, +don't you see that we have a guest here--Captain Bluntschli, one +of our new Servian friends? + + (Raina bows; Bluntschli bows.) + +RAINA. How silly of me! (She comes down into the centre of the +group, between Bluntschli and Petkoff) 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. +(To Bluntschli, winningly.) I hope you didn't think that you +were the chocolate cream soldier, Captain Bluntschli. + +BLUNTSCHLI (laughing). I assure you I did. (Stealing a +whimsical glance at her.) Your explanation was a relief. + +PETKOFF (suspiciously, to Raina). And since when, pray, have +you taken to cooking? + +CATHERINE. Oh, whilst you were away. It is her latest fancy. + +PETKOFF (testily). 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--(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) Are you mad, Nicola? + +NICOLA (taken aback). Sir? + +PETKOFF. What have you brought that for? + +NICOLA. My lady's orders, sir. Louka told me that-- + +CATHERINE (interrupting him). My orders! Why should I order you +to bring Captain Bluntschli's luggage out here? What are you +thinking of, Nicola? + +NICOLA (after a moment's bewilderment, picking up the bag as he +addresses Bluntschli with the very perfection of servile +discretion). I beg your pardon, sir, I am sure. (To Catherine.) +My fault, madam! I hope you'll overlook it! (He bows, and is +going to the steps with the bag, when Petkoff addresses him +angrily.) + +PETKOFF. You'd better go and slam that bag, too, down on Miss +Raina's ice pudding! (This is too much for Nicola. The bag drops +from his hands on Petkoff's corns, eliciting a roar of anguish +from him.) Begone, you butter-fingered donkey. + +NICOLA (snatching up the bag, and escaping into the house). +Yes, sir. + +CATHERINE. Oh, never mind, Paul, don't be angry! + +PETKOFF (muttering). Scoundrel. He's got out of hand while I +was away. I'll teach him. (Recollecting his guest.) 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. + +RAINA. Oh, do, Captain Bluntschli. + +PETKOFF (to Catherine). Now, Catherine, it's of you that he's +afraid. Press him and he'll stay. + +CATHERINE. Of course I shall be only too delighted if +(appealingly) Captain Bluntschli really wishes to stay. He knows +my wishes. + +BLUNTSCHLI (in his driest military manner). I am at madame's +orders. + +SERGIUS (cordially). That settles it! + +PETKOFF (heartily). Of course! + +RAINA. You see, you must stay! + +BLUNTSCHLI (smiling). Well, If I must, I must! +(Gesture of despair from Catherine.) + + + + +ACT III + + 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. + + 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. + + The door is on the left. The button of the + electric bell is between the door and the + fireplace. + +PETKOFF (looking up from his paper to watch how they are +getting on at the table). Are you sure I can't help you in any +way, Bluntschli? + +BLUNTSCHLI (without interrupting his writing or looking up). +Quite sure, thank you. Saranoff and I will manage it. + +SERGIUS (grimly). Yes: we'll manage it. He finds out what to +do; draws up the orders; and I sign 'em. Division of labour, +Major. (Bluntschli passes him a paper.) Another one? Thank you. +(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.) This hand +is more accustomed to the sword than to the pen. + +PETKOFF. 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? + +CATHERINE (in a low, warning tone). You can stop interrupting, +Paul. + +PETKOFF (starting and looking round at her). Eh? Oh! Quite +right, my love, quite right. (He takes his newspaper up, but +lets it drop again.) 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. + +CATHERINE. What is that? + +PETKOFF. My old coat. I'm not at home in this one: I feel as if +I were on parade. + +CATHERINE. My dear Paul, how absurd you are about that old coat! +It must be hanging in the blue closet where you left it. + +PETKOFF. My dear Catherine, I tell you I've looked there. Am I +to believe my own eyes or not? (Catherine quietly rises and +presses the button of the electric bell by the fireplace.) What +are you shewing off that bell for? (She looks at him majestically, +and silently resumes her chair and her needlework.) 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. (Nicola presents himself.) + +CATHERINE (unmoved by Petkoff's sally). Nicola: go to the blue +closet and bring your master's old coat here--the braided one he +usually wears in the house. + +NICOLA. Yes, madam. (Nicola goes out.) + +PETKOFF. Catherine. + +CATHERINE. Yes, Paul? + +PETKOFF. 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. + +CATHERINE. Done, Paul. + +PETKOFF (excited by the prospect of a gamble). Come: here's an +opportunity for some sport. Who'll bet on it? Bluntschli: I'll +give you six to one. + +BLUNTSCHLI (imperturbably). It would be robbing you, Major. +Madame is sure to be right. (Without looking up, he passes +another batch of papers to Sergius.) + +SERGIUS (also excited). Bravo, Switzerland! Major: I bet my +best charger against an Arab mare for Raina that Nicola finds +the coat in the blue closet. + +PETKOFF (eagerly). Your best char-- + +CATHERINE (hastily interrupting him). Don't be foolish, Paul. +An Arabian mare will cost you 50,000 levas. + +RAINA (suddenly coming out of her picturesque revery). Really, +mother, if you are going to take the jewellery, I don't see why +you should grudge me my Arab. + + (Nicola comes back with the coat and brings it + to Petkoff, who can hardly believe his eyes.) + +CATHERINE. Where was it, Nicola? + +NICOLA. Hanging in the blue closet, madam. + +PETKOFF. Well, I am d-- + +CATHERINE (stopping him). Paul! + +PETKOFF. I could have sworn it wasn't there. Age is beginning to +tell on me. I'm getting hallucinations. (To Nicola.) Here: help +me to change. Excuse me, Bluntschli. (He begins changing coats, +Nicola acting as valet.) 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? (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) She's dreaming, as usual. + +SERGIUS. Assuredly she shall not be the loser. + +PETKOFF. So much the better for her. I shan't come off so cheap, +I expect. (The change is now complete. Nicola goes out with the +discarded coat.) Ah, now I feel at home at last. (He sits down +and takes his newspaper with a grunt of relief.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (to Sergius, handing a paper). That's the last +order. + +PETKOFF (jumping up). What! finished? + +BLUNTSCHLI. Finished. (Petkoff goes beside Sergius; looks +curiously over his left shoulder as he signs; and says with +childlike envy) Haven't you anything for me to sign? + +BLUNTSCHLI. Not necessary. His signature will do. + +PETKOFF. Ah, well, I think we've done a thundering good day's +work. (He goes away from the table.) Can I do anything more? + +BLUNTSCHLI. You had better both see the fellows that are to take +these. (To Sergius.) 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. + +SERGIUS (rising indignantly). 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. (He strides out, his humanity +deeply outraged.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (confidentially). Just see that he talks to them +properly, Major, will you? + +PETKOFF (officiously). Quite right, Bluntschli, quite right. +I'll see to it. (He goes to the door importantly, but hesitates +on the threshold.) By the bye, Catherine, you may as well come, +too. They'll be far more frightened of you than of me. + +CATHERINE (putting down her embroidery). I daresay I had +better. You will only splutter at them. (She goes out, Petkoff +holding the door for her and following her.) + +BLUNTSCHLI. What a country! They make cannons out of cherry +trees; and the officers send for their wives to keep discipline! +(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.) + +RAINA. You look ever so much nicer than when we last met. (He +looks up, surprised.) What have you done to yourself? + +BLUNTSCHLI. Washed; brushed; good night's sleep and breakfast. +That's all. + +RAINA. Did you get back safely that morning? + +BLUNTSCHLI. Quite, thanks. + +RAINA. Were they angry with you for running away from Sergius's +charge? + +BLUNTSCHLI. No, they were glad; because they'd all just run away +themselves. + +RAINA (going to the table, and leaning over it towards him). It +must have made a lovely story for them--all that about me and my +room. + +BLUNTSCHLI. Capital story. But I only told it to one of them--a +particular friend. + +RAINA. On whose discretion you could absolutely rely? + +BLUNTSCHLI. Absolutely. + +RAINA. Hm! He told it all to my father and Sergius the day you +exchanged the prisoners. (She turns away and strolls carelessly +across to the other side of the room.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (deeply concerned and half incredulous). No! you +don't mean that, do you? + +RAINA (turning, with sudden earnestness). 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. + +BLUNTSCHLI. Bless me! then don't tell him. + +RAINA (full of reproach for his levity). 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. + +BLUNTSCHLI (sceptically). You mean that you wouldn't like him +to find out that the story about the ice pudding was +a--a--a--You know. + +RAINA (wincing). 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. +(Bluntschli rises quickly and looks doubtfully and somewhat +severely at her.) Do you remember the first time? + +BLUNTSCHLI. I! No. Was I present? + +RAINA. Yes; and I told the officer who was searching for you +that you were not present. + +BLUNTSCHLI. True. I should have remembered it. + +RAINA (greatly encouraged). Ah, it is natural that you should +forget it first. It cost you nothing: it cost me a lie!--a lie!! +(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.) + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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 (Raina recoils): the other is +getting his life saved in all sorts of ways by all sorts of +people. + +RAINA (rising in indignant protest). And so he becomes a +creature incapable of faith and of gratitude. + +BLUNTSCHLI (making a wry face). Do you like gratitude? I don't. +If pity is akin to love, gratitude is akin to the other thing. + +RAINA. Gratitude! (Turning on him.) 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. (She walks up the room melodramatically.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (dubiously). 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. + +RAINA (staring haughtily at him). Do you know, sir, that you +are insulting me? + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. + +RAINA (superbly). Captain Bluntschli! + +BLUNTSCHLI (unmoved). Yes? + +RAINA (coming a little towards him, as if she could not believe +her senses). Do you mean what you said just now? Do you know +what you said just now? + +BLUNTSCHLI. I do. + +RAINA (gasping). 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) How +did you find me out? + +BLUNTSCHLI (promptly). Instinct, dear young lady. Instinct, and +experience of the world. + +RAINA (wonderingly). Do you know, you are the first man I ever +met who did not take me seriously? + +BLUNTSCHLI. You mean, don't you, that I am the first man that +has ever taken you quite seriously? + +RAINA. Yes, I suppose I do mean that. (Cosily, quite at her ease +with him.) 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. + +BLUNTSCHLI. Yes: he's a little in that line himself, isn't he? + +RAINA (startled). Do you think so? + +BLUNTSCHLI. You know him better than I do. + +RAINA. I wonder--I wonder is he? If I thought that--! +(Discouraged.) Ah, well, what does it matter? I suppose, now +that you've found me out, you despise me. + +BLUNTSCHLI (warmly, rising). 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. + +RAINA (pleased). Really? + +BLUNTSCHLI (slapping his breast smartly with his hand, German +fashion). Hand aufs Herz! Really and truly. + +RAINA (very happy). But what did you think of me for giving you +my portrait? + +BLUNTSCHLI (astonished). Your portrait! You never gave me your +portrait. + +RAINA (quickly). Do you mean to say you never got it? + +BLUNTSCHLI. No. (He sits down beside her, with renewed interest, +and says, with some complacency.) When did you send it to me? + +RAINA (indignantly). I did not send it to you. (She turns her +head away, and adds, reluctantly.) It was in the pocket of that +coat. + +BLUNTSCHLI (pursing his lips and rounding his eyes). Oh-o-oh! I +never found it. It must be there still. + +RAINA (springing up). There still!--for my father to find the +first time he puts his hand in his pocket! Oh, how could you be +so stupid? + +BLUNTSCHLI (rising also). 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. + +RAINA (impatiently). Yes, that is so clever--so clever! What +shall I do? + +BLUNTSCHLI. Ah, I see. You wrote something on it. That was rash! + +RAINA (annoyed almost to tears). 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? + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. + +RAINA. What did you do with it? + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. + +RAINA. Pawned it!!! + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. + +RAINA (furious--throwing the words right into his face). You +have a low, shopkeeping mind. You think of things that would +never come into a gentleman's head. + +BLUNTSCHLI (phlegmatically). That's the Swiss national +character, dear lady. + +RAINA. Oh, I wish I had never met you. (She flounces away and +sits at the window fuming.) + + (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.) + +LOUKA (to Bluntschli). For you. (She empties the salver +recklessly on the table.) The messenger is waiting. (She is +determined not to be civil to a Servian, even if she must bring +him his letters.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (to Raina). 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. (He opens +one.) Oho! Bad news! + +RAINA (rising and advancing a little remorsefully). Bad news? + +BLUNTSCHLI. My father's dead. (He looks at the telegram with his +lips pursed, musing on the unexpected change in his +arrangements.) + +RAINA. Oh, how very sad! + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. +(Takes up a heavy letter in a long blue envelope.) Here's a +whacking letter from the family solicitor. (He pulls out the +enclosures and glances over them.) Great Heavens! Seventy! Two +hundred! (In a crescendo of dismay.) Four hundred! Four +thousand!! Nine thousand six hundred!!! What on earth shall I do +with them all? + +RAINA (timidly). Nine thousand hotels? + +BLUNTSCHLI. Hotels! Nonsense. If you only knew!--oh, it's too +ridiculous! Excuse me: I must give my fellow orders about +starting. (He leaves the room hastily, with the documents in his +hand.) + +LOUKA (tauntingly). 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. + +RAINA (bitterly). Grief!--a man who has been doing nothing but +killing people for years! What does he care? What does any +soldier care? (She goes to the door, evidently restraining her +tears with difficulty.) + +LOUKA. Major Saranoff has been fighting, too; and he has plenty +of heart left. (Raina, at the door, looks haughtily at her and +goes out.) Aha! I thought you wouldn't get much feeling out of +your soldier. (She is following Raina when Nicola enters with an +armful of logs for the fire.) + +NICOLA (grinning amorously at her). I've been trying all the +afternoon to get a minute alone with you, my girl. (His +countenance changes as he notices her arm.) Why, what fashion is +that of wearing your sleeve, child? + +LOUKA (proudly). My own fashion. + +NICOLA. Indeed! If the mistress catches you, she'll talk to you. +(He throws the logs down on the ottoman, and sits comfortably +beside them.) + +LOUKA. Is that any reason why you should take it on yourself to +talk to me? + +NICOLA. Come: don't be so contrary with me. I've some good news +for you. (He takes out some paper money. Louka, with an eager +gleam in her eyes, comes close to look at it.) 