1894
ARMS AND THE MAN
by George Bernard Shaw
Electronically Enhanced Text (c) Copyright 1996, World Library(R)
Arms and the Man
By George Bernard Shaw
ACT I
[Night. A lady's bedchamber in Bulgaria, in a small town near the
Dragoman Pass, late in November in the year 1885. Through an
open window with a little balcony a peak of the Balkans,
wonderfully white and beautiful in the starlit snow, seems quite
close at hand, though it is really miles away. 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. Above the head
of the bed, which stands against a little wall cutting off the
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.
The principal seat, placed towards the other side of the room
and opposite the windows, is a Turkish ottoman. 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.
The washstand, against the wall on the side nearest the ottoman
and window, 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 of Austrian bent wood, with
cane seat. The dressing table, between the bed and the window,
is a common pine table, covered with a cloth of many colors,
with an expensive toilet mirror on it. The door is on the side
nearest the bed, and there is a chest of drawers between. 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 with 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. 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 are part of it, is 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? Youll 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 sends 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! [She pulls her mother down on the ottoman; and they
kiss one another frantically].
CATHERINE [with surging enthusiasm] You cant 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. Cant you
see it, Raina: our gallant splendid Bulgarians with their swords and
eyes flashing, thundering down like an avalanche and scattering the
wretched Servians and their dandified Austrian officers 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. I sometimes used to doubt whether they were anything
but dreams. Oh, what faithless little creatures girls are! 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 youll never tell him.
CATHERINE. Dont ask me for promises until I know what I'm 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 the 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 with 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 theyre 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 [businesslike, 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. Goodnight.
RAINA. Goodnight. [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 dont 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]. Goodnight.
LOUKA [carelessly] Goodnight. [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] Oh, I shall never be unworthy of
you any more, my soul's hero- never, never, never. [She replaces it
reverently. Then she 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, 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, blows out the
light there, and hurries back to bed in the dark, nothing being
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
silhouetted 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 scratch; 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! Dont call out; or youll be shot. Be good; and no harm will
happen to you. [She is heard leaving her bed, and making for the
door]. Take care: it's no use trying to run away. Remember: if you
raise your voice my revolver will go off. [Commandingly]. Strike a
light and let me see you. Do you hear. [Another moment of silence
and darkness as she retreats to the dressing-table. Then she lights
a candle; and the mystery is at an end. He is 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 tunic of a Servian artillery officer. All that the
candlelight and his unwashed unkempt condition make it possible to
discern is that he is 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 the 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 recognize my
uniform- Servian! If I'm caught I shall be killed. [Menacingly] Do you
understand that?
RAINA. Yes.
MAN. Well, I dont intend to get killed if I can help it. [Still more
formidably] 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 cutting
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. Now, if you
raise an alarm-
RAINA [cutting him short] You will shoot me. How do you know that
ĞIğ am afraid to die?
MAN [cunningly] Ah; but suppose I dont shoot you, what will happen
then? 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 shant 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 neck. He watches her, and adds, pitilessly] Hardly
presentable, 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 [crossing swiftly to the ottoman and snatching the cloak] A good
idea! I'll keep the cloak; and youll take care that nobody comes in
and sees you without it. This is a better weapon than the revolver:
eh? [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 him, 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 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: theyre 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] Theres 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 waterpipe 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 will receive you.
[A young Russian officer, in Bulgarian uniform, enters, sword
in hand.]
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, with a
cry of ĞTake care!ğ 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
neighbors have their heads so full of runaway Servians that they see
them everywhere. [Politely] Gracious lady: a thousand pardons.
Goodnight. [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. Dont 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, highly
offended by this demonstration follows her to the door, and shuts it
behind her with a slam, locking 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 to the 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. Dont hate me, dear young lady. I am a Swiss,
fighting merely as a professional soldier. I joined Servia because
it came first on the road from Switzerland. Be generous: youve
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 in a quiet interval.
You dont mind my waiting just a minute or two, do you?
RAINA. Oh no: I am sorry you will have to go into danger again.
