Short Plays · The Author’s Apology for “Great Catherine” (2/5) (2/2) (1/2)
An old soldier, a Cossack sergeant, enters.
The Sergeant Softly to the lady, holding the door handle. Little darling honey: is his Highness the prince very busy?
Varinka His Highness the prince is very busy. He is singing out of tune; he is biting his nails; he is scratching his head; he is hitching up his untidy stockings; he is making himself disgusting and odious to everybody; and he is pretending to read state papers that he does not understand because he is too lazy and selfish to talk and be companionable.
Patiomkin Growls; then wipes his nose with his dressing gown. !!
Varinka Pig. Ugh! She curls herself up with a shiver of disgust and retires from the conversation.
The Sergeant Stealing across to the coat, and picking it up to replace it on the back of the chair. Little Father, the English captain, so highly recommended to you by old Fritz of Prussia, by the English ambassador, and by Monsieur Voltaire (whom crossing himself may God in his infinite mercy damn eternally!), is in the antechamber and desires audience.
Patiomkin Deliberately. To hell with the English captain; and to hell with old Fritz of Prussia; and to hell with the English ambassador; and to hell with Monsieur Voltaire; and to hell with you too!
The Sergeant Have mercy on me, Little Father. Your head is bad this morning. You drink too much French brandy and too little good Russian kvass.
Patiomkin With sudden fury. Why are visitors of consequence announced by a sergeant? Springing at him and seizing him by the throat. What do you mean by this, you hound? Do you want five thousand blows of the stick? Where is General Volkonsky?
The Sergeant On his knees. Little Father, you kicked his Highness downstairs.
Patiomkin Flinging him down and kicking him. You lie, you dog. You lie.
The Sergeant Little Father: life is hard for the poor. If you say it is a lie, it is a lie. He fell downstairs. I picked him up; and he kicked me. They all kick me when you kick them. God knows that is not just, Little Father!
Patiomkin Laughs ogreishly; then returns to his place at the table, chuckling. !!!
Varinka Savage! Boor! It is a disgrace. No wonder the French sneer at us as barbarians.
The Sergeant Who has crept round the table to the screen, and insinuated himself between Patiomkin’s back and Varinka. Do you think the Prince will see the Captain, little darling?
Patiomkin He will not see any captain. Go to the devil!
The Sergeant Be merciful, Little Father. God knows it is your duty to see him! To Varinka. Intercede for him and for me, beautiful little darling. He has given me a rouble.
Patiomkin Oh, send him in, send him in; and stop pestering me. Am I never to have a moment’s peace?
The Sergeant salutes joyfully and hurries out, divining that Patiomkin has intended to see the English captain all along, and has played this comedy of fury and exhausted impatience to conceal his interest in the visitor.
Varinka Have you no shame? You refuse to see the most exalted persons. You kick princes and generals downstairs. And then you see an English captain merely because he has given a rouble to that common soldier. It is scandalous.
Patiomkin Darling beloved, I am drunk; but I know what I am doing. I wish to stand well with the English.
Varinka And you think you will impress an Englishman by receiving him as you are now, half drunk?
Patiomkin Gravely. It is true: the English despise men who cannot drink. I must make myself wholly drunk. He takes a huge draught of brandy.
Varinka Sot!
The Sergeant returns ushering a handsome strongly built young English officer in the uniform of a Light Dragoon. He is evidently on fairly good terms with himself, and very sure of his social position. He crosses the room to the end of the table opposite Patiomkin’s, and awaits the civilities of that statesman with confidence. The Sergeant remains prudently at the door.
The Sergeant Paternally. Little Father: this is the English captain, so well recommended to her sacred Majesty the Empress. God knows, he needs your countenance and protec⁠—He vanishes precipitately, seeing that Patiomkin is about to throw a bottle at him. The Captain contemplates these preliminaries with astonishment, and with some displeasure, which is not allayed when Patiomkin, hardly condescending to look at his visitor, of whom he nevertheless takes stock with the corner of his one eye, says gruffly. Well?
Edstaston My name is Edstaston: Captain Edstaston of the Light Dragoons. I have the honor to present to your Highness this letter from the British ambassador, which will give you all necessary particulars. He hands Patiomkin the letter.
Patiomkin Tearing it open and glancing at it for about a second. What do you want?
Edstaston The letter will explain to your Highness who I am.
Patiomkin I don’t want to know who you are. What do you want?
Edstaston An audience of the Empress. Patiomkin* contemptuously throws the letter aside. Edstaston* adds hotly. Also some civility, if you please.
Patiomkin With derision. Ho!
Varinka My uncle is receiving you with unusual civility, Captain. He has just kicked a general downstairs.
Edstaston A Russian general, madam?
Varinka Of course.