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. + +LOUKA (scornfully). 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. + +NICOLA (picking up his logs, and going to the stove). Ah, wait +till you see. We shall have our evenings to ourselves; and I +shall be master in my own house, I promise you. (He throws the +logs down and kneels at the stove.) + +LOUKA. You shall never be master in mine. (She sits down on +Sergius's chair.) + +NICOLA (turning, still on his knees, and squatting down rather +forlornly, on his calves, daunted by her implacable disdain). +You have a great ambition in you, Louka. Remember: if any luck +comes to you, it was I that made a woman of you. + +LOUKA. You! + +NICOLA (with dogged self-assertion). 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! (She tosses her head +defiantly; and he rises, ill-humoredly, adding more coolly) 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. + +LOUKA. 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. + +NICOLA (going up close to her for greater emphasis). 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. + +LOUKA (rising impatiently). 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. (Before Nicola can retort, Sergius comes +in. He checks himself a moment on seeing Louka; then goes to the +stove.) + +SERGIUS (to Nicola). I am not in the way of your work, I hope. + +NICOLA (in a smooth, elderly manner). 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. (To Louka.) Make that table +tidy, Louka, for the Major. (He goes out sedately.) + + (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.) + +SERGIUS. Let me see: is there a mark there? (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.) +Ffff! Does it hurt? + +LOUKA. Yes. + +SERGIUS. Shall I cure it? + +LOUKA (instantly withdrawing herself proudly, but still not +looking at him). No. You cannot cure it now. + +SERGIUS (masterfully). Quite sure? (He makes a movement as if +to take her in his arms.) + +LOUKA. Don't trifle with me, please. An officer should not +trifle with a servant. + +SERGIUS (touching the arm with a merciless stroke of his +forefinger). That was no trifle, Louka. + +LOUKA. No. (Looking at him for the first time.) Are you sorry? + +SERGIUS (with measured emphasis, folding his arms). I am never +sorry. + +LOUKA (wistfully). I wish I could believe a man could be so +unlike a woman as that. I wonder are you really a brave man? + +SERGIUS (unaffectedly, relaxing his attitude). 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. + +LOUKA. 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? + +SERGIUS (with bitter levity.) 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 (with a short, bitter +laugh) I am an officer. Oh, (fervently) 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. + +LOUKA. 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. + +SERGIUS (ironically). Indeed! I am willing to be instructed. + +LOUKA. 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 (with subdued passion) 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. + +SERGIUS. What would you do, most noble Empress? + +LOUKA. 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. + +SERGIUS (carried away). 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. + +LOUKA. 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. + +SERGIUS (recoiling). The Swiss! + +LOUKA. A man worth ten of you. Then you can come to me; and I +will refuse you. You are not good enough for me. (She turns to +the door.) + +SERGIUS (springing after her and catching her fiercely in his +arms). I will kill the Swiss; and afterwards I will do as I +please with you. + +LOUKA (in his arms, passive and steadfast). The Swiss will kill +you, perhaps. He has beaten you in love. He may beat you in war. + +SERGIUS (tormentedly). 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? + +LOUKA. Do you think she would believe the Swiss if he told her +now that I am in your arms? + +SERGIUS (releasing her in despair). Damnation! Oh, damnation! +Mockery, mockery everywhere: everything I think is mocked by +everything I do. (He strikes himself frantically on the breast.) +Coward, liar, fool! Shall I kill myself like a man, or live and +pretend to laugh at myself? (She again turns to go.) Louka! (She +stops near the door.) Remember: you belong to me. + +LOUKA (quietly). What does that mean--an insult? + +SERGIUS (commandingly). 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 (vehemently) 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. + +LOUKA. We shall see whether you dare keep your word. But take +care. I will not wait long. + +SERGIUS (again folding his arms and standing motionless in the +middle of the room). Yes, we shall see. And you shall wait my +pleasure. + + (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.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (absently, sitting at the table as before, and +putting down his papers). That's a remarkable looking young +woman. + +SERGIUS (gravely, without moving). Captain Bluntschli. + +BLUNTSCHLI. Eh? + +SERGIUS. 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? + +BLUNTSCHLI (staring, but sitting quite at his ease). 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. + +SERGIUS (flushing, but with deadly coldness). Take care, sir. +It is not our custom in Bulgaria to allow invitations of that +kind to be trifled with. + +BLUNTSCHLI (warmly). 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. + +SERGIUS (fiercely delighted to find his opponent a man of +spirit). Well said, Switzer. Shall I lend you my best horse? + +BLUNTSCHLI. No: damn your horse!---thank you all the same, my +dear fellow. (Raina comes in, and hears the next sentence.) I +shall fight you on foot. Horseback's too dangerous: I don't want +to kill you if I can help it. + +RAINA (hurrying forward anxiously). I have heard what Captain +Bluntschli said, Sergius. You are going to fight. Why? (Sergius +turns away in silence, and goes to the stove, where he stands +watching her as she continues, to Bluntschli) What about? + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. + +RAINA (turning away deeply hurt, almost with a sob in her +voice). I never said I wanted to see you again. + +SERGIUS (striding forward). Ha! That is a confession. + +RAINA (haughtily). What do you mean? + +SERGIUS. You love that man! + +RAINA (scandalized). Sergius! + +SERGIUS. 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. + +BLUNTSCHLI (jumping up indignantly). Stuff! Rubbish! I have +received no favours. Why, the young lady doesn't even know +whether I'm married or not. + +RAINA (forgetting herself). Oh! (Collapsing on the ottoman.) +Are you? + +SERGIUS. 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-- + +BLUNTSCHLI (interrupting him pepperily). 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. + +SERGIUS (taken aback). Bluntschli! Raina: is this true? + +RAINA (rising in wrathful majesty). Oh, how dare you, how dare +you? + +BLUNTSCHLI. Apologize, man, apologize! (He resumes his seat at +the table.) + +SERGIUS (with the old measured emphasis, folding his arms). I +never apologize. + +RAINA (passionately). This is the doing of that friend of +yours, Captain Bluntschli. It is he who is spreading this +horrible story about me. (She walks about excitedly.) + +BLUNTSCHLI. No: he's dead--burnt alive. + +RAINA (stopping, shocked). Burnt alive! + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. + +RAINA. How horrible! + +SERGIUS. And how ridiculous! Oh, war! war! the dream of patriots +and heroes! A fraud, Bluntschli, a hollow sham, like love. + +RAINA (outraged). Like love! You say that before me. + +BLUNTSCHLI. Come, Saranoff: that matter is explained. + +SERGIUS. 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. + +RAINA. Who then? (Suddenly guessing the truth.) 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! (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) 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. + +SERGIUS (with grim humor). You saw that? + +RAINA. Only too well. (She turns away, and throws herself on the +divan under the centre window, quite overcome.) + +SERGIUS (cynically). Raina: our romance is shattered. Life's a +farce. + +BLUNTSCHLI (to Raina, goodhumoredly). You see: he's found +himself out now. + +SERGIUS. 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? + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. + +SERGIUS. 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. + +BLUNTSCHLI (apologetically). 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? + +RAINA (riling). 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. + +SERGIUS. Rival!! (Striking his forehead.) + +RAINA. Did you not know that they are engaged? + +SERGIUS. Nicola! Are fresh abysses opening! Nicola!! + +RAINA (sarcastically). 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. + +SERGIUS (losing all self-control). Viper! Viper! (He rushes to +and fro, raging.) + +BLUNTSCHLI. Look here, Saranoff; you're getting the worst of +this. + +RAINA (getting angrier). 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. + +SERGIUS. False! Monstrous! + +RAINA. Monstrous! (Confronting him.) Do you deny that she told +you about Captain Bluntschli being in my room? + +SERGIUS. No; but-- + +RAINA (interrupting). Do you deny that you were making love to +her when she told you? + +SERGIUS. No; but I tell you-- + +RAINA (cutting him short contemptuously). It is unnecessary to +tell us anything more. That is quite enough for us. (She turns +her back on him and sweeps majestically back to the window.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (quietly, as Sergius, in an agony of mortification, +sinks on the ottoman, clutching his averted head between his +fists). I told you you were getting the worst of it, Saranoff. + +SERGIUS. Tiger cat! + +RAINA (running excitedly to Bluntschli). You hear this man +calling me names, Captain Bluntschli? + +BLUNTSCHLI. What else can he do, dear lady? He must defend +himself somehow. Come (very persuasively), don't quarrel. What +good does it do? (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.) + +SERGIUS. Engaged to Nicola! (He rises.) Ha! ha! (Going to the +stove and standing with his back to it.) Ah, well, Bluntschli, +you are right to take this huge imposture of a world coolly. + +RAINA (to Bluntschli with an intuitive guess at his state of +mind). I daresay you think us a couple of grown up babies, don't +you? + +SERGIUS (grinning a little). He does, he does. Swiss +civilization nursetending Bulgarian barbarism, eh? + +BLUNTSCHLI (blushing). 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? + +RAINA. Listening at the door, probably. + +SERGIUS (shivering as if a bullet had struck him, and speaking +with quiet but deep indignation). I will prove that that, at +least, is a calumny. (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) Judge her, Bluntschli--you, +the moderate, cautious man: judge the eavesdropper. + + (Louka stands her ground, proud and silent.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (shaking his head). 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. + +LOUKA. My love was at stake. (Sergius flinches, ashamed of her +in spite of himself.) I am not ashamed. + +RAINA (contemptuously). Your love! Your curiosity, you mean. + +LOUKA (facing her and retorting her contempt with interest). My +love, stronger than anything you can feel, even for your +chocolate cream soldier. + +SERGIUS (with quick suspicion--to Louka). What does that mean? + +LOUKA (fiercely). It means-- + +SERGIUS (interrupting her slightingly). Oh, I remember, the ice +pudding. A paltry taunt, girl. + + (Major Petkoff enters, in his shirtsleeves.) + +PETKOFF. 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. (He looks more attentively at them.) Is anything the +matter? + +RAINA. No. (She sits down at the stove with a tranquil air.) + +SERGIUS. Oh, no! (He sits down at the end of the table, as at +first.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (who is already seated). Nothing, nothing. + +PETKOFF (sitting down on the ottoman in his old place). That's +all right. (He notices Louka.) Anything the matter, Louka? + +LOUKA. No, sir. + +PETKOFF (genially). That's all right. (He sneezes.) Go and ask +your mistress for my coat, like a good girl, will you? (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.) + +RAINA (rising quickly, as she sees the coat on Nicola's arm). +Here it is, papa. Give it to me, Nicola; and do you put some +more wood on the fire. (She takes the coat, and brings it to the +Major, who stands up to put it on. Nicola attends to the fire.) + +PETKOFF (to Raina, teasing her affectionately). Aha! Going to +be very good to poor old papa just for one day after his return +from the wars, eh? + +RAINA (with solemn reproach). Ah, how can you say that to me, +father? + +PETKOFF. Well, well, only a joke, little one. Come, give me a +kiss. (She kisses him.) Now give me the coat. + +RAINA. Now, I am going to put it on for you. Turn your back. (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.) There, dear! Now are you +comfortable? + +PETKOFF. Quite, little love. Thanks. (He sits down; and Raina +returns to her seat near the stove.) Oh, by the bye, I've found +something funny. What's the meaning of this? (He put his hand +into the picked pocket.) Eh? Hallo! (He tries the other pocket.) +Well, I could have sworn--(Much puzzled, he tries the breast +pocket.) I wonder--(Tries the original pocket.) Where can +it--(A light flashes on him; he rises, exclaiming) Your mother's +taken it. + +RAINA (very red). Taken what? + +PETKOFF. 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. (Shouting) Nicola! + +NICOLA (dropping a log, and turning). Sir! + +PETKOFF. Did you spoil any pastry of Miss Raina's this morning? + +NICOLA. You heard Miss Raina say that I did, sir. + +PETKOFF. I know that, you idiot. Was it true? + +NICOLA. I am sure Miss Raina is incapable of saying anything +that is not true, sir. + +PETKOFF. Are you? Then I'm not. (Turning to the others.) Come: +do you think I don't see it all? (Goes to Sergius, and slaps him +on the shoulder.) Sergius: you're the chocolate cream soldier, +aren't you? + +SERGIUS (starting up). I! a chocolate cream soldier! Certainly +not. + +PETKOFF. Not! (He looks at them. They are all very serious and +very conscious.) Do you mean to tell me that Raina sends +photographic souvenirs to other men? + +SERGIUS (enigmatically). The world is not such an innocent +place as we used to think, Petkoff. + +BLUNTSCHLI (rising). It's all right, Major. I'm the chocolate +cream soldier. (Petkoff and Sergius are equally astonished.) 