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diff --git a/26494-h/26494-h.htm b/26494-h/26494-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0d21a9f --- /dev/null +++ b/26494-h/26494-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3892 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Vera; or, the Nihilists, by Oscar Wilde + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + body > p {text-indent: 1em;} + h1,h2 {clear: both; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.5} + hr {width: 65%; margin: 2em auto; clear: both;} + table {margin: 1em auto; font-size: 90%;} + .td1 {text-align: left;} + .td2 {text-align: right; padding-left: 1.5em; padding-right: 1em;} + .td3 {font-size: large; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; right: 1%; font-size: small; font-style: normal; text-align: right; text-indent: 0em;} + .ctr,h1,h2,.td3,.bk1,.stg1,.bk3 {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps; font-style: normal;} + .figcenter {margin: 3em auto 4em; width: 100px;} + .anc {vertical-align: 0.25em; font-size: .8em;} + .trn {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; padding: .25em 1em;} + img {border: none;} + a:link, a:visited {text-decoration: none;} + ul {list-style-type: none; font-size: 90%;} + .bk1 {margin: 2em auto; line-height: 1.5; font-size: large;} + .bk2 {margin: 1em auto; width: 25em;} + .p2 {padding-left: 2em; text-indent: -2em;} + .stg1 {margin: .75em 0;} + .stg2 {margin: 1em 10% 1.5em;} + .bk3 {margin-top: 2.5em;} + .p3 {margin-left: 2em; font-size: 90%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Vera, by Oscar Wilde + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Vera + or, The Nihilists + +Author: Oscar Wilde + +Release Date: August 30, 2008 [EBook #26494] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VERA *** + + + + +Produced by Meredith Bach, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1>VERA; OR, THE NIHILISTS.</h1> + +<hr /> +<div class="ctr"><i>Of this work, 200 copies only have been printed, for<br /> +private circulation. This is No....</i></div> + +<hr /> + +<h1><big>VERA;</big><br /> +OR, THE NIHILISTS.</h1> + +<div class="bk1"><big><b>A DRAMA</b></big><br /> +IN A PROLOGUE, AND FOUR ACTS.</div> + +<h2><small>BY</small><br /> +OSCAR WILDE.</h2> + +<div class="bk1"><small><b>NOW FIRST PUBLISHED.</b></small></div> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/001.png" width="100" height="27" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<div class="ctr"><i>PRIVATELY PRINTED</i>,<br /> +1902.</div> + +<hr /> +<div class="bk2"><p><span class="smcap">This</span> Play was written in 1881, and is now +published from the author's own copy, showing +his corrections of and additions to the +original text.</p></div> + +<div class="trn"><p><b>Transcriber's Note:</b> +Inconsistent hyphenation has been standardised. +Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note, whilst +significant amendments have been listed at the end of the text.</p> + +<p>Although not present in the original publication, the following list +of contents has been provided for convenience:</p> + +<ul> +<li><a href="#Page_7">PROLOGUE.</a></li> +<li><a href="#Page_15">ACT I.</a></li> +<li><a href="#Page_30">ACT II.</a></li> +<li><a href="#Page_48">ACT III.</a></li> +<li><a href="#Page_62">ACT IV.</a></li> +<li><a href="#Page_73">CORRECTIONS AND ADDITIONS.</a></li> +</ul></div> + +<hr /> +<h2>PERSONS IN THE PROLOGUE.</h2> + +<div class="bk2"><p class="td1"><span class="smcap">Peter Sabouroff</span> (an Innkeeper).<br /> +<span class="smcap">Vera Sabouroff</span> (his Daughter).<br /> +<span class="smcap">Michael</span> (a Peasant).<br /> +<span class="smcap">Colonel Kotemkin.</span></p> + +<p class="ctr">Scene, Russia. Time, 1795.</p></div> + +<h2>PERSONS IN THE PLAY.</h2> + +<div class="bk2"><p class="td1"><span class="smcap">Ivan the Czar.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Prince Paul Maraloffski</span> (Prime Minister of Russia).<br /> +<span class="smcap">Prince Petrovitch.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Count Rouvaloff.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Marquis de Poivrard.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Baron Raff.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">General Kotemkin.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">A Page.</span></p> + +<p class="ctr"><i>Nihilists.</i></p> +<p class="td1"><span class="smcap">Peter Tchernavitch</span>, President of the Nihilists.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Michael.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Alexis Ivanacievitch</span>, known as a Student of Medicine.<br /> +<span class="smcap">Professor Marfa.</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Vera Sabouroff.</span></p> + +<p class="ctr"><i>Soldiers, Conspirators, &c.</i></p> + +<p class="ctr">Scene, Moscow. Time, 1800.</p></div> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[7]</a></span></p> +<h2>PROLOGUE.</h2> + +<div class="stg2"><p class="ctr"><span class="smcap">Scene.</span>—<i>A Russian Inn.</i></p> + +<p class="ctr"><i>Large door opening on snowy landscape at back of stage.</i></p> + +<p class="ctr"><i><span class="smcap">Peter Sabouroff</span> and <span class="smcap">Michael</span>.</i></p></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter</span> (<i>warming his hands at a stove</i>). Has Vera +not come back yet, Michael?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> No, Father Peter, not yet; 'tis a good +three miles to the post office, and she has to milk +the cows besides, and that dun one is a rare plaguey +creature for a wench to handle.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> Why didn't you go with her, you young +fool? she'll never love you unless you are always at +her heels; women like to be bothered.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> She says I bother her too much already, +Father Peter, and I fear she'll never love me after all.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> Tut, tut, boy, why shouldn't she? you're +young and wouldn't be ill-favoured either, had God +or thy mother given thee another face. Aren't you +one of Prince Maraloffski's gamekeepers; and haven't +you got a good grass farm, and the best cow in the +village? What more does a girl want?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> But Vera, Father Peter—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> Vera, my lad, has got too many ideas; I +don't think much of ideas myself; I've got on well +enough in life without 'em; why shouldn't my +children? There's Dmitri! could have stayed here +and kept the inn; many a young lad would have +jumped at the offer in these hard times; but he, +scatter-brained featherhead of a boy, must needs go +off to Moscow to study the law! What does he want +knowing about the law! let a man do his duty, say +I, and no one will trouble him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Ay! but Father Peter, they say a good +lawyer can break the law as often as he likes, and no +one can say him nay.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> That is about all they are good for; and +there he stays, and has not written a line to us for +four months now—a good son that, eh?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Come, come, Father Peter, Dmitri's letters +must have gone astray—perhaps the new postman +can't read; he looks stupid enough, and Dmitri, why, +he was the best fellow in the village. Do you remember +how he shot the bear at the barn in the +great winter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> Ay, it was a good shot; I never did a +better myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> And as for dancing, he tired out three +fiddlers Christmas come two years.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> Ay, ay, he was a merry lad. It is the +girl that has the seriousness—she goes about as +solemn as a priest for days at a time.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Vera is always thinking of others.