[Pointing to the ottoman] Wont 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] Dont frighten me like that. What is it?
RAINA. Your revolver! 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 as she conceives a
poorer and poorer opinion of him, and feels proportionately more and
more at her ease] 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: theres 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. Ive no ammunition. What use are cartridges in battle? I
always carry chocolate instead; and I finished the last cake of that
hours ago.
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 [hungrily] I wish I had some now.
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] Youre 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. He shies again, as if she had meant to strike
him]. Ugh! Dont do things so suddenly, gracious lady. Its mean to
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 havnt 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 [alarmed] 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, theyd
play all sorts of tricks on me.
RAINA [a little moved] I'm sorry. I wont 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. Ive served fourteen years: half of your fellows
never smelt powder before. Why, how is it that youve 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 couldnt believe my eyes when I saw it.
RAINA [eagerly turning to him, as all her enthusiasm and her
dreams 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 theyre 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 dont believe the first man is a coward. I know
he is a hero!
MAN [goodhumoredly] Thats what youd have said if youd seen the first
man in the charge today.
RAINA [breathless, forgiving him everything] 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 his 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 theyd sent us the wrong cartridges, and that we couldnt fire a
round for the next ten minutes, we laughed at the other side of our
mouths. I never felt so sick in my life; though Ive been in one or two
very tight places. And I hadnt 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:
thats 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 more 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 [recognizing it with a shock] I'm really very sorry. [Looking at
her] Was it fair to lead me on? [He looks at the portrait again]
Yes: thats Don Quixote: not a doubt of it. [He stifles a laugh].
RAINA [quickly] Why do you laugh?
MAN [shamefacedly, but still greatly tickled] I didnt laugh, I
assure you. At least I didnt mean to. But when I think of him charging
the windmills and imagining he was doing the finest thing- [He
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 cant
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: youre always right. I know how
good youve 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
cant! I darent! 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 on his hands in the deepest dejection].
RAINA [disarmed by pity] Come: dont 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 as sleepy as that?
MAN. Ive not had two hours undisturbed sleep since I joined. I'm
on the staff: you dont know what that means. I havnt closed my eyes
for forty-eight hours.
RAINA [at her wit's end] But what am I to do with you?
MAN [staggering up, roused by her desperation] Of course. I must
do something. [He shakes himself; pulls himself together; and speaks
with rallied vigor 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] 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 seizes him recklessly, and pulls
him quite round]. Theyll 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 shant see the light
when I open the shutters. And keep away from the window, whatever
you do. If they see me theyre sure to have a shot at me.
RAINA [clinging to him] Theyre 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, dont you?
MAN. I really dont 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. Whats 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. Dont 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
soldiers' chorus?
RAINA [contemptuously] No!
MAN [Stifling a heavy sigh of weariness] Then I dont know it.
RAINA. I thought you might have remembered the great scene where
Ernani, flying from his foes just as you are to-night, 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 to make you understand.
MAN. Dont 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 couldnt 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. Turning for a last
look at him, she sees that he is dropping off 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 weakly. 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? Thats what I want to know: where am I? Must keep
awake. Nothing keeps me awake except danger- remember that- [intently]
danger, danger, danger, dan- [trailing off again: another shock]
Wheres danger? Mus' find it. [He starts off vaguely round the room
in search of it]. What am I looking for? Sleep- danger- dont 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 bed, Raina
following until she is opposite her on the other side]. He's fast
asleep. The brute!
RAINA [anxiously] Sh!
CATHERINE [shaking him] Sir! [Shaking him again, harder] Sir!!
[Vehemently, shaking very hard] Sir!!!
RAINA [catching her arm] Dont, mamma: the poor darling is worn
out. Let him sleep.
CATHERINE [letting him go, and turning amazed to Raina] The poor
darling! 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 landscape. Looking towards them from within the
garden, the side of the house is seen on the left, with a garden
door reached by a little flight of steps. On the right the
stable yard, with its gateway, encroaches on the garden. There
are fruit bushes along the paling and house, covered with
washing spread out to dry. A path runs by the house, and rises
by two steps at the corner, where it turns out of sight. 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 right.