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. + +PETKOFF. You! (He gasps.) Sergius: do you remember how those two +women went on this morning when we mentioned it? (Sergius smiles +cynically. Petkoff confronts Raina severely.) You're a nice young +woman, aren't you? + +RAINA (bitterly). Major Saranoff has changed his mind. And when +I wrote that on the photograph, I did not know that Captain +Bluntschli was married. + +BLUNTSCHLI (much startled protesting vehemently). I'm not +married. + +RAINA (with deep reproach). You said you were. + +BLUNTSCHLI. I did not. I positively did not. I never was married +in my life. + +PETKOFF (exasperated). Raina: will you kindly inform me, if I +am not asking too much, which gentleman you are engaged to? + +RAINA. To neither of them. This young lady (introducing Louka, +who faces them all proudly) is the object of Major Saranoff's +affections at present. + +PETKOFF. Louka! Are you mad, Sergius? Why, this girl's engaged +to Nicola. + +NICOLA (coming forward ). I beg your pardon, sir. There is a +mistake. Louka is not engaged to me. + +PETKOFF. 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. + +NICOLA (with cool unction). 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. (He goes out with impressive discretion, leaving +them all staring after him.) + +PETKOFF (breaking the silence). Well, I am---hm! + +SERGIUS. This is either the finest heroism or the most crawling +baseness. Which is it, Bluntschli? + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. + +LOUKA (suddenly breaking out at Sergius). I have been insulted +by everyone here. You set them the example. You owe me an +apology. (Sergius immediately, like a repeating clock of which +the spring has been touched, begins to fold his arms.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (before he can speak). It's no use. He never +apologizes. + +LOUKA. Not to you, his equal and his enemy. To me, his poor +servant, he will not refuse to apologize. + +SERGIUS (approvingly). You are right. (He bends his knee in his +grandest manner.) Forgive me! + +LOUKA. I forgive you. (She timidly gives him her hand, which he +kisses.) That touch makes me your affianced wife. + +SERGIUS (springing up). Ah, I forgot that! + +LOUKA (coldly). You can withdraw if you like. + +SERGIUS. Withdraw! Never! You belong to me! (He puts his arm +about her and draws her to him.) (Catherine comes in and finds +Louka in Sergius's arms, and all the rest gazing at them in +bewildered astonishment.) + +CATHERINE. What does this mean? (Sergius releases Louka.) + +PETKOFF. Well, my dear, it appears that Sergius is going to +marry Louka instead of Raina. (She is about to break out +indignantly at him: he stops her by exclaiming testily.) Don't +blame me: I've nothing to do with it. (He retreats to the +stove.) + +CATHERINE. Marry Louka! Sergius: you are bound by your word to +us! + +SERGIUS (folding his arms). Nothing binds me. + +BLUNTSCHLI (much pleased by this piece of common sense). +Saranoff: your hand. My congratulations. These heroics of yours +have their practical side after all. (To Louka.) Gracious young +lady: the best wishes of a good Republican! (He kisses her hand, +to Raina's great disgust.) + +CATHERINE (threateningly). Louka: you have been telling +stories. + +LOUKA. I have done Raina no harm. + +CATHERINE (haughtily). Raina! (Raina is equally indignant at +the liberty.) + +LOUKA. 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. + +BLUNTSCHLI (surprised). Hallo! + +LOUKA (turning to Raina). I thought you were fonder of him than +of Sergius. You know best whether I was right. + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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-- + +SERGIUS (starting as if a needle had pricked him and +interrupting Bluntschli in incredulous amazement). Excuse me, +Bluntschli: what did you say had spoiled your chances in life? + +BLUNTSCHLI (promptly). 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-- + +PETKOFF. My coat! + +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. (This estimate produces a marked sensation, all the +rest turning and staring at one another. He proceeds +innocently.) 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! (He takes the photograph from the +table.) 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"? (He exhibits the +photograph triumphantly, as if it settled the matter beyond all +possibility of refutation.) + +PETKOFF. That's what I was looking for. How the deuce did it get +there? + +BLUNTSCHLI (to Raina complacently). I have put everything +right, I hope, gracious young lady! + +RAINA (in uncontrollable vexation). I quite agree with your +account of yourself. You are a romantic idiot. (Bluntschli is +unspeakably taken aback.) Next time I hope you will know the +difference between a schoolgirl of seventeen and a woman of +twenty-three. + +BLUNTSCHLI (stupefied). Twenty-three! (She snaps the photograph +contemptuously from his hand; tears it across; and throws the +pieces at his feet.) + +SERGIUS (with grim enjoyment of Bluntschli's discomfiture). +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. + +BLUNTSCHLI (overwhelmed). Twenty-three! Twenty-three!! (He +considers.) Hm! (Swiftly making up his mind.) 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. + +RAINA. You dare! + +BLUNTSCHLI. If you were twenty-three when you said those things +to me this afternoon, I shall take them seriously. + +CATHERINE (loftily polite). 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. + +PETKOFF. Oh, never mind that, Catherine. (To Bluntschli.) 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. + +BLUNTSCHLI. But what on earth is the use of twenty horses? Why, +it's a circus. + +CATHERINE (severely). My daughter, sir, is accustomed to a +first-rate stable. + +RAINA. Hush, mother, you're making me ridiculous. + +BLUNTSCHLI. Oh, well, if it comes to a question of an +establishment, here goes! (He goes impetuously to the table and +seizes the papers in the blue envelope.) How many horses did you +say? + +SERGIUS. Twenty, noble Switzer! + +BLUNTSCHLI. I have two hundred horses. (They are amazed.) How +many carriages? + +SERGIUS. Three. + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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? + +SERGIUS. How the deuce do I know? + +BLUNTSCHLI. Have you four thousand? + +SERGIUS. NO. + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. + +PETKOFF (with childish awe). Are you Emperor of Switzerland? + +BLUNTSCHLI. My rank is the highest known in Switzerland: I'm a +free citizen. + +CATHERINE. Then Captain Bluntschli, since you are my daughter's +choice, I shall not stand in the way of her happiness. (Petkoff +is about to speak.) That is Major Petkoff's feeling also. + +PETKOFF. Oh, I shall be only too glad. Two hundred horses! Whew! + +SERGIUS. What says the lady? + +RAINA (pretending to sulk). The lady says that he can keep his +tablecloths and his omnibuses. I am not here to be sold to the +highest bidder. + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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-- + +RAINA (interrupting him). I did not give them to the Emperor of +Switzerland! + +BLUNTSCHLI. That's just what I say. (He catches her hand quickly +and looks her straight in the face as he adds, with confident +mastery) Now tell us who you did give them to. + +RAINA (succumbing with a shy smile). To my chocolate cream +soldier! + +BLUNTSCHLI (with a boyish laugh of delight). That'll do. Thank +you. (Looks at his watch and suddenly becomes businesslike.) +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. (He makes them a military bow, and goes.) + +SERGIUS. What a man! What a man! + + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Arms and the Man, by George Bernard Shaw + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ARMS AND THE MAN *** + +***** This file should be named 3618.txt or 3618.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/6/1/3618/ + +Produced by Jim Tinsley <jtinsley@pobox.com> with help +from the distributed proofreaders at +http://charlz.dynip.com/gutenberg + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions 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. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.06/12/01*END* +[Portions of this header are copyright (C) 2001 by Michael S. Hart +and may be reprinted only when these Etexts are free of all fees.] +[Project Gutenberg is a TradeMark and may not be used in any sales +of Project Gutenberg Etexts or other materials be they hardware or +software or any other related product without express permission.] + + + + + +Produced by Jim Tinsley <jtinsley@pobox.com> with help from the +distributed proofreaders at http://charlz.dynip.com/gutenberg + + + + + +Arms and the Man + +by George Bernard Shaw + + + + +INTRODUCTION + +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 +dramatic art than, according to his own story in "The Man of Destiny," +Napoleon at Tavazzano knew of the Art of War. 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. + +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. + +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. + +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." + +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? + +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. + +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. + +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. Candida 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. + +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. + +"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. Gloria 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. +Crampton, 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. + +The waiter, William, 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. + +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. + +M. + + + + + + +ARMS AND THE MAN + +ACT I + + 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. + + 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. + + 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. + +CATHERINE (entering hastily, full of good news). Raina--(she +pronounces it Rah-eena, with the stress on the ee) Raina--(she +goes to the bed, expecting to find Raina there.) Why, +where--(Raina looks into the room.) 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. + +RAINA (coming in). I sent her away. I wanted to be alone. The +stars are so beautiful! What is the matter? + +CATHERINE. Such news. There has been a battle! + +RAINA (her eyes dilating). Ah! (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.) + +CATHERINE. A great battle at Slivnitza! A victory! And it was +won by Sergius. + +RAINA (with a cry of delight). Ah! (Rapturously.) Oh, mother! +(Then, with sudden anxiety) Is father safe? + +CATHERINE. Of course: he sent me the news. Sergius is the hero +of the hour, the idol of the regiment. + +RAINA. Tell me, tell me. How was it! (Ecstatically) Oh, mother, +mother, mother! (Raina pulls her mother down on the ottoman; and +they kiss one another frantically.) + +CATHERINE (with surging enthusiasm). 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. + +RAINA. 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! (She rises and walks about excitedly.) It +proves that all our ideas were real after all. + +CATHERINE (indignantly). Our ideas real! What do you mean? + +RAINA. 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--(Quickly.) Promise me you'll never tell him. + +CATHERINE. Don't ask me for promises until I know what I am +promising. + +RAINA. 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. (Remorsefully.) 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. + +CATHERINE. 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. + +RAINA (laughing and sitting down again). 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! (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.) + +LOUKA. 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. (Raina and Catherine rise together, alarmed.) 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. (She goes out on the balcony and pulls +the outside shutters to; then steps back into the room.) + +RAINA. I wish our people were not so cruel. What glory is there +in killing wretched fugitives? + +CATHERINE (business-like, her housekeeping instincts aroused). +I must see that everything is made safe downstairs. + +RAINA (to Louka). Leave the shutters so that I can just close +them if I hear any noise. + +CATHERINE (authoritatively, turning on her way to the door). +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. + +LOUKA. Yes, madam. (She fastens them.) + +RAINA. 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. + +CATHERINE. Quite the wisest thing you can do, my love. +Good-night. + +RAINA. Good-night. (They kiss one another, and Raina's emotion +comes back for a moment.) Wish me joy of the happiest night of +my life--if only there are no fugitives. + +CATHERINE. Go to bed, dear; and don't think of them. (She goes +out.) + +LOUKA (secretly, to Raina). If you would like the shutters +open, just give them a push like this. (She pushes them: they +open: she pulls them to again.) One of them ought to be bolted +at the bottom; but the bolt's gone. + +RAINA (with dignity, reproving her). Thanks, Louka; but we must +do what we are told. (Louka makes a grimace.) Good-night. + +LOUKA (carelessly). Good-night. (She goes out, swaggering.) + + (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.) + +RAINA (looking up at the picture with worship.) Oh, I shall +never be unworthy of you any more, my hero--never, never, never. + + (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) + +My hero! my hero! + + (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.) + +RAINA (crouching on the bed). Who's there? (The match is out +instantly.) Who's there? Who is that? + +A MAN'S VOICE (in the darkness, subduedly, but threateningly). +Sh--sh! Don't call out or you'll be shot. Be good; and no harm +will happen to you. (She is heard leaving her bed, and making +for the door.) Take care, there's no use in trying to run away. +Remember, if you raise your voice my pistol will go off. +(Commandingly.) Strike a light and let me see you. Do you hear? +(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) Excuse my disturbing you; +but you recognise my uniform--Servian. If I'm caught I shall be +killed. (Determinedly.) Do you understand that? + +RAINA. Yes. + +MAN. Well, I don't intend to get killed if I can help it. (Still +more determinedly.) Do you understand that? (He locks the door +with a snap.) + +RAINA (disdainfully). I suppose not. (She draws herself up +superbly, and looks him straight in the face, saying with +emphasis) Some soldiers, I know, are afraid of death. + +MAN (with grim goodhumor). 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-- + +RAINA (cutting him short). You will shoot me. How do you know +that I am afraid to die? + +MAN (cunningly). 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? (Raina, suddenly +conscious of her nightgown, instinctively shrinks and gathers it +more closely about her. He watches her, and adds, pitilessly) +It's rather scanty, eh? (She turns to the ottoman. He raises his +pistol instantly, and cries) Stop! (She stops.) Where are you +going? + +RAINA (with dignified patience). Only to get my cloak. + +MAN (darting to the ottoman and snatching the cloak). 