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> There is her mistake, boy. Let God and +our Little Father look to the world. It is none of +my work to mend my neighbour's thatch. Why, +last winter old Michael was frozen to death in his +sleigh in the snowstorm, and his wife and children +starved afterwards when the hard times came; but +what business was it of mine? I didn't make the +world. Let God and the Czar look to it. And then +the blight came, and the black plague with it, and +the priests couldn't bury the people fast enough, and +they lay dead on the roads—men and women both. +But what business was it of mine? I didn't make the +world. Let God and the Czar look to it. Or two +autumns ago, when the river overflowed on a sudden, +and the children's school was carried away and +drowned every girl and boy in it. I didn't make +the world—let God and the Czar look to it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> But, Father Peter—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> No, no, boy; no man could live if he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> +took his neighbour's pack on his shoulders. (<i>Enter +<span class="smcap">Vera</span> in peasant's dress.</i>) Well, my girl, you've been +long enough away—where is the letter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> There is none to-day, Father.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> I knew it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> But there will be one to-morrow, Father.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> Curse him, for an ungrateful son.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Oh, Father, don't say that; he must be +sick.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> Ay! sick of profligacy, perhaps.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> How dare you say that of him, Father? +You know that is not true.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> Where does the money go, then? +Michael, listen. I gave Dmitri half his mother's +fortune to bring with him to pay the lawyer folk of +Moscow. He has only written three times, and every +time for more money. He got it, not at my wish, +but at hers (<i>pointing to <span class="smcap">Vera</span></i>), and now for five +months, close on six almost, we have heard nothing +from him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Father, he will come back.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> Ay! the prodigals always return; but let +him never darken my doors again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>sitting down pensive</i>). Some evil has come +on him; he must be dead! Oh! Michael, I am so +wretched about Dmitri.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Will you never love any one but him, +Vera?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>smiling</i>). I don't know; there is so much +else to do in the world but love.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Nothing else worth doing, Vera.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> What noise is that, Vera? (<i>A metallic +clink is heard.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>rising and going to the door</i>). I don't +know, Father; it is not like the cattle bells, or I +would think Nicholas had come from the fair. Oh! +Father! it is soldiers!—coming down the hill—there +is one of them on horseback. How pretty +they look! But there are some men with them with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span> +chains on! They must be robbers. Oh! don't let +them in, Father; I couldn't look at them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> Men in chains! Why, we are in luck, +my child! I heard this was to be the new road to +Siberia, to bring the prisoners to the mines; but I +didn't believe it. My fortune is made! Bustle, Vera, +bustle! I'll die a rich man after all. There will be +no lack of good customers now. An honest man +should have the chance of making his living out of +rascals now and then.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Are these men rascals, Father? What +have they done?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> I reckon they're some of those Nihilists +the priest warns us against. Don't stand there idle, +my girl.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> I suppose, then, they are all wicked men.</p> + +<p>(<i>Sound of soldiers outside; cry of "Halt!" enter +Russian officer with a body of soldiers and eight men +in chains, raggedly dressed; one of them on entering +hurriedly puts his coat above his ears and hides his +face; some soldiers guard the door, others sit down; +the prisoners stand.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> Innkeeper!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> Yes, Colonel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel</span> (<i>pointing to Nihilists</i>). Give these men +some bread and water.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter</span> (<i>to himself</i>). I shan't make much out of +that order.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> As for myself, what have you got fit +to eat?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> Some good dried venison, your Excellency—and +some rye whisky.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> Nothing else?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> Why, more whisky, your Excellency.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> What clods these peasants are! You +have a better room than this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> Yes, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> Bring me there. Sergeant, post your +picket outside, and see that these scoundrels do not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +communicate with any one. No letter writing, you +dogs, or you'll be flogged for it. Now for the venison. +(<i>To <span class="smcap">Peter</span> bowing before him.</i>) Get out of +the way, you fool! Who is that girl? (<i>sees <span class="smcap">Vera</span></i>).</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> My daughter, your Highness.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> Can she read and write?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> Ay, that she can, sir.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> Then she is a dangerous woman. No +peasant should be allowed to do anything of the +kind. Till your fields, store your harvests, pay your +taxes, and obey your masters—that is your duty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Who are our masters?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> Young woman, these men are going +to the mines for life for asking the same foolish +question.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Then they have been unjustly condemned.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> Vera, keep your tongue quiet. She is a +foolish girl, sir, who talks too much.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> Every woman does talk too much. +Come, where is this venison? Count, I am waiting +for you. How can you see anything in a girl with +coarse hands? (<i>He passes with <span class="smcap">Peter</span> and his aide-de-camp +into an inner room.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>to one of the Nihilists</i>). Won't you sit +down? you must be tired.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sergeant.</span> Come now, young woman, no talking +to my prisoners.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> I shall speak to them. How much do +you want?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sergeant.</span> How much have you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Will you let these men sit down if I give +you this? (<i>Takes off her peasant's necklace.</i>) It is +all I have; it was my mother's.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sergeant.</span> Well, it looks pretty enough, and is +heavy too. What do you want with these men?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> They are hungry and tired. Let me go +to them?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">One of the Soldiers.</span> Let the wench be, if she +pays us.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sergeant.