Louka, smoking a cigaret, is standing between the table and the
house, turning her back with angry disdain on a manservant 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 servitude, 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 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 Sofeea,
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 youre young: youre young!
LOUKA. Yes; and you like me the better for it, dont you? But I
know some family secrets they wouldnt 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 dont
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 wouldnt have the master know for a thousand levas. I know
things about him that she wouldnt 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 thats 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 dont know, she can depend on you to hold your
tongue and serve the family faithfully. Thats what they like; and
thats how youll make most out of them.
LOUKA [with searching scorn] You have the soul of a servant, Nicola.
NICOLA [complacently] Yes: thats the secret of success in service.
[A loud knocking with a whip handle on a wooden door is heard
from the stable yard.]
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 collects the coffeepot and cups on the tray, and
carries it into the house] Youll 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 [Sitting down and taking a roll] Go in and say Ive 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 havnt run away with you, have they?
LOUKA. No, sir.
PETKOFF. Thats right. Have you brought me some cognac?
LOUKA [putting the bottle on the table] Here, sir.
PETKOFF. Thats right. [He pours some into his coffee].
[Catherine, who, having at this early hour made only a very
perfunctory toilet, 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, comes
from the house with Turkish slippers on her bare feet,
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] Paul: have you let
the Austrians force you to make peace?
PETKOFF [submissively] My dear: they didnt consult me. What could
ĞIğ 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. Thats what I would have done.
PETKOFF. I dont 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! [She stretches her hand affectionately
across the table to squeeze his].
PETKOFF. And how have you been, my dear?
CATHERINE. Oh, my usual sore throats: thats all.
PETKOFF [with conviction] That comes from washing your neck every
day. Ive often told you so.
CATHERINE. Nonsense, Paul!
PETKOFF [over his coffee and cigaret] I dont believe in going too
far with these modern customs. All this washing cant be good for the
health: it's not natural. There was an Englishman at Philippopolis 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 dont 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 didnt tell them that we have an electric bell
in it? I have had one put up.
PETKOFF. Whats 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. Ive
learnt that while you were away.
PETKOFF. Well, I'll tell you something Ive learnt too. Civilized
people dont hang out their washing to dry where visitors can see it;
so youd better have all that [indicating the clothes on the bushes]
put somewhere else.
CATHERINE. Oh, thats absurd, Paul: I dont believe really refined
people notice such things.
[Someone is heard knocking at the stable gates.]
PETKOFF. Theres Sergius. [Shouting] Hollo, Nicola!
CATHERINE. Oh, dont shout, Paul: it really isnt 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-
Sarahnoff].
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, if you please.
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 hasnt the slightest chance of
promotion until we're 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 Parisian salon, shewing that 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. 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 ideals; by his consequent cynical scorn for humanity; by
his jejune credulity as to the absolute validity of his
concepts and the unworthiness of the world in disregarding
them; by his wincings and mockeries under the sting of the
petty disillusions which every hour spent among men brings
to his sensitive observation, he has acquired the half
tragic, half ironic air, the mysterious moodiness, the
suggestion of a strange and terrible history that has
left nothing but undying remorse, by which Childe Harold
fascinated the grandmothers of his English contemporaries.
It is clear that here or nowhere is Raina's ideal hero.
Catherine is hardly less enthusiastic about him than her
daughter, 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 dignity 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.
The 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 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,
isnt 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 arrive at 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 youre 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 wouldnt 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 shine 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: Ive 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 shouldnt have been able to begin fighting
if these foreigners hadnt 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 humbugged us into giving him fifty able bodied men for
two hundred worn out chargers. They werent 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 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 going to begin a long
speech when the Major interrupts him].
PETKOFF. Stuff and nonsense, Sergius! Thats 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 Philippopolis: theres no forage for
them on the Sofeea route. [He goes towards the house]. Come along.
[Sergius is about to follow him when Catherine rises and intervenes].
CATHERINE. Oh, Paul, cant 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:
theres 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 is still offended. She smiles,
and stretches out her arms to him.]