Edstaston I must allow myself to say, madam, that your uncle had better not attempt to kick an English officer downstairs.
Patiomkin You want me to kick you upstairs: eh? You want an audience of the Empress.
Edstaston I have said nothing about kicking, sir. If it comes to that, my boots shall speak for me. Her Majesty has signified a desire to have news of the rebellion in America. I have served against the rebels; and I am instructed to place myself at the disposal of her Majesty, and to describe the events of the war to her as an eyewitness, in a discreet and agreeable manner.
Patiomkin Psha! I know. You think if she once sets eyes on your face and your uniform your fortune is made. You think that if she could stand a man like me, with only one eye, and a cross eye at that, she must fall down at your feet at first sight, eh?
Edstaston Shocked and indignant. I think nothing of the sort; and I’ll trouble you not to repeat it. If I were a Russian subject and you made such a boast about my queen, I’d strike you across the face with my sword. Patiomkin, with a yell of fury, rushes at him. Hands off, you swine! *As Patiomkin, towering over him, attempts to seize him by the throat, Edstaston*, who is a bit of a wrestler, adroitly backheels him. He falls, amazed, on his back.
Varinka Rushing out. Help! Call the guard! The Englishman is murdering my uncle! Help! Help!
The Guard and the Sergeant rush in. Edstaston draws a pair of small pistols from his boots, and points one at the Sergeant and the other at Patiomkin, who is sitting on the floor, somewhat sobered. The soldiers stand irresolute.
Edstaston Stand off. To Patiomkin. Order them off, if you don’t want a bullet through your silly head.
The Sergeant Little Father: tell us what to do. Our lives are yours; but God knows you are not fit to die.
Patiomkin Absurdly self-possessed. Get out.
The Sergeant Little Father⁠—
Patiomkin Roaring. Get out. Get out, all of you. They withdraw, much relieved at their escape from the pistol. Patiomkin attempts to rise, and rolls over. Here! help me up, will you? Don’t you see that I’m drunk and can’t get up?
Edstaston Suspiciously. You want to get hold of me.
Patiomkin Squatting resignedly against the chair on which his clothes hang. Very well, then: I shall stay where I am, because I’m drunk and you’re afraid of me.
Edstaston I’m not afraid of you, damn you!
Patiomkin Ecstatically. Darling: your lips are the gates of truth. Now listen to me. He marks off the items of his statement with ridiculous stiff gestures of his head and arms, imitating a puppet. You are Captain Whatshisname; and your uncle is the Earl of Whatdyecallum; and your father is Bishop of Thingummybob; and you are a young man of the highest spr⁠—promise (I told you I was drunk), educated at Cambridge, and got your step as captain in the field at the glorious battle of Bunker’s Hill. Invalided home from America at the request of Aunt Fanny, Lady-in-Waiting to the Queen. All right, eh?
Edstaston How do you know all this?
Patiomkin Crowing fantastically. In er lerrer, darling, darling, darling, darling. Lerrer you showed me.
Edstaston But you didn’t read it.
Patiomkin Flapping his fingers at him grotesquely. Only one eye, darling. Cross eye. Sees everything. Read lerrer ince⁠—ince⁠—istastaneously. Kindly give me vinegar borle. Green borle. On’y to sober me. Too drunk to speak proply. If you would be so kind, darling. Green borle. Edstaston, still suspicious, shakes his head and keeps his pistols ready. Reach it myself. *He reaches behind him up to the table, and snatches at the green bottle, from which he takes a copious draught. Its effect is appalling. His wry faces and agonized belchings are so heartrending that they almost upset Edstaston*. When the victim at last staggers to his feet, he is a pale fragile nobleman, aged and quite sober, extremely dignified in manner and address, though shaken by his recent convulsions. Young man: it is not better to be drunk than sober; but it is happier. Goodness is not happiness. That is an epigram. But I have overdone this. I am too sober to be good company. Let me redress the balance. He takes a generous draught of brandy, and recovers his geniality. Aha! That’s better. And now listen, darling. You must not come to Court with pistols in your boots.
Edstaston I have found them useful.
Patiomkin Nonsense. I’m your friend. You mistook my intention because I was drunk. Now that I am sober⁠—in moderation⁠—I will prove that I am your friend. Have some diamonds. Roaring. Hullo there! Dogs, pigs: hullo!
The Sergeant comes in.
The Sergeant God be praised, Little Father: you are still spared to us.
Patiomkin Tell them to bring some diamonds. Plenty of diamonds. And rubies. Get out. He aims a kick at the Sergeant, who flees. Put up your pistols, darling. I’ll give you a pair with gold handgrips. I am your friend.
Edstaston Replacing the pistols in his boots rather unwillingly. Your Highness understands that if I am missing, or if anything happens to me, there will be trouble.