</span> Well, have your way. If the Colonel +sees you, you may have to come with us, my pretty one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>advances to the Nihilists</i>). Sit down; you +must be tired. (<i>Serves them food.</i>) What are you?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">A Prisoner.</span> Nihilists.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Who put you in chains?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prisoner.</span> Our Father the Czar.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Why?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prisoner.</span> For loving liberty too well.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>to prisoner who hides his face</i>). What did +you want to do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dmitri.</span> To give liberty to thirty millions of +people enslaved to one man.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>startled at the voice</i>). What is your name?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dmitri.</span> I have no name.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Where are your friends?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dmitri.</span> I have no friends.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Let me see your face!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dmitri.</span> You will see nothing but suffering in it. +They have tortured me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>tears the cloak from his face</i>). Oh, God! +Dmitri! my brother!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dmitri.</span> Hush! Vera; be calm. You must not +let my father know; it would kill him. I thought I +could free Russia. I heard men talk of Liberty one +night in a café. I had never heard the word before. +It seemed to be a new god they spoke of. I joined +them. It was there all the money went. Five months +ago they seized us. They found me printing the +paper. I am going to the mines for life. I could not +write. I thought it would be better to let you think I +was dead; for they are bringing me to a living tomb.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>looking round</i>). You must escape, Dmitri. +I will take your place.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dmitri.</span> Impossible! You can only revenge us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> I shall revenge you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dmitri.</span> Listen! there is a house in Moscow—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sergeant.</span> Prisoners, attention!—the Colonel is +coming—young woman, your time is up.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> + +<div class="stg1">(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Colonel</span>, <span class="smcap">Aide-de-Camp</span> and <span class="smcap">Peter</span>.</i>)</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> I hope your Highness is pleased with the +venison. I shot it myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> It had been better had you talked less +about it. Sergeant, get ready. (<i>Gives purse to +<span class="smcap">Peter</span>.</i>) Here, you cheating rascal!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> My fortune is made! long live your +Highness. I hope your Highness will come often +this way.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> By Saint Nicholas, I hope not. It is +too cold here for me. (<i>To <span class="smcap">Vera</span>.</i>) Young girl, +don't ask questions again about what does not +concern you. I will not forget your face.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Nor I yours, or what you are doing.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> You peasants are getting too saucy +since you ceased to be serfs, and the knout is the +best school for you to learn politics in. Sergeant, +proceed.</p> + +<p>(<i>The <span class="smcap">Colonel</span> turns and goes to top of stage. The +prisoners pass out double file; as <span class="smcap">Dmitri</span> passes <span class="smcap">Vera</span> +he lets a piece of paper fall on the ground; she puts her +foot on it and remains immobile.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter</span> (<i>who has been counting the money the <span class="smcap">Colonel</span> +gave him</i>). Long life to your Highness. I will hope +to see another batch soon. (<i>Suddenly catches sight of +<span class="smcap">Dmitri</span> as he is going out of the door, and screams +and rushes up.</i>) Dmitri! Dmitri! my God! what +brings you here? he is innocent, I tell you. I'll pay +for him. Take your money (<i>flings money on the +ground</i>), take all I have, give me my son. Villains! +Villains! where are you bringing him?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> To Siberia, old man.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> No, no; take me instead.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> He is a Nihilist.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Peter.</span> You lie! you lie! He is innocent. (<i>The +soldiers force him back with their guns and shut the +door against him. He beats with his fists against +it.</i>) Dmitri! Dmitri! a Nihilist! (<i>Falls down on +floor.</i>)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>who has remained motionless, picks up paper +now from under her feet and reads</i>). "99 Rue Tchernavaya, +Moscow. To strangle whatever nature is in +me; neither to love nor to be loved; neither to pity +nor to be pitied; neither to marry nor to be given +in marriage, till the end is come." My brother, I +shall keep the oath. (<i>Kisses the paper.</i>) You shall +be revenged!</p> + +<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Vera</span> stands immobile, holding paper in her lifted +hand. <span class="smcap">Peter</span> is lying on the floor. <span class="smcap">Michael</span>, who +has just come in, is bending over him.</i>)</p> + +<div class="bk3"><span class="smcap">End of Prologue.</span></div> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> +<h2>ACT I.<a name="ai_1" id="ai_1"></a><a href="#ni_1" class="anc">1</a></h2> + +<div class="stg2"><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Scene.</span>—<i>99 Rue Tchernavaya, Moscow. A large +garret lit by oil lamps hung from ceiling. Some +masked men standing silent and apart from one +another. A man in a scarlet mask is writing +at a table. Door at back. Man in yellow with +drawn sword at it. Knocks heard. Figures in +cloaks and masks enter.</i></p></div> + +<div class="stg1"><i>Password.</i> Per crucem ad lucem.</div> + +<div class="stg1"><i>Answer.</i> Per sanguinem ad libertatem.</div> + +<div class="stg1">(<i>Clock strikes. <span class="smcap">Conspirators</span> form a semicircle in +the middle of the stage.</i>)</div> + +<p><a name="ai_2" id="ai_2"></a><a href="#ni_2" class="anc">2</a><span class="smcap">President.</span> What is the word?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Consp.</span> Nabat.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> The answer?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Consp.</span> Kalit.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> What hour is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Third Consp.</span> The hour to suffer.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> What day?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fourth Consp.</span> The day of oppression.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> What year?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fifth Consp.</span> Since the Revolution of France, +the ninth year.<a href="#ni_2" class="anc">2</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> How many are we in number?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sixth Consp.</span> Ten, nine, and three.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> The Galilæan had less to conquer the +world; but what is our mission?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Seventh Consp.</span> To give freedom.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Our creed?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Eighth Consp.</span> To annihilate.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Our duty?