SERGIUS [hastening to her] Am I forgiven?
RAINA [placing her hands on his shoulders as she looks up at him
with admiration and worship] My hero! My king!
SERGIUS. My queen! [He kisses her on the forehead].
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 down 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! [He clasps, her reverently].
RAINA [returning his embrace] My lord and my-
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]. I cant 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 get my hat; and then we can go out until lunch
time. Wouldnt 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 looks 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 loftiest exaltation. The movement shifts his
field of vision, into the corner of which there now comes the tail
of Louka's double apron. His attention is arrested at once. He takes a
stealthy look at her, and begins to twirl his moustache mischievously,
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 other side 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 didnt 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 cant be seen. Have you no common
sense?
SERGIUS. Ah! thats reasonable. [He takes her into the stableyard
gateway, where they are hidden from the house].
LOUKA [plaintively] 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 dont 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?
thats 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.
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 dont 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: youve 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 hands.]
SERGIUS. Now listen you to me.
LOUKA [wincing] Not so tight: youre hurting me.
SERGIUS. That doesnt 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 dont care, now Ive found out that whatever clay
I'm made of, youre 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, 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]. 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 [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 ĞNever!ğ 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. Whats 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 doesnt know
how to send them to Philippopolis; 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 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 cram him with
chocolate creams till he couldnt ever speak again!
CATHERINE. Dont talk such stuff. 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 will be 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
dont care whether he finds out about the chocolate cream soldier or
not. I half hope he may. [She again turns and strolls flippantly
away 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. Theres a gentleman just called, madam- a Servian officer-
CATHERINE [flaming] A Servian! And 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 dont 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 dont 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"? Thats 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, arnt they?
LOUKA. Yes, madam.
CATHERINE [decisively] Bring the gentleman out here at once.
[Imperatively] And be very polite to him. Dont 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 that way
[indicating the gate of the stableyard]. Tell Nicola to bring his
bag here after him. Dont 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 make 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. She stands aside at the top of
the steps to let him pass before she goes in again. He is the man of
the midnight adventure in Raina's room, 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
impetuous, 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 has been to make him feel like a lion baulked of his prey.
If he discovered our secret, he will never forgive me; and my
daughter's life will 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 shall 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 didnt come in. Saranoff is with me:
you remember him, dont 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
youve called as a friend, and not about horses or prisoners- eh?
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 Philippopolis;
and we dont in the least know how to do it.
BLUNTSCHLI [suddenly attentive and businesslike] Philippopolis?
The forage is the trouble, I suppose.
PETKOFF [eagerly] Yes: thats 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, dont 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 spoilt it. [To Bluntschli,
winningly] I hope you didnt 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- [Nicola
appears at the top of the steps 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, major. 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 youll overlook it. [He bows, and is going to the steps with the
bag, when Petkoff addresses him angrily].
PETKOFF. Youd 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
hand]. Begone, you butterfingered donkey.
NICOLA [snatching up the bag, and escaping into the house] Yes, sir.
CATHERINE. Oh, never mind, Paul: dont 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: let's have no more nonsense about having to go away.
You know very well youre not going back to Switzerland yet. Until
you do go back youll stay with us.
RAINA. Oh, do, Captain Bluntschli.
PETKOFF [to Catherine] Now, Catherine: it's of you 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 madam'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 consists 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 shews a mountain panorama, just now seen in one of
its friendliest aspects in the mellowing afternoon light. In
the corner next the right hand window 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, 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 egg cup filled with ink, and a
deplorable scrap of heavily used pink blotting paper.
At the side of this table, which stands opposite the left hand
window, Bluntschli is hard at work with a couple of maps
before him, writing orders. At the head of it sits Sergius,
who is supposed to be also at work, but 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 his hookah within his reach.
Catherine sits at the stove, with her back to them,
embroidering. Raina, reclining on the divan under the right
hand window, is gazing in a daydream out at the Balkan
landscape, with a neglected novel in her lap.
The door is on the same side as the stove, farther from the
window. The button of the electric bell is between the door
and the stove.]