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. (He throws the pistol down on the ottoman.) + +RAINA (revolted). It is not the weapon of a gentleman! + +MAN. It's good enough for a man with only you to stand between +him and death. (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) Do you hear? If you are going +to bring those scoundrels in on me you shall receive them as you +are. (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) No use: I'm +done for. Quick! wrap yourself up: they're coming! + +RAINA (catching the cloak eagerly). Oh, thank you. (She wraps +herself up with great relief. He draws his sabre and turns to +the door, waiting.) + +LOUKA (outside, knocking). My lady, my lady! Get up, quick, and +open the door. + +RAINA (anxiously). What will you do? + +MAN (grimly). Never mind. Keep out of the way. It will not last +long. + +RAINA (impulsively). I'll help you. Hide yourself, oh, hide +yourself, quick, behind the curtain. (She seizes him by a torn +strip of his sleeve, and pulls him towards the window.) + +MAN (yielding to her). There is just half a chance, if you keep +your head. Remember: nine soldiers out of ten are born fools. +(He hides behind the curtain, looking out for a moment to say, +finally) If they find me, I promise you a fight--a devil of a +fight! (He disappears. Raina takes of the cloak and throws it +across the foot of the bed. Then with a sleepy, disturbed air, +she opens the door. Louka enters excitedly.) + +LOUKA. 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. + +RAINA (as if annoyed at being disturbed). They shall not search +here. Why have they been let in? + +CATHERINE (coming in hastily). Raina, darling, are you safe? +Have you seen anyone or heard anything? + +RAINA. I heard the shooting. Surely the soldiers will not dare +come in here? + +CATHERINE. I have found a Russian officer, thank Heaven: he +knows Sergius. (Speaking through the door to someone outside.) +Sir, will you come in now! My daughter is ready. + + (A young Russian officer, in Bulgarian uniform, + enters, sword in hand.) + +THE OFFICER. (with soft, feline politeness and stiff military +carriage). 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? + +RAINA (petulantly). Nonsense, sir, you can see that there is no +one on the balcony. (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.) + +THE OFFICER. (on the balcony, shouting savagely down to the +street). Cease firing there, you fools: do you hear? Cease +firing, damn you. (He glares down for a moment; then turns to +Raina, trying to resume his polite manner.) Could anyone have +got in without your knowledge? Were you asleep? + +RAINA. No, I have not been to bed. + +THE OFFICER. (impatiently, coming back into the room). Your +neighbours have their heads so full of runaway Servians that +they see them everywhere. (Politely.) Gracious lady, a thousand +pardons. Good-night. (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.) + +RAINA. Don't leave my mother, Louka, whilst the soldiers are +here. (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.) + +MAN. 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. + +RAINA (haughtily). 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! + +MAN. 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. + +RAINA. Have I not been generous? + +MAN. 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? + +RAINA. Oh, no: I am sorry you will have to go into danger again. +(Motioning towards ottoman.) Won't you sit--(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.) + +MAN (irritably). Don't frighten me like that. What is it? + +RAINA. Your pistol! It was staring that officer in the face all +the time. What an escape! + +MAN (vexed at being unnecessarily terrified). Oh, is that all? + +RAINA (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 am sorry I frightened +you. (She takes up the pistol and hands it to him.) Pray take it +to protect yourself against me. + +MAN (grinning wearily at the sarcasm as he takes the pistol). +No use, dear young lady: there's nothing in it. It's not loaded. +(He makes a grimace at it, and drops it disparagingly into his +revolver case.) + +RAINA. Load it by all means. + +MAN. I've no ammunition. What use are cartridges in battle? I +always carry chocolate instead; and I finished the last cake of +that yesterday. + +RAINA (outraged in her most cherished ideals of manhood). +Chocolate! Do you stuff your pockets with sweets--like a +schoolboy--even in the field? + +MAN. Yes. Isn't it contemptible? + + (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.) + +RAINA. Allow me. I am sorry I have eaten them all except these. +(She offers him the box.) + +MAN (ravenously). You're an angel! (He gobbles the comfits.) +Creams! Delicious! (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) 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. (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.) +Ugh! Don't do things so suddenly, gracious lady. Don't revenge +yourself because I frightened you just now. + +RAINA (superbly). Frighten me! Do you know, sir, that though I +am only a woman, I think I am at heart as brave as you. + +MAN. 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. (He +sits down on the ottoman, and takes his head in his hands.) +Would you like to see me cry? + +RAINA (quickly). No. + +MAN. 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. + +RAINA (a little moved). I'm sorry. I won't scold you. (Touched +by the sympathy in her tone, he raises his head and looks +gratefully at her: she immediately draws hack and says stiffly) +You must excuse me: our soldiers are not like that. (She moves +away from the ottoman.) + +MAN. 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. (Indignantly.) I never saw anything so +unprofessional. + +RAINA (ironically). Oh, was it unprofessional to beat you? + +MAN. 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. + +RAINA (eagerly turning to him, as all her enthusiasm and her +dream of glory rush back on her). Did you see the great cavalry +charge? Oh, tell me about it. Describe it to me. + +MAN. You never saw a cavalry charge, did you? + +RAINA. How could I? + +MAN. 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. + +RAINA (her eyes dilating as she raises her clasped hands +ecstatically). Yes, first One!--the bravest of the brave! + +MAN (prosaically). Hm! you should see the poor devil pulling at +his horse. + +RAINA. Why should he pull at his horse? + +MAN (impatient of so stupid a question). 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. + +RAINA. Ugh! But I don't believe the first man is a coward. I +believe he is a hero! + +MAN (goodhumoredly). That's what you'd have said if you'd seen +the first man in the charge to-day. + +RAINA (breathless). Ah, I knew it! Tell me--tell me about him. + +MAN. 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. + +RAINA (deeply wounded, but steadfastly loyal to her ideals). +Indeed! Would you know him again if you saw him? + +MAN. Shall I ever forget him. (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.) + +RAINA. That is a photograph of the gentleman--the patriot and +hero--to whom I am betrothed. + +MAN (looking at it). I'm really very sorry. (Looking at her.) +Was it fair to lead me on? (He looks at the portrait again.) +Yes: that's him: not a doubt of it. (He stifles a laugh.) + +RAINA (quickly). Why do you laugh? + +MAN (shamefacedly, but still greatly tickled). 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--(chokes with suppressed laughter). + +RAINA (sternly). Give me back the portrait, sir. + +MAN (with sincere remorse). Of course. Certainly. I'm really +very sorry. (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.) 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. + +RAINA. That is to say, he was a pretender and a coward! You did +not dare say that before. + +MAN (with a comic gesture of despair). It's no use, dear lady: +I can't make you see it from the professional point of view. (As +he turns away to get back to the ottoman, the firing begins +again in the distance.) + +RAINA (sternly, as she sees him listening to the shots). So +much the better for you. + +MAN (turning). How? + +RAINA. You are my enemy; and you are at my mercy. What would I +do if I were a professional soldier? + +MAN. 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. + +RAINA (coldly). 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. (She turns to +the window.) + +MAN (changing countenance). 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!--(He sinks on the ottoman.) It's no use: I give up: +I'm beaten. Give the alarm. (He drops his head in his hands in +the deepest dejection.) + +RAINA (disarmed by pity). Come, don't be disheartened. (She +stoops over him almost maternally: he shakes his head.) 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. + +MAN (dreamily, lulled by her voice). 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. + +RAINA (softly and wonderingly, catching the rhythm of his +weariness). Are you so sleepy as that? + +MAN. 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. + +RAINA (desperately). But what am I to do with you. + +MAN (staggering up). Of course I must do something. (He shakes +himself; pulls himself together; and speaks with rallied vigour +and courage.) 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--(He hits himself +on the chest, and adds)--Do you hear that, you chocolate cream +soldier? (He turns to the window.) + +RAINA (anxiously). But if you fall? + +MAN. I shall sleep as if the stones were a feather bed. +Good-bye. (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.) + +RAINA (rushing to him). Stop! (She catches him by the shoulder, +and turns him quite round.) They'll kill you. + +MAN (coolly, but attentively). Never mind: this sort of thing +is all in my day's work. I'm bound to take my chance. +(Decisively.) 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. + +RAINA (clinging to him). 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? + +MAN. I really don't want to be troublesome. (She shakes him in +her impatience.) I am not indifferent, dear young lady, I assure +you. But how is it to be done? + +RAINA. Come away from the window--please. (She coaxes him back +to the middle of the room. He submits humbly. She releases him, +and addresses him patronizingly.) Now listen. You must trust to +our hospitality. You do not yet know in whose house you are. I +am a Petkoff. + +MAN. What's that? + +RAINA (rather indignantly). I mean that I belong to the family +of the Petkoffs, the richest and best known in our country. + +MAN. Oh, yes, of course. I beg your pardon. The Petkoffs, to be +sure. How stupid of me! + +RAINA. You know you never heard of them until this minute. How +can you stoop to pretend? + +MAN. Forgive me: I'm too tired to think; and the change of +subject was too much for me. Don't scold me. + +RAINA. I forgot. It might make you cry. (He nods, quite +seriously. She pouts and then resumes her patronizing tone.) I +must tell you that my father holds the highest command of any +Bulgarian in our army. He is (proudly) a Major. + +MAN (pretending to be deeply impressed). A Major! Bless me! +Think of that! + +RAINA. 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. + +MAN. Stairs! How grand! You live in great luxury indeed, dear +young lady. + +RAINA. Do you know what a library is? + +MAN. A library? A roomful of books. + +RAINA. Yes, we have one, the only one in Bulgaria. + +MAN. Actually a real library! I should like to see that. + +RAINA (affectedly). 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. + +MAN. I saw that, dear young lady. I saw at once that you knew +the world. + +RAINA. Have you ever seen the opera of Ernani? + +MAN. Is that the one with the devil in it in red velvet, and a +soldier's chorus? + +RAINA (contemptuously). No! + +MAN (stifling a heavy sigh of weariness). Then I don't know it. + +RAINA. 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. + +MAN (quickly waking up a little). Have your people got that +notion? + +RAINA (with dignity). 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. + +MAN. Quite sure? + +RAINA (turning her back on him in disgust.) Oh, it is useless +to try and make you understand. + +MAN. 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? + +RAINA. 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? (She offers him her hand.) + +MAN (looking dubiously at his own hand). Better not touch my +hand, dear young lady. I must have a wash first. + +RAINA (touched). That is very nice of you. I see that you are a +gentleman. + +MAN (puzzled). Eh? + +RAINA. 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. +(She offers it again.) + +MAN (kissing it with his hands behind his back). 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. + +RAINA. If you will be so good as to keep perfectly still whilst +I am away. + +MAN. Certainly. (He sits down on the ottoman.) + + (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.) + +RAINA (at the door). You are not going asleep, are you? +(He murmurs inarticulately: she runs to him and shakes him.) +Do you hear? Wake up: you are falling asleep. + +MAN. Eh? Falling aslee--? Oh, no, not the least in +the world: I was only thinking. It's all right: I'm wide +awake. + +RAINA (severely). Will you please stand up while I am +away. (He rises reluctantly.) All the time, mind. + +MAN (standing unsteadily). Certainly--certainly: you +may depend on me. + + (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.) + +MAN (drowsily). Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, slee--(The +words trail of into a murmur. He wakes again with a +shock on the point of falling.) Where am I? That's what +I want to know: where am I? Must keep awake. Nothing +keeps me awake except danger--remember that--(intently) +danger, danger, danger, dan-- Where's danger? Must +find it. (He starts of vaguely around the room in search of +it.) What am I looking for? Sleep--danger--don't know. +(He stumbles against the bed.) 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. (He sits on the bed. A blissful expression +comes into his face.) Ah! (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.) + + (Catherine comes in, followed by Raina.) + +RAINA (looking at the ottoman). He's gone! I left him +here. + +CATHERINE, Here! Then he must have climbed down from the-- + +RAINA (seeing him). Oh! (She points.) + +CATHERINE (scandalized). Well! (She strides to the left +side of the bed, Raina following and standing opposite her on +the right.) He's fast asleep. The brute! + +RAINA (anxiously). Sh! + +CATHERINE (shaking him). Sir! (Shaking him again, +harder.) Sir!! (Vehemently shaking very bard.) Sir!!! + +RAINA (catching her arm). Don't, mamma: the poor dear +is worn out. Let him sleep. + +CATHERINE (letting him go and turning amazed to Raina). +The poor dear! Raina!!! (She looks sternly at her +daughter. The man sleeps profoundly.) + + + + + + +ACT II + + 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 he + seen, shewing that there it 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. + + 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 harder, sash, wide knickerbockers, and + decorated gaiters. His head is shaved up to the + crown, giving him a high Japanese forehead. His + name is Nicola. + +NICOLA. 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. + +LOUKA. I do defy her. I will defy her. What do I care for her? + +NICOLA. If you quarrel with the family, I never can marry you. +It's the same as if you quarrelled with me! + +LOUKA. You take her part against me, do you? + +NICOLA (sedately). I shall always be dependent on the good will +of the family. When I leave their service and start a shop in +Sofea, their custom will be half my capital: their bad word +would ruin me. + +LOUKA. You have no spirit. I should like to see them dare say a +word against me! + +NICOLA (pityingly). I should have expected more sense from you, +Louka. But you're young, you're young! + +LOUKA. 