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ninth Consp.</span> To obey.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Brothers, the questions have been answered +well. There are none but Nihilists present. Let us +see each other's faces. (<i>The <span class="smcap">Conspirators</span> unmask.</i>) +Michael, recite the oath.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Michael.</span> To strangle whatever nature is in us; +neither to love nor to be loved, neither to pity nor to +be pitied, neither to marry nor to be given in +marriage, till the end is come; to stab secretly by +night; to drop poison in the glass; to set father +against son, and husband against wife; without fear, +without hope, without future, to suffer, to annihilate, +to revenge.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Are we all agreed?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Conspirators.</span> We are all agreed. (<i>They disperse +in various directions about the stage.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> 'Tis after the hour, Michael, and she is not +yet here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Would that she were! We can do little +without her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alexis.</span> She cannot have been seized, President? +but the police are on her track, I know.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> You always seem to know a good deal +about the movements of the police in Moscow—too +much for an honest conspirator.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> If those dogs have caught her, <a name="ai_3" id="ai_3"></a><a href="#ni_3" class="anc">3</a>the red +flag of the people will float on a barricade in<a href="#ni_3" class="anc">3</a> every +street till we find her! It was foolish of her to go +to the Grand Duke's ball. I told her so, but she +said she wanted to see the Czar and all his cursed +brood face to face once.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alexis.</span> Gone to the State ball?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> I have no fear. She is as hard to capture +as a she-wolf is, and twice as dangerous; besides, +she is well disguised. But is there any news from +the Palace to-night, President? What is that +bloody<a name="ai_4" id="ai_4"></a><a href="#ni_4" class="anc">4</a> despot doing now besides torturing his +only son? Have any of you seen him? One hears +strange stories about him. They say he loves the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +people; but a king's son never does that. You +cannot breed them like that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Since he came back from abroad a year +ago his father has kept him in close prison in his +palace.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> An excellent training to make him a +tyrant in his turn; but is there any news, I say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> A council is to be held to-morrow, at four +o'clock, on some secret business the spies cannot +find out.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> A council in a king's palace is sure to +be about some bloody work or other. But in what +room is this council to be held?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> (<i>reading from letter</i>). In the yellow tapestry +room called after the Empress Catherine.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> I care not for such long-sounding names. +I would know where it is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> I cannot tell, Michael. I know more about +the insides of prisons than of palaces.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> (<i>speaking suddenly to <span class="smcap">Alexis</span></i>). Where is +this room, Alexis?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alexis.</span> It is on the first floor, looking out on +to the inner courtyard. But why do you ask, +Michael?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Nothing, nothing, boy! I merely take a +great interest in the Czar's life and movements, and +I knew you could tell me all about the palace. +Every poor student of medicine in Moscow knows +all about king's houses. It is their duty, is it not?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alexis</span> (<i>aside</i>). Can Michael suspect me? There +is something strange in his manner to-night. Why +doesn't she come? The whole fire of revolution +seems fallen into dull ashes when she is not here.</p> + +<p><a name="ai_5" id="ai_5"></a><a href="#ni_5" class="anc">5</a><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Have you cured many patients lately, at +your hospital, boy?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> There is one who lies sick to death I +would fain cure, but cannot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Ay, and who is that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> Russia, our mother.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> The curing of Russia is surgeon's business, +and must be done by the knife. I like not your +method of medicine.<a href="#ni_5" class="anc">5</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Professor, we have read the proofs of your +last article; it is very good indeed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> What is it about, Professor?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Professor.</span> The subject, my good brother, is +assassination considered as a method of political +reform.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> I think little of pen and ink in revolutions. +One dagger will do more than a hundred epigrams. +Still, let us read this scholar's last production. Give +it to me. I will read it myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prof.</span> Brother, you never mind your stops; let +Alexis read it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Ay! he is as tripping of speech as if he +were some young aristocrat; but for my own part I +care not for the stops so that the sense be plain.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> (<i>reading</i>). "The past has belonged to the +tyrant, and he has defiled it; ours is the future, and +we shall make it holy." Ay! let us make the future +holy; let there be one revolution at least which is not +bred in crime, nurtured in murder!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> They have spoken to us by the sword, and +by the sword we shall answer! You are too delicate +for us, Alexis. There should be none here but men +whose hands are rough with labour or red with blood.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Peace, Michael, peace! He is the bravest +heart among us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> (<i>aside</i>). He will need to be brave to-night.</p> + +<div class="stg1">(<i>The sound of sleigh bells is heard outside.</i>)</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice</span> (<i>outside</i>). Per crucem ad lucem.</p> + +<p><i>Answer of man on guard.</i> Per sanguinem ad libertatem.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Who is that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> God save the people!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Welcome, Vera, welcome! <a name="ai_6" id="ai_6"></a><a href="#ni_6" class="anc">6</a>We have been +sick at heart till we saw you; but now methinks the +star of freedom has come to wake us from the night.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span><a href="#ni_6" class="anc">6</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> <a name="ai_7" id="ai_7"></a><a href="#ni_7" class="anc">7</a>It is night, indeed, brother! Night without +moon or star!<a href="#ni_7" class="anc">7</a> Russia is smitten to the heart! +The man Ivan whom men call the Czar strikes now at +our mother with a dagger deadlier than ever forged by +tyranny against a people's life!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> What has the tyrant<a name="ai_8" id="ai_8"></a><a href="#ni_8" class="anc">8</a> done now?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> To-morrow martial law is to be proclaimed +in Russia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Omnes.