PETKOFF [looking up from his paper to watch how they are getting
on at the table] Are you sure I cant 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 labor!
Major.[Bluntschli passes him a paper]. Another one? Thank you. [He
plants the paper squarely before him; sets his chair carefully
parallel to it; 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 again, but
presently lets it drop]. Ah, you havnt been campaigning, Catherine:
you dont know how pleasant it is for us to sit here, after a good
lunch, with nothing to do but enjoy ourselves. Theres 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 Ive 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, youre mistaken. Thats
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, madame. [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 isnt there.
CATHERINE. Done, Paul!
PETKOFF [excited by the prospect of a gamble] Come: here's an
opportunity for some sport. Wholl 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] Dont 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 dont 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, madame.
PETKOFF. Well, I am d-
CATHERINE [stopping him] Paul!
PETKOFF. I could have sworn it wasnt 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 didnt take that bet of yours, Sergius.
Youd better give Raina that Arab steed yourself, since youve roused
her expectations. Eh, Raina? [He looks round at her; but she is
again rapt in the landscape. With a little gush of parental
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. ĞIğ shant 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] Thats 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] Havnt you anything for me to sign?
BLUNTSCHLI. Not necessary. His signature will do.
PETKOFF. Ah well, I think weve 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 Ive
marked on the orders the time they should hand them in by. Tell them
that if they stop to drink or tell stories- if theyre five minutes
late, theyll 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. Theyll be
far more frightened of you than of me.
CATHERINE [putting down her embroidery] I daresay I had better.
You would only splutter at them. [She goes out, Petkoff holding the
door for her and following her].
BLUNTSCHLI. What an 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. Thats
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 theyd 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 dont
mean that, do you?
RAINA [turning, with sudden earnestness] I do indeed. But they
dont know that it was in this house you took refuge. If Sergius
knew, he would challenge you and kill you in a duel.
BLUNTSCHLI. Bless me! then dont tell him.
RAINA [full of reproach for his levity] Can you not 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 wouldnt like him to
find out that the story about the ice pudding was a- a- a- You know.
RAINA [wincing] Ah, dont 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 round 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, dont 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 dont. 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 paces the room
melodramatically].
BLUNTSCHLI [dubiously] Theres reason in everything. You said youd
told only two lies in your whole life. Dear young lady: isnt that
rather a short allowance? I'm quite a straightforward man myself;
but it wouldnt last me a whole morning.
RAINA [staring haughtily at him] Do you know, sir, that you are
insulting me?
BLUNTSCHLI. I cant help it. When you strike 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, dont 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,
Ive 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, isnt he?
RAINA [startled] Oh! 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 youve 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 doesnt 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! Oh! 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 cant be quite sure. You see, I couldnt carry
it about with me all the time: one cant 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 thats the
surest place to get looted in modern warfare. So I pawned it.
RAINA. Pawned it!!!
BLUNTSCHLI. I know it doesnt 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] Thats 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
to 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. [He takes up a
fat 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 am
I to 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, 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 wouldnt 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] Ive 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! dont be so contrary with me. Ive 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. Theres 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 isnt.
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 youll 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 30 levas, and buy me
for 10! 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 seats herself proudly
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] Ive 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 closer 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 behavior to me wont 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 dont you try being high and mighty with
me, either. Youre like all country girls: you think it's genteel to
treat a servant the way I treat a stableboy. Thats only your
ignorance; and dont you forget it. And dont 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: youve got to know your
place: thats 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: thats 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. Thats 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. Dont 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 [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 as 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. Thats 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] ĞIğ 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 dont 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. And 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] Thats 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:
thats 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! dont talk to me about Bulgaria. You dont
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 dont 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 dont know: he hasnt told me. Better not interfere,
dear young lady. No harm will be done: Ive often acted as sword
instructor. He wont be able to touch me; and I'll not hurt him. It
will save explanations. In the morning I shall be off home; and
youll 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 treat 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 favors ĞIğ never enjoyed.
BLUNTSCHLI [jumping up indignantly] Stuff! Rubbish! I have
received no favors. Why, the young lady doesnt 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, y |