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! + +NICOLA (with compassionate superiority). Do you know what they +would do if they heard you talk like that? + +LOUKA. What could they do? + +NICOLA. 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? (She impatiently throws away the end of her cigaret, and +stamps on it.) 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. (He goes close to her and lowers his +voice.) 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-- + +LOUKA (turning on him quickly). How do you know? I never told +you! + +NICOLA (opening his eyes cunningly). 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. + +LOUKA (with searching scorn). You have the soul of a servant, +Nicola. + +NICOLA (complacently). Yes: that's the secret of success in +service. + + (A loud knocking with a whip handle on a wooden + door, outside on the left, is heard.) + +MALE VOICE OUTSIDE. Hollo! Hollo there! Nicola! + +LOUKA. Master! back from the war! + +NICOLA (quickly). My word for it, Louka, the war's over. Off +with you and get some fresh coffee. (He runs out into the stable +yard.) + +LOUKA (as she puts the coffee pot and the cups upon the tray, +and carries it into the house). You'll never put the soul of a +servant into me. + + (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.) + +PETKOFF (pointing to the table with his whip). Breakfast out +here, eh? + +NICOLA. Yes, sir. The mistress and Miss Raina have just gone in. + +PETKOFF (fitting down and taking a roll). Go in and say I've +come; and get me some fresh coffee. + +NICOLA. It's coming, sir. (He goes to the house door. Louka, +with fresh coffee, a clean cup, and a brandy bottle on her tray +meets him.) Have you told the mistress? + +LOUKA. Yes: she's coming. + + (Nicola goes into the house. Louka brings the + coffee to the table.) + +PETKOFF. Well, the Servians haven't run away with you, have +they? + +LOUKA. No, sir. + +PETKOFF. That's right. Have you brought me some cognac? + +LOUKA (putting the bottle on the table). Here, sir. + +PETKOFF. That's right. (He pours some into his coffee.) + + (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.) + +CATHERINE. My dear Paul, what a surprise for us. (She stoops +over the back of his chair to kiss him.) Have they brought you +fresh coffee? + +PETKOFF. 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. + +CATHERINE (springing erect, with flashing eyes). The war over! +Paul: have you let the Austrians force you to make peace? + +PETKOFF (submissively). My dear: they didn't consult me. What +could _I_ do? (She sits down and turns away from him.) But of +course we saw to it that the treaty was an honorable one. It +declares peace-- + +CATHERINE (outraged). Peace! + +PETKOFF (appeasing her).--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? + +CATHERINE. You could have annexed Servia and made Prince +Alexander Emperor of the Balkans. That's what I would have done. + +PETKOFF. 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. + +CATHERINE (relenting). Ah! (Stretches her hand affectionately +across the table to squeeze his.) + +PETKOFF. And how have you been, my dear? + +CATHERINE. Oh, my usual sore throats, that's all. + +PETKOFF (with conviction). That comes from washing your neck +every day. I've often told you so. + +CATHERINE. Nonsense, Paul! + +PETKOFF (over his coffee and cigaret). 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. + +CATHERINE. You are a barbarian at heart still, Paul. I hope you +behaved yourself before all those Russian officers. + +PETKOFF. I did my best. I took care to let them know that we had +a library. + +CATHERINE. Ah; but you didn't tell them that we have an electric +bell in it? I have had one put up. + +PETKOFF. What's an electric bell? + +CATHERINE. You touch a button; something tinkles in the kitchen; +and then Nicola comes up. + +PETKOFF. Why not shout for him? + +CATHERINE. Civilized people never shout for their servants. I've +learnt that while you were away. + +PETKOFF. 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 (indicating +the clothes on the bushes) put somewhere else. + +CATHERINE. Oh, that's absurd, Paul: I don't believe really +refined people notice such things. + + (Someone is heard knocking at the stable gates.) + +PETKOFF. There's Sergius. (Shouting.) Hollo, Nicola! + +CATHERINE. Oh, don't shout, Paul: it really isn't nice. + +PETKOFF. Bosh! (He shouts louder than before.) Nicola! + +NICOLA (appearing at the house door). Yes, sir. + +PETKOFF. If that is Major Saranoff, bring him round this way. +(He pronounces the name with the stress on the second +syllable--Sarah-noff.) + +NICOLA. Yes, sir. (He goes into the stable yard.) + +PETKOFF. 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. + +CATHERINE. He certainly ought to be promoted when he marries +Raina. Besides, the country should insist on having at least one +native general. + +PETKOFF. 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. + +NICOLA (at the gate, announcing). Major Sergius Saranoff! (He +goes into the house and returns presently with a third chair, +which he places at the table. He then withdraws.) + + (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.) + +PETKOFF. Here already, Sergius. Glad to see you! + +CATHERINE. My dear Sergius!(She holds out both her hands.) + +SERGIUS (kissing them with scrupulous gallantry). My dear +mother, if I may call you so. + +PETKOFF (drily). Mother-in-law, Sergius; mother-in-law! Sit +down, and have some coffee. + +SERGIUS. Thank you, none for me. (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.) + +CATHERINE. 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. + +SERGIUS (with grave irony). Madam: it was the cradle and the +grave of my military reputation. + +CATHERINE. How so? + +SERGIUS. 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. + +CATHERINE. You shall not remain so, Sergius. The women are on +your side; and they will see that justice is done you. + +SERGIUS. It is too late. I have only waited for the peace to +send in my resignation. + +PETKOFF (dropping his cup in his amazement). Your resignation! + +CATHERINE. Oh, you must withdraw it! + +SERGIUS (with resolute, measured emphasis, folding his arms). I +never withdraw! + +PETKOFF (vexed). Now who could have supposed you were going to +do such a thing? + +SERGIUS (with fire). Everyone that knew me. But enough of +myself and my affairs. How is Raina; and where is Raina? + +RAINA (suddenly coming round the corner of the house and +standing at the top of the steps in the path). Raina is here. +(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.) + +PETKOFF (aside to Catherine, beaming with parental pride). +Pretty, isn't it? She always appears at the right moment. + +CATHERINE (impatiently). Yes: she listens for it. It is an +abominable habit. + + (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.) + +RAINA (stooping and kissing her father). Dear father! Welcome +home! + +PETKOFF (patting her cheek). My little pet girl. (He kisses +her; she goes to the chair left by Nicola for Sergius, and sits +down.) + +CATHERINE. And so you're no longer a soldier, Sergius. + +SERGIUS. 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! + +PETKOFF. 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. + +SERGIUS. 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. + +PETKOFF. What, that Swiss fellow? Sergius: I've often thought of +that exchange since. He over-reached us about those horses. + +SERGIUS. 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. (With mock enthusiasm.) 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! + +CATHERINE. A Swiss? What was he doing in the Servian army? + +PETKOFF. A volunteer of course--keen on picking up his +profession. (Chuckling.) 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. + +RAINA. Are there many Swiss officers in the Servian Army? + +PETKOFF. 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! + +SERGIUS. We were two children in the hands of that consummate +soldier, Major: simply two innocent little children. + +RAINA. What was he like? + +CATHERINE. Oh, Raina, what a silly question! + +SERGIUS. He was like a commercial traveller in uniform. +Bourgeois to his boots. + +PETKOFF (grinning). 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. + +SERGIUS (with bitter irony). 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. + +RAINA (rising with marked stateliness). Your life in the camp +has made you coarse, Sergius. I did not think you would have +repeated such a story before me. (She turns away coldly.) + +CATHERINE (also rising). She is right, Sergius. If such women +exist, we should be spared the knowledge of them. + +PETKOFF. Pooh! nonsense! what does it matter? + +SERGIUS (ashamed). No, Petkoff: I was wrong. (To Raina, with +earnest humility.) I beg your pardon. I have behaved abominably. +Forgive me, Raina. (She bows reservedly.) And you, too, madam. +(Catherine bows graciously and sits down. He proceeds solemnly, +again addressing Raina.) 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--(Here, turning to the others, he +is evidently about to begin a long speech when the Major +interrupts him.) + +PETKOFF. 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. (He rises.) +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 Sophia route. +(He goes towards the house.) Come along. (Sergius is about to +follow him when Catherine rises and intervenes.) + +CATHERINE. 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. + +SERGIUS (protesting). My dear madam, impossible: you-- + +CATHERINE (stopping him playfully). You stay here, my dear +Sergius: there's no hurry. I have a word or two to say to Paul. +(Sergius instantly bows and steps back.) Now, dear (taking +Petkoff's arm), come and see the electric bell. + +PETKOFF. Oh, very well, very well. (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.) + + (Exit R. into house, followed by Catherine.) + +SERGIUS (hastening to her, but refraining from touching her +without express permission). Am I forgiven? + +RAINA (placing her hands on his shoulder as she looks up at him +with admiration and worship). My hero! My king. + +SERGIUS. My queen! (He kisses her on the forehead with holy +awe.) + +RAINA. 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. + +SERGIUS. 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! + +RAINA. And you have never been absent from my thoughts for a +moment. (Very solemnly.) 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. + +SERGIUS. My lady, and my saint! (Clasping her reverently.) + +RAINA (returning his embrace). My lord and my g-- + +SERGIUS. Sh--sh! Let me be the worshipper, dear. You little know +how unworthy even the best man is of a girl's pure passion! + +RAINA. I trust you. I love you. You will never disappoint me, +Sergius. (Louka is heard singing within the house. They quickly +release each other.) Hush! I can't pretend to talk indifferently +before her: my heart is too full. (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 will go and get my hat; and +then we can go out until lunch time. Wouldn't you like that? + +SERGIUS. Be quick. If you are away five minutes, it will seem +five hours. (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) Louka: do you know what +the higher love is? + +LOUKA (astonished). No, sir. + +SERGIUS. Very fatiguing thing to keep up for any length of time, +Louka. One feels the need of some relief after it. + +LOUKA (innocently). Perhaps you would like some coffee, sir? +(She stretches her hand across the table for the coffee pot.) + +SERGIUS (taking her hand). Thank you, Louka. + +LOUKA (pretending to pull). Oh, sir, you know I didn't mean +that. I'm surprised at you! + +SERGIUS (coming clear of the table and drawing her with him). 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? (Letting go her hand +and slipping his arm dexterously round her waist.) Do you +consider my figure handsome, Louka? + +LOUKA. Let me go, sir. I shall be disgraced. (She struggles: he +holds her inexorably.) Oh, will you let go? + +SERGIUS (looking straight into her eyes). No. + +LOUKA. Then stand back where we can't be seen. Have you no +common sense? + +SERGIUS. Ah, that's reasonable. (He takes her into the +stableyard gateway, where they are hidden from the house.) + +LOUKA (complaining). I may have been seen from the windows: +Miss Raina is sure to be spying about after you. + +SERGIUS (stung--letting her go). Take care, Louka. I may be +worthless enough to betray the higher love; but do not you +insult it. + +LOUKA (demurely). Not for the world, sir, I'm sure. May I go on +with my work please, now? + +SERGIUS (again putting his arm round her). You are a provoking +little witch, Louka. If you were in love with me, would you spy +out of windows on me? + +LOUKA. 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. + +SERGIUS (charmed). Witty as well as pretty. (He tries to kiss +her.) + +LOUKA (avoiding him). 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. + +SERGIUS (recoiling a step). Louka! + +LOUKA. It shews how little you really care! + +SERGIUS (dropping his familiarity and speaking with freezing +politeness). 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. + +LOUKA. 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. + +SERGIUS (turning from her and striking his forehead as he comes +back into the garden from the gateway). Devil! devil! + +LOUKA. Ha! ha! I expect one of the six of you is very like me, +sir, though I am only Miss Raina's maid. (She goes back to her +work at the table, taking no further notice of him.) + +SERGIUS (speaking to himself). 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. (He pauses and looks furtively at Louka, as +he adds with deep bitterness) And one, at least, is a +coward--jealous, like all cowards. (He goes to the table.) +Louka. + +LOUKA. Yes? + +SERGIUS. Who is my rival? + +LOUKA. You shall never get that out of me, for love or money. + +SERGIUS. Why? + +LOUKA. Never mind why. Besides, you would tell that I told you; +and I should lose my place. + +SERGIUS (holding out his right hand in affirmation). No; on the +honor of a--(He checks himself, and his hand drops nerveless as +he concludes, sardonically)--of a man capable of behaving as I +have been behaving for the last five minutes. Who is he? + +LOUKA. I don't know. I never saw him. I only heard his voice +through the door of her room. + +SERGIUS. Damnation! How dare you? + +LOUKA (retreating). 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. (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.) + +SERGIUS. Now listen you to me! + +LOUKA (wincing). Not so tight: you're hurting me! + +SERGIUS. That doesn't matter. You have stained my honor by +making me a party to your eavesdropping. And you have betrayed +your mistress-- + +LOUKA (writhing). Please-- + +SERGIUS. That shews that you are an abominable little clod of +common clay, with the soul of a servant. (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.) + +LOUKA (whimpering angrily with her hands up her sleeves, +feeling her bruised arms). 