</span> Martial law! We are lost! We are lost!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> Martial law! Impossible!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Fool, nothing is impossible in Russia but +reform.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Ay, martial law. The last right to which +the people clung has been taken from them. Without +trial, without appeal, without accuser even, our +brothers will be taken from their houses, shot in +the streets like dogs, sent away to die in the snow, +to starve in the dungeon, to rot in the mine. Do +you know what martial law means? It means the +strangling of a whole nation. <a name="ai_9" id="ai_9"></a><a href="#ni_9" class="anc">9</a>The streets will be +filled with soldiers night and day; there will be +sentinels at every door.<a href="#ni_9" class="anc">9</a> No man dare walk abroad +now but the spy or the traitor. Cooped up in the +dens we hide in, meeting by stealth, speaking with +bated breath; what good can we do now for Russia?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> We can suffer at least.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> We have done that too much already. +The hour is now come to annihilate and to revenge.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Up to this the people have borne everything.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Because they have understood nothing. +But now we, the Nihilists, have given them the tree +of knowledge to eat of and the day of silent suffering +is over for Russia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Martial law, Vera! This is fearful tidings +you bring.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> It is the death warrant of liberty in Russia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Or the tocsin of<a name="ai_10" id="ai_10"></a><a href="#ni_10" class="anc">10</a> revolution.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Are you sure it is true?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Here is the proclamation. I stole it +myself at the ball to-night from a young fool, one +of Prince Paul's secretaries, who had been given it +to copy. It was that which made me so late.</p> + +<div class="stg1">(<i><span class="smcap">Vera</span> hands proclamation to <span class="smcap">Michael</span>, who reads +it.</i>)</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> "To ensure the public safety—martial law. +By order of the Czar, father of his people." The +father of his people!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Ay! a father whose name shall not be +hallowed, whose kingdom shall change to a republic, +whose trespasses shall not be forgiven him, because +he has robbed us of our daily bread; with whom is +neither might, nor right, nor glory, now or for ever.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> It must be about this that the council +meet to-morrow. It has not yet been signed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> It shall not be while I have a tongue to +plead with.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Or while I have hands to smite with.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Martial law! O God, how easy it is for +a king to kill his people by thousands, but we cannot +rid ourselves of one crowned man in Europe! What +is there of awful majesty in these men which makes +the hand unsteady, the dagger treacherous, the pistol-shot +harmless? Are they not men of like passions with +ourselves, vulnerable to the same diseases, of flesh +and blood not different from our own? What made +Olgiati tremble at the supreme crisis of that Roman +life, <a name="ai_11" id="ai_11"></a><a href="#ni_11" class="anc">11</a>and Guido's nerve fail him when he should +have been of iron and of steel? A plague, I say, on +these fools of Naples, Berlin, and Spain!<a href="#ni_11" class="anc">11</a> Methinks +that if I stood face to face with one of the crowned +men my eye would see more clearly, my aim be more +sure, my whole body gain a strength and power that +was not my own! Oh, to think what stands between +us and freedom in Europe! a few old men, wrinkled, +feeble, tottering dotards whom a boy could strangle +for a ducat, or a woman stab in a night-time. And +these are the things that keep us from democracy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +that keep us from liberty. But now methinks the +brood of men is dead and the dull earth grown sick +of child-bearing, else would no crowned dog pollute +God's air by living.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Omnes.</span> Try us! Try us! Try us!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> We shall try thee, too, some day, Vera.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> I pray God thou mayest! Have I not +strangled whatever nature is in me, and shall I not +keep my oath?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> (<i>to <span class="smcap">President</span></i>). Martial law, President! +Come, there is no time to be lost. We have twelve +hours yet before us till the council meet. <a name="ai_12" id="ai_12"></a><a href="#ni_12" class="anc">12</a>Twelve +hours! One can overthrow a dynasty in less time +than that.<a href="#ni_12" class="anc">12</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> <a name="ai_13" id="ai_13"></a><a href="#ni_13" class="anc">13</a>Ay! or lose one's own head.<a href="#ni_13" class="anc">13</a></p> + +<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Michael</span> and the <span class="smcap">President</span> retire to one corner +of the stage and sit whispering. <span class="smcap">Vera</span> takes up the +proclamation, and reads it to herself; <span class="smcap">Alexis</span> watches +and suddenly rushes up to her.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> Vera!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Alexis, you here! Foolish boy, have I +not prayed you to stay away? All of us here are +doomed to die before our time, fated to expiate by +suffering whatever good we do; but you, with your +<a name="ai_14" id="ai_14"></a><a href="#ni_14" class="anc">14</a>bright boyish face,<a href="#ni_14" class="anc">14</a> you are too young to die yet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> One is never too young to die for one's +country!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Why do you come here night after night?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> Because I love the people.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> But your fellow-students must miss you. +Are there no traitors among them? You know what +spies there are in the University here. O Alexis, +you must go! You see how desperate suffering has +made us. There is no room here for a nature like +yours. You must not come again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> Why do you think so poorly of me? +Why should I live while my brothers suffer?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> You spake to me of your mother once. +You said you loved her. Oh, think of her!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> I have no mother now but Russia, my +life is hers to take or give away; but to-night I am +here to see you. They tell me you are leaving for +Novgorod to-morrow.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> I must. They are getting faint-hearted +there, and I would fan the flame of this revolution +into such a blaze that the eyes of all kings in Europe +shall be blinded. If martial law is passed they will +need me all the more there. There is no limit, it +seems, to the tyranny of one man; but there shall +be a limit to the suffering of a whole people.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> God knows it, I am with you. But you +must not go. <a name="ai_15" id="ai_15"></a><a href="#ni_15" class="anc">15</a>The police are watching every train +for you.<a href="#ni_15" class="anc">15</a> When you are seized they have orders to +place you without trial in the lowest dungeon of the +palace.<a name="ai_16" id="ai_16"></a><a href="#ni_16" class="anc">16</a> I know it—no matter how. <a name="ai_17" id="ai_17"></a><a href="#ni_17" class="anc">17</a>Oh, think +how without you the sun goes from our life, how the +people will lose their leader and liberty her priestess.