Patiomkin Enthusiastically. Call me darling.
Edstaston It is not the English custom.
Patiomkin You have no hearts, you English! Slapping his right breast. Heart! Heart!
Edstaston Pardon, your Highness: your heart is on the other side.
Patiomkin Surprised and impressed. Is it? You are learned! You are a doctor! You English are wonderful! We are barbarians, drunken pigs. Catherine does not know it; but we are. Catherine’s a German. But I have given her a Russian heart. He is about to slap himself again.
Edstaston Delicately. The other side, your Highness.
Patiomkin Maudlin. Darling: a true Russian has a heart on both sides.
The Sergeant enters carrying a goblet filled with precious stones.
Patiomkin Get out. He snatches the goblet and kicks the Sergeant out, not maliciously but from habit, indeed not noticing that he does it. Darling: have some diamonds. Have a fistful. He takes up a handful and lets them slip back through his fingers into the goblet, which he then offers to Edstaston.
Edstaston Thank you: I don’t take presents.
Patiomkin Amazed. You refuse!
Edstaston I thank your Highness; but it is not the custom for English gentlemen to take presents of that kind.
Patiomkin Are you really an Englishman?
Edstaston Bows. !
Patiomkin You are the first Englishman I ever saw refuse anything he could get. He puts the goblet on the table; then turns again to Edstaston. Listen, darling. You are a wrestler: a splendid wrestler. You threw me on my back like magic, though I could lift you with one hand. Darling: you are a giant, a paladin.
Edstaston Complacently. We wrestle rather well in my part of England.
Patiomkin I have a Turk who is a wrestler: a prisoner of war. You shall wrestle with him for me. I’ll stake a million roubles on you.
Edstaston Incensed. Damn you! do you take me for a prizefighter? How dare you make me such a proposal?
Patiomkin With wounded feeling. Darling: there is no pleasing you. Don’t you like me?
Edstaston Mollified. Well, in a sort of way I do; though I don’t know why I should. But my instructions are that I am to see the Empress; and⁠—
Patiomkin Darling: you shall see the Empress. A glorious woman, the greatest woman in the world. But lemme give you piece ’vice⁠—pah! still drunk. They water my vinegar. He shakes himself; clears his throat; and resumes soberly. If Catherine takes a fancy to you, you may ask for roubles, diamonds, palaces, titles, orders, anything! and you may aspire to everything: field-marshal, admiral, minister, what you please⁠—except Tsar.
Edstaston I tell you I don’t want to ask for anything. Do you suppose I am an adventurer and a beggar?
Patiomkin Plaintively. Why not, darling? I was an adventurer. I was a beggar.
Edstaston Oh, you!
Patiomkin Well: what’s wrong with me?
Edstaston You are a Russian. That’s different.
Patiomkin Effusively. Darling: I am a man; and you are a man; and Catherine is a woman. Woman reduces us all to the common denominator. Chuckling. Again an epigram! Gravely. You understand it, I hope. Have you had a college education, darling? I have.
Edstaston Certainly. I am a Bachelor of Arts.
Patiomkin It is enough that you are a bachelor, darling: Catherine will supply the arts. Aha! Another epigram! I am in the vein today.
Edstaston Embarrassed and a little offended. I must ask your Highness to change the subject. As a visitor in Russia, I am the guest of the Empress; and I must tell you plainly that I have neither the right nor the disposition to speak lightly of her Majesty.
Patiomkin You have conscientious scruples?
Edstaston I have the scruples of a gentleman.
Patiomkin In Russia a gentleman has no scruples. In Russia we face facts.
Edstaston In England, sir, a gentleman never faces any facts if they are unpleasant facts.
Patiomkin In real life, darling, all facts are unpleasant. Greatly pleased with himself. Another epigram! Where is my accursed chancellor? these gems should be written down and recorded for posterity. He rushes to the table; sits down; and snatches up a pen. Then, recollecting himself. But I have not asked you to sit down. He rises and goes to the other chair. I am a savage: a barbarian. He throws the shirt and coat over the table on to the floor and puts his sword on the table. Be seated, Captain.
Edstaston Thank you.
They bow to one another ceremoniously. Patiomkin’s tendency to grotesque exaggeration costs him his balance; he nearly falls over Edstaston, who rescues him and takes the proffered chair.
Patiomkin Resuming his seat. By the way, what was the piece of advice I was going to give you?
Edstaston As you did not give it, I don’t know. Allow me to add that I have not asked for your advice.
Patiomkin I give it to you unasked, delightful Englishman. I remember it now. It was this. Don’t try to become Tsar of Russia.
Edstaston In astonishment. I haven’t the slightest intention⁠—