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. (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.) + +SERGIUS. Louka! (She stops and looks defiantly at him with the +tray in her hands.) A gentleman has no right to hurt a woman +under any circumstances. (With profound humility, uncovering his +head.) I beg your pardon. + +LOUKA. That sort of apology may satisfy a lady. Of what use is +it to a servant? + +SERGIUS (thus rudely crossed in his chivalry, throws it off +with a bitter laugh and says slightingly). Oh, you wish to be +paid for the hurt? (He puts on his shako, and takes some money +from his pocket.) + +LOUKA (her eyes filling with tears in spite of herself). No, I +want my hurt made well. + +SERGIUS (sobered by her tone). How? + + (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) + +SERGIUS. Never! (and gets away as far as possible from her.) + + (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.) + +RAINA. I'm ready! What's the matter? (Gaily.) Have you been +flirting with Louka? + +SERGIUS (hastily). No, no. How can you think such a thing? + +RAINA (ashamed of herself). Forgive me, dear: it was only a +jest. I am so happy to-day. + + (He goes quickly to her, and kisses her hand + remorsefully. Catherine comes out and calls + to them from the top of the steps.) + +CATHERINE (coming down to them). 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. + +RAINA (disappointed). But we are just going out for a walk. + +SERGIUS. I shall not be long. Wait for me just five minutes. (He +runs up the steps to the door.) + +RAINA (following him to the foot of the steps and looking up at +him with timid coquetry). 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. + +SERGIUS (laughing). Very well. (He goes in. Raina watches him +until he is out of her right. Then, with a perceptible +relaxation of manner, she begins to pace up and down about the +garden in a brown study.) + +CATHERINE. 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! + +RAINA (gazing thoughtfully at the gravel as she walks). The +little beast! + +CATHERINE. Little beast! What little beast? + +RAINA. To go and tell! Oh, if I had him here, I'd stuff him with +chocolate creams till he couldn't ever speak again! + +CATHERINE. Don't talk nonsense. Tell me the truth, Raina. How +long was he in your room before you came to me? + +RAINA (whisking round and recommencing her march in the +opposite direction). Oh, I forget. + +CATHERINE. You cannot forget! Did he really climb up after the +soldiers were gone, or was he there when that officer searched +the room? + +RAINA. No. Yes, I think he must have been there then. + +CATHERINE. You think! Oh, Raina, Raina! Will anything ever make +you straightforward? If Sergius finds out, it is all over +between you. + +RAINA (with cool impertinence). 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. + +CATHERINE (opening her eyes very widely indeed). Well, upon my +word! + +RAINA (capriciously--half to herself). 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! (To +Catherine perversely.) I don't care whether he finds out about +the chocolate cream soldier or not. I half hope he may. (She +again turns flippantly away and strolls up the path to the +corner of the house.) + +CATHERINE. And what should I be able to say to your father, +pray? + +RAINA (over her shoulder, from the top of the two steps). Oh, +poor father! As if he could help himself! (She turns the corner +and passes out of sight.) + +CATHERINE (looking after her, her fingers itching). Oh, if you +were only ten years younger! (Louka comes from the house with a +salver, which she carries hanging down by her side.) Well? + +LOUKA. There's a gentleman just called, madam--a Servian +officer-- + +CATHERINE (flaming). A Servian! How dare he--(Checking herself +bitterly.) 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? + +LOUKA. 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. (She takes a card out of her bosom; puts +it on the salver and offers it to Catherine.) + +CATHERINE (reading). "Captain Bluntschli!" That's a German +name. + +LOUKA. Swiss, madam, I think. + +CATHERINE (with a bound that makes Louka jump back). Swiss! +What is he like? + +LOUKA (timidly). He has a big carpet bag, madam. + +CATHERINE. 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! (She +throws herself into a chair to think it out. Louka waits.) The +master and Major Saranoff are busy in the library, aren't they? + +LOUKA. Yes, madam. + +CATHERINE (decisively). Bring the gentleman out here at once. +(Imperatively.) And be very polite to him. Don't delay. Here +(impatiently snatching the salver from her): leave that here; +and go straight back to him. + +LOUKA. Yes, madam. (Going.) + +CATHERINE. Louka! + +LOUKA (stopping). Yes, madam. + +CATHERINE. Is the library door shut? + +LOUKA. I think so, madam. + +CATHERINE. If not, shut it as you pass through. + +LOUKA. Yes, madam. (Going.) + +CATHERINE. Stop! (Louka stops.) He will have to go out that way +(indicating the gate of the stable yard). Tell Nicola to bring +his bag here after him. Don't forget. + +LOUKA (surprised). His bag? + +CATHERINE. Yes, here, as soon as possible. (Vehemently.) Be +quick! (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.) Oh, +how--how--how can a man be such a fool! Such a moment to select! +(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.) Captain +Bluntschli, I am very glad to see you; but you must leave this +house at once. (He raises his eyebrows.) 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? + +BLUNTSCHLI (disappointed, but philosophical). 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. (He +turns to go into the house.) + +CATHERINE (catching him by the sleeve). Oh, you must not think +of going back that way. (Coaxing him across to the stable +gates.) This is the shortest way out. Many thanks. So glad to +have been of service to you. Good-bye. + +BLUNTSCHLI. But my bag? + +CATHERINE. It will be sent on. You will leave me your address. + +BLUNTSCHLI. True. Allow me. (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.) + +PETKOFF (as he hurries down the steps). My dear Captain +Bluntschli-- + +CATHERINE. Oh Heavens! (She sinks on the seat against the wall.) + +PETKOFF (too preoccupied to notice her as he shakes +Bluntschli's hand heartily). Those stupid people of mine thought +I was out here, instead of in the--haw!--library. (He cannot +mention the library without betraying how proud he is of it.) 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? + +SERGIUS (saluting humorously, and then offering his hand with +great charm of manner). Welcome, our friend the enemy! + +PETKOFF. No longer the enemy, happily. (Rather anxiously.) I +hope you've come as a friend, and not on business. + +CATHERINE. Oh, quite as a friend, Paul. I was just asking +Captain Bluntschli to stay to lunch; but he declares he must go +at once. + +SERGIUS (sardonically). 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. + +BLUNTSCHLI (suddenly attentive and business-like). +Phillipopolis! The forage is the trouble, eh? + +PETKOFF (eagerly). Yes, that's it. (To Sergius.) He sees the +whole thing at once. + +BLUNTSCHLI. I think I can shew you how to manage that. + +SERGIUS. Invaluable man! Come along! (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.) + +RAINA (completely losing her presence of mind). Oh, the +chocolate cream soldier! + + (Bluntschli stands rigid. Sergius, amazed, looks + at Raina, then at Petkoff, who looks back at him + and then at his wife.) + +CATHERINE (with commanding presence of mind). My dear Raina, +don't you see that we have a guest here--Captain Bluntschli, one +of our new Servian friends? + + (Raina bows; Bluntschli bows.) + +RAINA. How silly of me! (She comes down into the centre of the +group, between Bluntschli and Petkoff) 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. +(To Bluntschli, winningly.) I hope you didn't think that you +were the chocolate cream soldier, Captain Bluntschli. + +BLUNTSCHLI (laughing). I assure you I did. (Stealing a +whimsical glance at her.) Your explanation was a relief. + +PETKOFF (suspiciously, to Raina). And since when, pray, have +you taken to cooking? + +CATHERINE. Oh, whilst you were away. It is her latest fancy. + +PETKOFF (testily). 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--(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) Are you mad, Nicola? + +NICOLA (taken aback). Sir? + +PETKOFF. What have you brought that for? + +NICOLA. My lady's orders, sir. Louka told me that-- + +CATHERINE (interrupting him). My orders! Why should I order you +to bring Captain Bluntschli's luggage out here? What are you +thinking of, Nicola? + +NICOLA (after a moment's bewilderment, picking up the bag as he +addresses Bluntschli with the very perfection of servile +discretion). I beg your pardon, sir, I am sure. (To Catherine.) +My fault, madam! I hope you'll overlook it! (He bows, and is +going to the steps with the bag, when Petkoff addresses him +angrily.) + +PETKOFF. You'd better go and slam that bag, too, down on Miss +Raina's ice pudding! (This is too much for Nicola. The bag drops +from his hands on Petkoff's corns, eliciting a roar of anguish +from him.) Begone, you butter-fingered donkey. + +NICOLA (snatching up the bag, and escaping into the house). +Yes, sir. + +CATHERINE. Oh, never mind, Paul, don't be angry! + +PETKOFF (muttering). Scoundrel. He's got out of hand while I +was away. I'll teach him. (Recollecting his guest.) 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. + +RAINA. Oh, do, Captain Bluntschli. + +PETKOFF (to Catherine). Now, Catherine, it's of you that he's +afraid. Press him and he'll stay. + +CATHERINE. Of course I shall be only too delighted if +(appealingly) Captain Bluntschli really wishes to stay. He knows +my wishes. + +BLUNTSCHLI (in his driest military manner). I am at madame's +orders. + +SERGIUS (cordially). That settles it! + +PETKOFF (heartily). Of course! + +RAINA. You see, you must stay! + +BLUNTSCHLI (smiling). Well, If I must, I must! +(Gesture of despair from Catherine.) + + + + +ACT III + + 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. + + 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. + + The door is on the left. The button of the + electric bell is between the door and the + fireplace. + +PETKOFF (looking up from his paper to watch how they are +getting on at the table). Are you sure I can't help you in any +way, Bluntschli? + +BLUNTSCHLI (without interrupting his writing or looking up). +Quite sure, thank you. Saranoff and I will manage it. + +SERGIUS (grimly). Yes: we'll manage it. He finds out what to +do; draws up the orders; and I sign 'em. Division of labour, +Major. (Bluntschli passes him a paper.) Another one? Thank you. +(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.) This hand +is more accustomed to the sword than to the pen. + +PETKOFF. 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? + +CATHERINE (in a low, warning tone). You can stop interrupting, +Paul. + +PETKOFF (starting and looking round at her). Eh? Oh! Quite +right, my love, quite right. (He takes his newspaper up, but +lets it drop again.) 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. + +CATHERINE. What is that? + +PETKOFF. My old coat. I'm not at home in this one: I feel as if +I were on parade. + +CATHERINE. My dear Paul, how absurd you are about that old coat! +It must be hanging in the blue closet where you left it. + +PETKOFF. My dear Catherine, I tell you I've looked there. Am I +to believe my own eyes or not? (Catherine quietly rises and +presses the button of the electric bell by the fireplace.) What +are you shewing off that bell for? (She looks at him majestically, +and silently resumes her chair and her needlework.) 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. (Nicola presents himself.) + +CATHERINE (unmoved by Petkoff's sally). Nicola: go to the blue +closet and bring your master's old coat here--the braided one he +usually wears in the house. + +NICOLA. Yes, madam. (Nicola goes out.) + +PETKOFF. Catherine. + +CATHERINE. Yes, Paul? + +PETKOFF. I bet you any piece of jewellery you like to order from +Sophia against a week's housekeeping money, that the coat isn't +there. + +CATHERINE. Done, Paul. + +PETKOFF (excited by the prospect of a gamble). Come: here's an +opportunity for some sport. Who'll bet on it? Bluntschli: I'll +give you six to one. + +BLUNTSCHLI (imperturbably). It would be robbing you, Major. +Madame is sure to be right. (Without looking up, he passes +another batch of papers to Sergius.) + +SERGIUS (also excited). Bravo, Switzerland! Major: I bet my +best charger against an Arab mare for Raina that Nicola finds +the coat in the blue closet. + +PETKOFF (eagerly). Your best char-- + +CATHERINE (hastily interrupting him). Don't be foolish, Paul. +An Arabian mare will cost you 50,000 levas. + +RAINA (suddenly coming out of her picturesque revery). Really, +mother, if you are going to take the jewellery, I don't see why +you should grudge me my Arab. + + (Nicola comes back with the coat and brings it + to Petkoff, who can hardly believe his eyes.) + +CATHERINE. Where was it, Nicola? + +NICOLA. Hanging in the blue closet, madam. + +PETKOFF. Well, I am d-- + +CATHERINE (stopping him). Paul! + +PETKOFF. I could have sworn it wasn't there. Age is beginning to +tell on me. I'm getting hallucinations. (To Nicola.) Here: help +me to change. Excuse me, Bluntschli. (He begins changing coats, +Nicola acting as valet.) 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? (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) She's dreaming, as usual. + +SERGIUS. Assuredly she shall not be the loser. + +PETKOFF. So much the better for her. I shan't come off so cheap, +I expect. (The change is now complete. Nicola goes out with the +discarded coat.) Ah, now I feel at home at last. (He sits down +and takes his newspaper with a grunt of relief.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (to Sergius, handing a paper). That's the last +order. + +PETKOFF (jumping up). What! finished? + +BLUNTSCHLI. Finished. (Petkoff goes beside Sergius; looks +curiously over his left shoulder as he signs; and says with +childlike envy) Haven't you anything for me to sign? + +BLUNTSCHLI. Not necessary. His signature will do. + +PETKOFF. Ah, well, I think we've done a thundering good day's +work. (He goes away from the table.) Can I do anything more? + +BLUNTSCHLI. You had better both see the fellows that are to take +these. (To Sergius.) 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. + +SERGIUS (rising indignantly). 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. (He strides out, his humanity +deeply outraged.