<a href="#ni_17" class="anc">17</a> +Vera, you must not go!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> If you wish it, I will stay. I would live +a little longer for freedom, a little longer for Russia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> When you die then Russia is smitten indeed; +when you die then I shall lose all hope—all.... +Vera, this is fearful news you bring—martial +law—it is too terrible. I knew it not, by my soul, +I knew it not!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> How could you have known it? It is +too well laid a plot for that. This great White Czar, +whose hands are red with the blood of the people +he has murdered, whose soul is black with his +iniquity, is the cleverest conspirator of us all. Oh, +how could Russia bear two hearts like yours and his!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> Vera, the Emperor was not always like +this. There was a time when he loved the people. +It is that devil, whom God curse, Prince Paul +Maraloffski who has brought him to this. To-morrow, +I swear it, I shall plead for the people to +the Emperor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Plead to the Czar! Foolish boy, it is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +only those who are sentenced to death that ever see +our Czar. Besides, what should he care for a voice +that pleads for mercy? The cry of a strong nation +in its agony has not moved that heart of stone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> (<i>aside</i>). Yet shall I plead to him. They +can but kill me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prof.</span> Here are the proclamations, Vera. Do +you think they will do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> I shall read them. <a name="ai_18" id="ai_18"></a><a href="#ni_18" class="anc">18</a>How fair he looks?<a href="#ni_18" class="anc">18</a> +Methinks he never seemed so noble as to-night. +Liberty is blessed in having such a lover.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> Well, President, what are you deep in?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> We are thinking of the best way of killing +bears. (<i>Whispers to <span class="smcap">President</span> and leads him aside.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prof.</span> (<i>to <span class="smcap">Vera</span></i>). And the letters <a name="ai_19" id="ai_19"></a><a href="#ni_19" class="anc">19</a>from our +brothers at Paris and Berlin. What answer shall we +send to them?<a href="#ni_19" class="anc">19</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>takes them mechanically</i>). Had I not +strangled nature, sworn neither to love nor be loved, +methinks<a name="ai_20" id="ai_20"></a><a href="#ni_20" class="anc">20</a> I might have loved him. Oh, I am a +fool, a traitor myself, a traitor myself! But why did +he come amongst us with his bright<a name="ai_21" id="ai_21"></a><a href="#ni_21" class="anc">21</a> young face, his +heart aflame for liberty, his pure white soul? Why +does he make me feel at times as if I would have him +as my king, Republican though I be? Oh, fool, fool, +fool! False to your oath! weak as water! Have +done! Remember what you are—a Nihilist, a Nihilist!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> (<i>to <span class="smcap">Michael</span></i>). But you will be seized, +Michael.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> I think not. I will wear the uniform of +the Imperial Guard, and the Colonel on duty is one +of us. It is on the first floor, you remember; so I +can take a long shot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Shall I tell the brethren?</p> + +<p><a name="ai_22" id="ai_22"></a><a href="#ni_22" class="anc">22</a><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Not a word, not a word! There is a +traitor amongst us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Come, are these the proclamations? Yes, +they will do; yes, they will do. Send five hundred to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +Kiev and Odessa and Novgorod, five hundred to +Warsaw, and have twice the number distributed +among the Southern Provinces, though these dull +Russian peasants care little for our proclamations, and +less for our martyrdoms. When the blow is struck, +it must be from the town, not from the country.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Ay, and by the sword not by the goose-quill.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Where are the letters from Poland?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prof.</span> Here.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Unhappy Poland! The eagles of Russia +have fed on her heart. We must not forget our +brothers there.<a href="#ni_22" class="anc">22</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Is this true, Michael?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Ay, I stake my life on it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> <a name="ai_23" id="ai_23"></a><a href="#ni_23" class="anc">23</a>Let the doors be locked, then.<a href="#ni_23" class="anc">23</a> Alexis +Ivanacievitch entered on our roll of the brothers as a +Student of the School of Medicine at Moscow. Why +did you not tell us of this bloody scheme<a name="ai_24" id="ai_24"></a><a href="#ni_24" class="anc">24</a> of martial +law?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> I, President?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Ay, you! You knew it, none better. +Such weapons as these are not forged in a day. +Why did you not tell us of it? A week ago there +had been time <a name="ai_25" id="ai_25"></a><a href="#ni_25" class="anc">25</a>to lay the mine, to raise the barricade, +to strike one blow at least for liberty.<a href="#ni_25" class="anc">25</a> But +now the hour is past. It is too late, <a name="ai_26" id="ai_26"></a><a href="#ni_26" class="anc">26</a>it is too late!<a href="#ni_26" class="anc">26</a> +Why did you keep it a secret from us, I say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> Now by the hand of freedom, Michael, +my brother, you wrong me. I knew nothing of this +hideous law. By my soul, my brothers, I knew +not of it! How should I know?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Because you are a traitor! Where did +you go when you left us the night of our last meeting +here?</p> + +<p><a name="ai_27" id="ai_27"></a><a href="#ni_27" class="anc">27</a><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> To mine own house, Michael.<a href="#ni_27" class="anc">27</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Liar! I was on your track. You left +here an hour after midnight. Wrapped in a large +cloak, you crossed the river in a boat a mile below<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> +the second bridge, and gave the ferryman a gold +piece, you, the poor student of medicine! You +doubled back twice, and hid in an archway so long +that I had almost made up my mind to stab you +at once, only that I am fond of hunting. So! you +thought that you had baffled all pursuit, did you? +Fool! I am a bloodhound that never loses the scent. +I followed you from street to street. At last I saw +you pass swiftly across the Place St. Isaac, whisper +to the guards the secret password, enter the palace +by a private door with your own key.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Conspirators.</span> The palace!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Alexis!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> I waited. All through the dreary watches +of our long Russian night I waited, that I might kill +you with your Judas hire still hot in your hand. +But you never came out; you never left that palace +at all. I saw the blood-red sun rise through the +yellow fog over the murky town; I saw a new day +of oppression dawn on Russia; but you never came +out. So you pass nights in the palace, do you? +You know the password for the guards! you have a +key to a secret door. Oh, you are a spy—you are +a spy! I never trusted you, <a name="ai_28" id="ai_28"></a><a href="#ni_28" class="anc">28</a>with your soft white +hands, your curled hair, your pretty graces.