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (confidentially). Just see that he talks to them +properly, Major, will you? + +PETKOFF (officiously). Quite right, Bluntschli, quite right. +I'll see to it. (He goes to the door importantly, but hesitates +on the threshold.) By the bye, Catherine, you may as well come, +too. They'll be far more frightened of you than of me. + +CATHERINE (putting down her embroidery). I daresay I had +better. You will only splutter at them. (She goes out, Petkoff +holding the door for her and following her.) + +BLUNTSCHLI. What a country! They make cannons out of cherry +trees; and the officers send for their wives to keep discipline! +(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.) + +RAINA. You look ever so much nicer than when we last met. (He +looks up, surprised.) What have you done to yourself? + +BLUNTSCHLI. Washed; brushed; good night's sleep and breakfast. +That's all. + +RAINA. Did you get back safely that morning? + +BLUNTSCHLI. Quite, thanks. + +RAINA. Were they angry with you for running away from Sergius's +charge? + +BLUNTSCHLI. No, they were glad; because they'd all just run away +themselves. + +RAINA (going to the table, and leaning over it towards him). It +must have made a lovely story for them--all that about me and my +room. + +BLUNTSCHLI. Capital story. But I only told it to one of them--a +particular friend. + +RAINA. On whose discretion you could absolutely rely? + +BLUNTSCHLI. Absolutely. + +RAINA. Hm! He told it all to my father and Sergius the day you +exchanged the prisoners. (She turns away and strolls carelessly +across to the other side of the room.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (deeply concerned and half incredulous). No! you +don't mean that, do you? + +RAINA (turning, with sudden earnestness). 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. + +BLUNTSCHLI. Bless me! then don't tell him. + +RAINA (full of reproach for his levity). 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. + +BLUNTSCHLI (sceptically). You mean that you wouldn't like him +to find out that the story about the ice pudding was +a--a--a--You know. + +RAINA (wincing). 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. +(Bluntschli rises quickly and looks doubtfully and somewhat +severely at her.) Do you remember the first time? + +BLUNTSCHLI. I! No. Was I present? + +RAINA. Yes; and I told the officer who was searching for you +that you were not present. + +BLUNTSCHLI. True. I should have remembered it. + +RAINA (greatly encouraged). Ah, it is natural that you should +forget it first. It cost you nothing: it cost me a lie!--a lie!! +(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.) + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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 (Raina recoils): the other is +getting his life saved in all sorts of ways by all sorts of +people. + +RAINA (rising in indignant protest). And so he becomes a +creature incapable of faith and of gratitude. + +BLUNTSCHLI (making a wry face). Do you like gratitude? I don't. +If pity is akin to love, gratitude is akin to the other thing. + +RAINA. Gratitude! (Turning on him.) 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. (She walks up the room melodramatically.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (dubiously). 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. + +RAINA (staring haughtily at him). Do you know, sir, that you +are insulting me? + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. + +RAINA (superbly). Captain Bluntschli! + +BLUNTSCHLI (unmoved). Yes? + +RAINA (coming a little towards him, as if she could not believe +her senses). Do you mean what you said just now? Do you know +what you said just now? + +BLUNTSCHLI. I do. + +RAINA (gasping). 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) How +did you find me out? + +BLUNTSCHLI (promptly). Instinct, dear young lady. Instinct, and +experience of the world. + +RAINA (wonderingly). Do you know, you are the first man I ever +met who did not take me seriously? + +BLUNTSCHLI. You mean, don't you, that I am the first man that +has ever taken you quite seriously? + +RAINA. Yes, I suppose I do mean that. (Cosily, quite at her ease +with him.) 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. + +BLUNTSCHLI. Yes: he's a little in that line himself, isn't he? + +RAINA (startled). Do you think so? + +BLUNTSCHLI. You know him better than I do. + +RAINA. I wonder--I wonder is he? If I thought that--! +(Discouraged.) Ah, well, what does it matter? I suppose, now +that you've found me out, you despise me. + +BLUNTSCHLI (warmly, rising). 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. + +RAINA (pleased). Really? + +BLUNTSCHLI (slapping his breast smartly with his hand, German +fashion). Hand aufs Herz! Really and truly. + +RAINA (very happy). But what did you think of me for giving you +my portrait? + +BLUNTSCHLI (astonished). Your portrait! You never gave me your +portrait. + +RAINA (quickly). Do you mean to say you never got it? + +BLUNTSCHLI. No. (He sits down beside her, with renewed interest, +and says, with some complacency.) When did you send it to me? + +RAINA (indignantly). I did not send it to you. (She turns her +head away, and adds, reluctantly.) It was in the pocket of that +coat. + +BLUNTSCHLI (pursing his lips and rounding his eyes). Oh-o-oh! I +never found it. It must be there still. + +RAINA (springing up). There still!--for my father to find the +first time he puts his hand in his pocket! Oh, how could you be +so stupid? + +BLUNTSCHLI (rising also). 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. + +RAINA (impatiently). Yes, that is so clever--so clever! What +shall I do? + +BLUNTSCHLI. Ah, I see. You wrote something on it. That was rash! + +RAINA (annoyed almost to tears). 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? + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. + +RAINA. What did you do with it? + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. + +RAINA. Pawned it!!! + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. + +RAINA (furious--throwing the words right into his face). You +have a low, shopkeeping mind. You think of things that would +never come into a gentleman's head. + +BLUNTSCHLI (phlegmatically). That's the Swiss national +character, dear lady. + +RAINA. Oh, I wish I had never met you. (She flounces away and +sits at the window fuming.) + + (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.) + +LOUKA (to Bluntschli). For you. (She empties the salver +recklessly on the table.) The messenger is waiting. (She is +determined not to be civil to a Servian, even if she must bring +him his letters.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (to Raina). 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. (He opens +one.) Oho! Bad news! + +RAINA (rising and advancing a little remorsefully). Bad news? + +BLUNTSCHLI. My father's dead. (He looks at the telegram with his +lips pursed, musing on the unexpected change in his +arrangements.) + +RAINA. Oh, how very sad! + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. +(Takes up a heavy letter in a long blue envelope.) Here's a +whacking letter from the family solicitor. (He pulls out the +enclosures and glances over them.) Great Heavens! Seventy! Two +hundred! (In a crescendo of dismay.) Four hundred! Four +thousand!! Nine thousand six hundred!!! What on earth shall I do +with them all? + +RAINA (timidly). Nine thousand hotels? + +BLUNTSCHLI. Hotels! Nonsense. If you only knew!--oh, it's too +ridiculous! Excuse me: I must give my fellow orders about +starting. (He leaves the room hastily, with the documents in his +hand.) + +LOUKA (tauntingly). 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. + +RAINA (bitterly). Grief!--a man who has been doing nothing but +killing people for years! What does he care? What does any +soldier care? (She goes to the door, evidently restraining her +tears with difficulty.) + +LOUKA. Major Saranoff has been fighting, too; and he has plenty +of heart left. (Raina, at the door, looks haughtily at her and +goes out.) Aha! I thought you wouldn't get much feeling out of +your soldier. (She is following Raina when Nicola enters with an +armful of logs for the fire.) + +NICOLA (grinning amorously at her). I've been trying all the +afternoon to get a minute alone with you, my girl. (His +countenance changes as he notices her arm.) Why, what fashion is +that of wearing your sleeve, child? + +LOUKA (proudly). My own fashion. + +NICOLA. Indeed! If the mistress catches you, she'll talk to you. +(He throws the logs down on the ottoman, and sits comfortably +beside them.) + +LOUKA. Is that any reason why you should take it on yourself to +talk to me? + +NICOLA. Come: don't be so contrary with me. I've some good news +for you. (He takes out some paper money. Louka, with an eager +gleam in her eyes, comes close to look at it.) 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. + +LOUKA (scornfully). 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. + +NICOLA (picking up his logs, and going to the stove). Ah, wait +till you see. We shall have our evenings to ourselves; and I +shall be master in my own house, I promise you. (He throws the +logs down and kneels at the stove.) + +LOUKA. You shall never be master in mine. (She sits down on +Sergius's chair.) + +NICOLA (turning, still on his knees, and squatting down rather +forlornly, on his calves, daunted by her implacable disdain). +You have a great ambition in you, Louka. Remember: if any luck +comes to you, it was I that made a woman of you. + +LOUKA. You! + +NICOLA (with dogged self-assertion). 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! (She tosses her head +defiantly; and he rises, ill-humoredly, adding more coolly) 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. + +LOUKA. 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. + +NICOLA (going up close to her for greater emphasis). 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 imprudent; 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. + +LOUKA (rising impatiently). 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. (Before Nicola can retort, Sergius comes +in. He checks himself a moment on seeing Louka; then goes to the +stove.) + +SERGIUS (to Nicola). I am not in the way of your work, I hope. + +NICOLA (in a smooth, elderly manner). 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. (To Louka.) Make that table +tidy, Louka, for the Major. (He goes out sedately.) + + (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.) + +SERGIUS. Let me see: is there a mark there? (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.) +Ffff! Does it hurt? + +LOUKA. Yes. + +SERGIUS. Shall I cure it? + +LOUKA (instantly withdrawing herself proudly, but still not +looking at him). No. You cannot cure it now. + +SERGIUS (masterfully). Quite sure? (He makes a movement as if +to take her in his arms.) + +LOUKA. Don't trifle with me, please. An officer should not +trifle with a servant. + +SERGIUS (touching the arm with a merciless stroke of his +forefinger). That was no trifle, Louka. + +LOUKA. No. (Looking at him for the first time.) Are you sorry? + +SERGIUS (with measured emphasis, folding his arms). I am never +sorry. + +LOUKA (wistfully). I wish I could believe a man could be so +unlike a woman as that. I wonder are you really a brave man? + +SERGIUS (unaffectedly, relaxing his attitude). 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. + +LOUKA. 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? + +SERGIUS (with bitter levity.) 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 (with a short, bitter +laugh) I am an officer. Oh, (fervently) 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. + +LOUKA. 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. + +SERGIUS (ironically). Indeed! I am willing to be instructed. + +LOUKA. 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 (with subdued passion) 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. + +SERGIUS. What would you do, most noble Empress? + +LOUKA. 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. + +SERGIUS (carried away). 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. + +LOUKA. 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. + +SERGIUS (recoiling). The Swiss! + +LOUKA. A man worth ten of you. Then you can come to me; and I +will refuse you. You are not good enough for me. (She turns to +the door.) + +SERGIUS (springing after her and catching her fiercely in his +arms). I will kill the Swiss; and afterwards I will do as I +please with you. + +LOUKA (in his arms, passive and steadfast). The Swiss will kill +you, perhaps. He has beaten you in love. He may beat you in war. + +SERGIUS (tormentedly). 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? + +LOUKA. Do you think she would believe the Swiss if he told her +now that I am in your arms? + +SERGIUS (releasing her in despair). Damnation! Oh, damnation! +Mockery, mockery everywhere: everything I think is mocked by +everything I do. (He strikes himself frantically on the breast.) +Coward, liar, fool! Shall I kill myself like a man, or live and +pretend to laugh at myself? (She again turns to go.) Louka! (She +stops near the door.) Remember: you belong to me. + +LOUKA (quietly). What does that mean--an insult? + +SERGIUS (commandingly). 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 (vehemently) 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. + +LOUKA. We shall see whether you dare keep your word. But take +care. I will not wait long. + +SERGIUS (again folding his arms and standing motionless in the +middle of the room). Yes, we shall see. And you shall wait my +pleasure. + + (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.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (absently, sitting at the table as before, and +putting down his papers). That's a remarkable looking young +woman. + +SERGIUS (gravely, without moving). Captain Bluntschli. + +BLUNTSCHLI. Eh? + +SERGIUS. 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? + +BLUNTSCHLI (staring, but sitting quite at his ease). 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. + +SERGIUS (flushing, but with deadly coldness). Take care, sir. +It is not our custom in Bulgaria to allow invitations of that +kind to be trifled with. + +BLUNTSCHLI (warmly). 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. + +SERGIUS (fiercely delighted to find his opponent a man of +spirit). Well said, Switzer. Shall I lend you my best horse? + +BLUNTSCHLI. No: damn your horse!---thank you all the same, my +dear fellow. (Raina comes in, and hears the next sentence.) I +shall fight you on foot. Horseback's too dangerous: I don't want +to kill you if I can help it. + +RAINA (hurrying forward anxiously). I have heard what Captain +Bluntschli said, Sergius. You are going to fight. Why? (Sergius +turns away in silence, and goes to the stove, where he stands +watching her as she continues, to Bluntschli) What about? + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. + +RAINA (turning away deeply hurt, almost with a sob in her +voice). I never said I wanted to see you again. + +SERGIUS (striding forward). Ha! That is a confession. + +RAINA (haughtily). What do you mean? + +SERGIUS. You love that man! + +RAINA (scandalized). Sergius! + +SERGIUS. 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. + +BLUNTSCHLI (jumping up indignantly). Stuff! Rubbish! I have +received no favours. Why, the young lady doesn't even know +whether I'm married or not. + +RAINA (forgetting herself). Oh! (Collapsing on the ottoman.) +Are you? + +SERGIUS. 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-- + +BLUNTSCHLI (interrupting him pepperily). 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. + +SERGIUS (taken aback). Bluntschli! Raina: is this true? + +RAINA (rising in wrathful majesty). Oh, how dare you, how dare +you? + +BLUNTSCHLI. Apologize, man, apologize! (He resumes his seat at +the table.) + +SERGIUS (with the old measured emphasis, folding his arms). I +never apologize. + +RAINA (passionately). This is the doing of that friend of +yours, Captain Bluntschli. It is he who is spreading this +horrible story about me. (She walks about excitedly.) + +BLUNTSCHLI. No: he's dead--burnt alive. + +RAINA (stopping, shocked). Burnt alive! + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. + +RAINA. How horrible! + +SERGIUS. And how ridiculous! Oh, war! war! the dream of patriots +and heroes! A fraud, Bluntschli, a hollow sham, like love. + +RAINA (outraged). Like love! You say that before me. + +BLUNTSCHLI. Come, Saranoff: that matter is explained. + +SERGIUS. 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. + +RAINA. Who then? (Suddenly guessing the truth.) 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! (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) 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. + +SERGIUS (with grim humor). You saw that? + +RAINA. Only too well. (She turns away, and throws herself on the +divan under the centre window, quite overcome.) + +SERGIUS (cynically). Raina: our romance is shattered. Life's a +farce. + +BLUNTSCHLI (to Raina, goodhumoredly). You see: he's found +himself out now. + +SERGIUS. 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? + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. + +SERGIUS. 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. + +BLUNTSCHLI (apologetically). 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? + +RAINA (riling). 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. + +SERGIUS. Rival!! (Striking his forehead.) + +RAINA. Did you not know that they are engaged? + +SERGIUS. Nicola! Are fresh abysses opening! Nicola!! + +RAINA (sarcastically). 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. + +SERGIUS (losing all self-control). Viper! Viper! (He rushes to +and fro, raging.) + +BLUNTSCHLI. Look here, Saranoff; you're getting the worst of +this. + +RAINA (getting angrier). 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. + +SERGIUS. False! Monstrous! + +RAINA. Monstrous! (Confronting him.) Do you deny that she told +you about Captain Bluntschli being in my room? + +SERGIUS. No; but-- + +RAINA (interrupting). Do you deny that you were making love to +her when she told you? + +SERGIUS. No; but I tell you-- + +RAINA (cutting him short contemptuously). It is unnecessary to +tell us anything more. That is quite enough for us. (She turns +her back on him and sweeps majestically back to the window.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (quietly, as Sergius, in an agony of mortification, +rinks on the ottoman, clutching his averted head between his +fists). I told you you were getting the worst of it, Saranoff. + +SERGIUS. Tiger cat! + +RAINA (running excitedly to Bluntschli). You hear this man +calling me names, Captain Bluntschli? + +BLUNTSCHLI. What else can he do, dear lady? He must defend +himself somehow. Come (very persuasively), don't quarrel. What +good does it do? (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.) + +SERGIUS. Engaged to Nicola! (He rises.) Ha! ha! (Going to the +stove and standing with his back to it.) Ah, well, Bluntschli, +you are right to take this huge imposture of a world coolly. + +RAINA (to Bluntschli with an intuitive guess at his state of +mind). I daresay you think us a couple of grown up babies, don't +you? + +SERGIUS (grinning a little). He does, he does. Swiss +civilization nursetending Bulgarian barbarism, eh? + +BLUNTSCHLI (blushing). 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? + +RAINA. Listening at the door, probably. + +SERGIUS (shivering as if a bullet had struck him, and speaking +with quiet but deep indignation). I will prove that that, at +least, is a calumny. (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) Judge her, Bluntschli--you, +the moderate, cautious man: judge the eavesdropper. + + (Louka stands her ground, proud and silent.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (shaking his head). 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. + +LOUKA. My love was at stake. (Sergius flinches, ashamed of her +in spite of himself.) I am not ashamed. + +RAINA (contemptuously). Your love! Your curiosity, you mean. + +LOUKA (facing her and retorting her contempt with interest). My +love, stronger than anything you can feel, even for your +chocolate cream soldier. + +SERGIUS (with quick suspicion--to Louka). What does that mean? + +LOUKA (fiercely). It means-- + +SERGIUS (interrupting her slightingly). Oh, I remember, the ice +pudding. A paltry taunt, girl. + + (Major Petkoff enters, in his shirtsleeves.) + +PETKOFF. 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. (He looks more attentively at them.) Is anything the +matter? + +RAINA. No. (She sits down at the stove with a tranquil air.) + +SERGIUS. Oh, no! (He sits down at the end of the table, as at +first.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (who is already seated). Nothing, nothing. + +PETKOFF (sitting down on the ottoman in his old place). That's +all right. (He notices Louka.) Anything the matter, Louka? + +LOUKA. No, sir. + +PETKOFF (genially). That's all right. (He sneezes.) Go and ask +your mistress for my coat, like a good girl, will you? (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.) + +RAINA (rising quickly, as she sees the coat on Nicola's arm). +Here it is, papa. Give it to me, Nicola; and do you put some +more wood on the fire. (She takes the coat, and brings it to the +Major, who stands up to put it on. Nicola attends to the fire.) + +PETKOFF (to Raina, teasing her affectionately). Aha! Going to +be very good to poor old papa just for one day after his return +from the wars, eh? + +RAINA (with solemn reproach). Ah, how can you say that to me, +father? + +PETKOFF. Well, well, only a joke, little one. Come, give me a +kiss. (She kisses him.) Now give me the coat. + +RAINA. Now, I am going to put it on for you. Turn your back. (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.) There, dear! Now are you +comfortable? + +PETKOFF. Quite, little love. Thanks. (He sits down; and Raina +returns to her seat near the stove.) Oh, by the bye, I've found +something funny. What's the meaning of this? (He put his hand +into the picked pocket.) Eh? Hallo! (He tries the other pocket.) +Well, I could have sworn--(Much puzzled, he tries the breast +pocket.) I wonder--(Tries the original pocket.) Where can +it--(A light flashes on him; he rises, exclaiming) Your mother's +taken it. + +RAINA (very red). Taken what? + +PETKOFF. 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. (Shouting) Nicola! + +NICOLA (dropping a log, and turning). Sir! + +PETKOFF. Did you spoil any pastry of Miss Raina's this morning? + +NICOLA. You heard Miss Raina say that I did, sir. + +PETKOFF. I know that, you idiot. Was it true? + +NICOLA. I am sure Miss Raina is incapable of saying anything +that is not true, sir. + +PETKOFF. Are you? Then I'm not. (Turning to the others.) Come: +do you think I don't see it all? (Goes to Sergius, and slaps him +on the shoulder.) Sergius: you're the chocolate cream soldier, +aren't you? + +SERGIUS (starting up). I! a chocolate cream soldier! Certainly +not. + +PETKOFF. Not! (He looks at them. They are all very serious and +very conscious.) Do you mean to tell me that Raina sends +photographic souvenirs to other men? + +SERGIUS (enigmatically). The world is not such an innocent +place as we used to think, Petkoff. + +BLUNTSCHLI (rising). It's all right, Major. I'm the chocolate +cream soldier. (Petkoff and Sergius are equally astonished.) 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. + +PETKOFF. You! (He gasps.) Sergius: do you remember how those two +women went on this morning when we mentioned it? (Sergius smiles +cynically. Petkoff confronts Raina severely.) You're a nice young +woman, aren't you? + +RAINA (bitterly). Major Saranoff has changed his mind. And when +I wrote that on the photograph, I did not know that Captain +Bluntschli was married. + +BLUNTSCHLI (much startled protesting vehemently). I'm not +married. + +RAINA (with deep reproach). You said you were. + +BLUNTSCHLI. I did not. I positively did not. I never was married +in my life. + +PETKOFF (exasperated). Raina: will you kindly inform me, if I +am not asking too much, which gentleman you are engaged to? + +RAINA. To neither of them. This young lady (introducing Louka, +who faces them all proudly) is the object of Major Saranoff's +affections at present. + +PETKOFF. Louka! Are you mad, Sergius? Why, this girl's engaged +to Nicola. + +NICOLA (coming forward ). I beg your pardon, sir. There is a +mistake. Louka is not engaged to me. + +PETKOFF. 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. + +NICOLA (with cool unction). 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 Sofea; and I look +forward to her custom and recommendation should she marry into +the nobility. (He goes out with impressive discretion, leaving +them all staring after him.) + +PETKOFF (breaking the silence). Well, I am---hm! + +SERGIUS. This is either the finest heroism or the most crawling +baseness. Which is it, Bluntschli? + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. + +LOUKA (suddenly breaking out at Sergius). I have been insulted +by everyone here. You set them the example. You owe me an +apology. (Sergius immediately, like a repeating clock of which +the spring has been touched, begins to fold his arms.) + +BLUNTSCHLI (before he can speak). It's no use. He never +apologizes. + +LOUKA. Not to you, his equal and his enemy. To me, his poor +servant, he will not refuse to apologize. + +SERGIUS (approvingly). You are right. (He bends his knee in his +grandest manner.) Forgive me! + +LOUKA. I forgive you. (She timidly gives him her hand, which he +kisses.) That touch makes me your affianced wife. + +SERGIUS (springing up). Ah, I forgot that! + +LOUKA (coldly). You can withdraw if you like. + +SERGIUS. Withdraw! Never! You belong to me! (He puts his arm +about her and draws her to him.) (Catherine comes in and finds +Louka in Sergius's arms, and all the rest gazing at them in +bewildered astonishment.) + +CATHERINE. What does this mean? (Sergius releases Louka.) + +PETKOFF. Well, my dear, it appears that Sergius is going to +marry Louka instead of Raina. (She is about to break out +indignantly at him: he stops her by exclaiming testily.) Don't +blame me: I've nothing to do with it. (He retreats to the +stove.) + +CATHERINE. Marry Louka! Sergius: you are bound by your word to +us! + +SERGIUS (folding his arms). Nothing binds me. + +BLUNTSCHLI (much pleased by this piece of common sense). +Saranoff: your hand. My congratulations. These heroics of yours +have their practical side after all. (To Louka.) Gracious young +lady: the best wishes of a good Republican! (He kisses her hand, +to Raina's great disgust.) + +CATHERINE (threateningly). Louka: you have been telling +stories. + +LOUKA. I have done Raina no harm. + +CATHERINE (haughtily). Raina! (Raina is equally indignant at +the liberty.) + +LOUKA. 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. + +BLUNTSCHLI (surprised). Hallo! + +LOUKA (turning to Raina). I thought you were fonder of him than +of Sergius. You know best whether I was right. + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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-- + +SERGIUS (starting as if a needle had pricked him and +interrupting Bluntschli in incredulous amazement). Excuse me, +Bluntschli: what did you say had spoiled your chances in life? + +BLUNTSCHLI (promptly). 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-- + +PETKOFF. My coat! + +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. (This estimate produces a marked sensation, all the +rest turning and staring at one another. He proceeds +innocently.) 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! (He takes the photograph from the +table.) 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"? (He exhibits the +photograph triumphantly, as if it settled the matter beyond all +possibility of refutation.) + +PETKOFF. That's what I was looking for. How the deuce did it get +there? + +BLUNTSCHLI (to Raina complacently). I have put everything +right, I hope, gracious young lady! + +RAINA (in uncontrollable vexation). I quite agree with your +account of yourself. You are a romantic idiot. (Bluntschli is +unspeakably taken aback.) Next time I hope you will know the +difference between a schoolgirl of seventeen and a woman of +twenty-three. + +BLUNTSCHLI (stupefied). Twenty-three! (She snaps the photograph +contemptuously from his hand; tears it across; and throws the +pieces at his feet.) + +SERGIUS (with grim enjoyment of Bluntschli's discomfiture). +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. + +BLUNTSCHLI (overwhelmed). Twenty-three! Twenty-three!! (He +considers.) Hm! (Swiftly making up his mind.) 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. + +RAINA. You dare! + +BLUNTSCHLI. If you were twenty-three when you said those things +to me this afternoon, I shall take them seriously. + +CATHERINE (loftily polite). 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. + +PETKOFF. Oh, never mind that, Catherine. (To Bluntschli.) 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. + +BLUNTSCHLI. But what on earth is the use of twenty horses? Why, +it's a circus. + +CATHERINE (severely). My daughter, sir, is accustomed to a +first-rate stable. + +RAINA. Hush, mother, you're making me ridiculous. + +BLUNTSCHLI. Oh, well, if it comes to a question of an +establishment, here goes! (He goes impetuously to the table and +seizes the papers in the blue envelope.) How many horses did you +say? + +SERGIUS. Twenty, noble Switzer! + +BLUNTSCHLI. I have two hundred horses. (They are amazed.) How +many carriages? + +SERGIUS. Three. + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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? + +SERGIUS. How the deuce do I know? + +BLUNTSCHLI. Have you four thousand? + +SERGIUS. NO. + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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. + +PETKOFF (with childish awe). Are you Emperor of Switzerland? + +BLUNTSCHLI. My rank is the highest known in Switzerland: I'm a +free citizen. + +CATHERINE. Then Captain Bluntschli, since you are my daughter's +choice, I shall not stand in the way of her happiness. (Petkoff +is about to speak.) That is Major Petkoff's feeling also. + +PETKOFF. Oh, I shall be only too glad. Two hundred horses! Whew! + +SERGIUS. What says the lady? + +RAINA (pretending to sulk). The lady says that he can keep his +tablecloths and his omnibuses. I am not here to be sold to the +highest bidder. + +BLUNTSCHLI. 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-- + +RAINA (interrupting him). I did not give them to the Emperor of +Switzerland! + +BLUNTSCHLI. That's just what I say. (He catches her hand quickly +and looks her straight in the face as he adds, with confident +mastery) Now tell us who you did give them to. + +RAINA (succumbing with a shy smile). To my chocolate cream +soldier! + +BLUNTSCHLI (with a boyish laugh of delight). That'll do. Thank +you. (Looks at his watch and suddenly becomes businesslike.) +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. (He makes them a military bow, and goes.) + +SERGIUS. What a man! What a man! + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext Arms and the Man, by George Bernard Shaw + + + diff --git a/old/rmsmn10.zip b/old/rmsmn10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f074473 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/rmsmn10.zip |