<a href="#ni_28" class="anc">28</a> You +have no mark of suffering about you; you cannot be +of the people. You are a spy—<a name="ai_29" id="ai_29"></a><a href="#ni_29" class="anc">29</a>a spy—traitor.<a href="#ni_29" class="anc">29</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Omnes.</span> Kill him! Kill him! (<i>draw their knives</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>rushing in front of <span class="smcap">Alexis</span></i>). Stand back, +I say, Michael! Stand back all! <a name="ai_30" id="ai_30"></a><a href="#ni_30" class="anc">30</a>Do not dare<a href="#ni_30" class="anc">30</a> +lay a hand upon him! He is the noblest heart +amongst us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Omnes.</span> Kill him! Kill him! He is a spy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Dare to lay a finger on him, and I leave +you all to yourselves.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Vera, did you not hear what Michael said +of him? He stayed all night in the Czar's palace. +He has a password and a private key. What else +should he be but a spy?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Bah! I do not believe Michael. It is a +lie! It is<a name="ai_31" id="ai_31"></a><a href="#ni_31" class="anc">31</a> a lie! Alexis, say it is a lie!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> It is true. Michael has told what he saw. +I did pass that night in the Czar's palace. Michael +has spoken the truth.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Stand back, I say; stand back! Alexis, +I do not care. I trust you; you would not betray +us; you would not sell the people for money. You +are honest, true! Oh, say you are no spy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> Spy? You know I am not. I am with +you, my brothers, to the death.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Ay, to your own death.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> Vera, you<a name="ai_32" id="ai_32"></a><a href="#ni_32" class="anc">32</a> know I am true.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> I know it well.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Why are you here, traitor?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> Because I love the people.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Then you can be a martyr for them?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> You must kill me first, Michael, before +you lay a finger on him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Michael, we dare not lose Vera. It is her +whim to let this boy live. We can keep him here +to-night. Up to this he has not betrayed us.</p> + +<div class="stg1">(<i>Tramp of soldiers outside, knocking at door.</i>)<a name="ai_33" id="ai_33"></a><a href="#ni_33" class="anc">33</a></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice.</span> Open in the name of the Emperor!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> He <i>has</i> betrayed us. This is your doing, +spy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Come, Michael, come. We have no time +to cut one another's throats while we have our own +heads to save.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice.</span> Open in the name of the Emperor!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Brothers, be masked all of you. <a name="ai_34" id="ai_34"></a><a href="#ni_34" class="anc">34</a>Michael, +open the door. It is our only chance.<a href="#ni_34" class="anc">34</a></p> + +<div class="stg1">(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">General Kotemkin</span> and soldiers.</i>)</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen.</span> All honest citizens should be in their own +houses at an hour before midnight, and not more +than five people have a right to meet privately. +Have you not noticed the proclamation, fellows?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Ay, you have spoiled every honest<a name="ai_35" id="ai_35"></a><a href="#ni_35" class="anc">35</a> wall +in Moscow with it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Peace, Michael, peace. Nay, Sir, we knew +it not. We are a company of strolling players travelling +from Samara to Moscow to amuse His Imperial +Majesty the Czar.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen.</span> But I heard loud voices before I entered. +What was that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> We were rehearsing a new tragedy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen.</span> Your answers are too <i>honest</i> to be true. +Come, let me see who you are. Take off those +players' masks. By St. Nicholas, my beauty, if your +face matches your figure, you must be a choice +morsel! Come, I say, pretty one; I would sooner +see your face than those of all the others.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> O God! if he sees it is Vera, we are all +lost!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen.</span> No coquetting, my girl. Come, unmask, I +say, or I shall tell my guards to do it for you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> Stand back, I say, General Kotemkin!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen.</span> Who are you, fellow, that talk with such +a tripping tongue to your betters? (<i><span class="smcap">Alexis</span> takes +his mask off</i>.) His Imperial Highness the Czarevitch!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Omnes.</span> The Czarevitch! <a name="ai_36" id="ai_36"></a><a href="#ni_36" class="anc">36</a>It is all over!<a href="#ni_36" class="anc">36</a></p> + +<p><a name="ai_37" id="ai_37"></a><a href="#ni_37" class="anc">37</a><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> He will give us up to the soldiers.<a href="#ni_37" class="anc">37</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> (<i>to <span class="smcap">Vera</span></i>). Why did you not let me kill +him? Come, we must fight to the death for it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Peace! he will not betray us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> A whim of mine, General! You know +how my father keeps me from the world and imprisons +me in the palace. I should really be bored +to death if I could not get out at night in disguise +sometimes, and have some romantic adventure in +town. I fell in with these honest folks a few hours +ago.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen.</span> But, your Highness—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> Oh, they are excellent actors, I assure you. +If you had come in ten minutes ago, you would have +witnessed a most interesting scene.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen.</span> Actors, are they, Prince?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> Ay, and very ambitious actors, too. They +only care to play before kings.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen.</span> I' faith, your Highness, I was in hopes I +had made a good haul of Nihilists.<a name="ai_38" id="ai_38"></a><a href="#ni_38" class="anc">38</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> Nihilists in Moscow, General! with you as +head of the police? Impossible!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen.</span> So I always tell your Imperial father. But +I heard at the council to-day that that woman Vera +Sabouroff, the head of them, had been seen in this +very city. The Emperor's face turned as white as +the snow outside. I think I never saw such terror +in any man before.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> She is a dangerous woman, then, this Vera +Sabouroff?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen.</span> The most dangerous in all Europe.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> Did you ever see her, General?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen.</span> Why, five years ago, when I was a plain +Colonel, I remember her, your Highness, a common +waiting girl in an inn. If I had known then what +she was going to turn out, I would have flogged her +to death on the roadside. She is not a woman at +all; she is a sort of devil! For the last eighteen +months I have been hunting her, and caught sight of +her once last September outside Odessa.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> How did you let her go, General?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen.</span> I was by myself, and she shot one of my +horses just as I was gaining on her. If I see her +again I shan't miss my chance. The Emperor has +put twenty thousand roubles on her head.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> I hope you will get it, General; but meanwhile +you are frightening these honest people out of +their wits, and disturbing the tragedy. Good night, +General.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen.</span> Yes; but I should like to see their faces, +your Highness.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> No, General; you must not ask that; you +know how these gipsies hate to be stared at.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen.</span> Yes. But, your Highness—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> (<i>haughtily</i>). General, they are my friends,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> +that is enough. And, General, not a word of this +little adventure here, you understand. I shall rely +on you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen.</span> I shall not forget, Prince. But shall we not +see you back to the palace? The State ball is almost +over and you are expected.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> I shall be there; but I shall return alone. +Remember, not a word about my strolling players.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen.</span> Or your pretty gipsy, eh, Prince? your +pretty gipsy! I' faith, I should like to see her +before I go; she has such fine eyes through her +mask. Well, good night, your Highness; good +night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> Good night, General.</p> + +<div class="stg1">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">General</span> and the soldiers.</i>)</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>throwing off her mask</i>). Saved! and by +you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Alex.</span> (<i>clasping her hand</i>). Brothers, you trust +me now?</p> + +<div class="bk3">TABLEAU.</div> + +<div class="bk3"><span class="smcap">End of Act I.</span></div> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> +<h2>ACT II.</h2> + +<div class="stg2"><p class="p2"><span class="smcap">Scene.</span>—<i>Council Chamber in the Emperor's Palace, +hung with yellow tapestry. Table, with chair of +State, set for the Czar; window behind, opening +on to a balcony. As the scene progresses the light +outside gets darker.</i></p> + +<p class="p2"><i>Present.</i>—<span class="smcap">Prince Paul Maraloffski, Prince +Petrovitch, Count Rouvaloff, Baron Raff, +Count Petouchof.</span></p></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> So our young scatter-brained +Czarevitch has been forgiven at last, and is to take +his seat here again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Yes; if that is not meant as an +extra punishment. For my own part, at least, I find +these Cabinet Councils extremely exhausting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> Naturally; you are always +speaking.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> No; I think it must be that I +have to listen sometimes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Count R.</span> Still, anything is better than being +kept in a sort of prison, like he was—never allowed +to go out into the world.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> My dear Count, for romantic +young people like he is, the world always looks best +at a distance; and a prison where one's allowed to +order one's own dinner is not at all a bad place. +(<i>Enter the <span class="smcap">Czarevitch</span>. The courtiers rise.</i>) Ah! +good afternoon, Prince. Your Highness is looking +a little pale to-day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> (<i>slowly, after a pause</i>). I want change of +air.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>smiling</i>). A most revolutionary<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +sentiment! Your Imperial father would highly disapprove +of any reforms with the thermometer in +Russia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> (<i>bitterly</i>). My Imperial father had kept me +for six months in this dungeon of a palace. This +morning he has me suddenly woke up to see some +wretched Nihilists hung; it sickened me, the bloody +butchery, though it was a noble thing to see how +well these men can die.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> When you are as old as I am, +Prince, you will understand that there are few things +easier than to live badly and to die well.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> Easy to die well! A lesson experience +cannot have taught you, whatever you may know of +a bad life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>shrugging his shoulders</i>). Experience, +the name men give to their mistakes. I never +commit any.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> (<i>bitterly</i>). No; crimes are more in your +line.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> (<i>to the <span class="smcap">Czarevitch</span></i>). The Emperor +was a good deal agitated about your late appearance +at the ball last night, Prince.</p> + +<p><a name="aii_1" id="aii_1"></a><a href="#nii_1" class="anc">1</a><span class="smcap">Count R.</span> (<i>laughing</i>). I believe he thought the +Nihilists had broken into the palace and carried you +off.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron Raff.</span> If they had you would have missed +a charming dance.<a href="#nii_1" class="anc">1</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> And<a name="aii_2" id="aii_2"></a><a href="#nii_2" class="anc">2</a> an excellent supper. Gringoire +really excelled himself in his salad. Ah! you +may laugh, Baron; but to make a good salad is a +much more difficult thing than cooking accounts. +To make a good salad is to be a brilliant diplomatist—the +problem is so entirely the same in both cases. +To know exactly how much oil one must put with +one's vinegar.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron Raff.</span> A cook and a diplomatist! an +excellent parallel. If I had a son who was a fool +I'd make him one or the other.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> I see your father did not hold the +same opinion, Baron. But, believe me, you are +wrong to run down cookery. For myself, the only +immortality I desire is to invent a new sauce. I +have never had time enough to think seriously about +it, but I feel it is in me, I feel it is in me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> You have certainly missed your <i>metier</i>,<a name="aii_3" id="aii_3"></a><a href="#nii_3" class="anc">3</a> +Prince Paul; the <i>cordon bleu</i> would have suited you +much better than the Grand Cross of Honour. But +you know you could never have worn your white +apron well; you would have soiled it too soon, your +hands are not clean enough.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>bowing</i>). Que voulez vous? I +manage your father's business.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> (<i>bitterly</i>). You mismanage my father's +business, you mean! Evil genius of his life that you +are! before you came there was some love left in +him. It is you who have embittered his nature, +poured into his ear the poison of treacherous counsel, +made him hated by the whole people, made him +what he is—a tyrant!</p> + +<div class="stg1">(<i>The courtiers look significantly at each other.</i>)</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>calmly</i>). I see your Highness does +want change of air. But I have been an eldest son +myself. (<i>Lights a cigarette.</i>) I know what it is when +a father won't die to please one.</p> + +<div class="stg1">(<i>The <span class="smcap">Czarevitch</span> goes to the top of the stage, and +leans against the window, looking out.</i>)</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> (<i>to <span class="smcap">Baron Raff</span></i>). Foolish boy! +<a name="aii_4" id="aii_4"></a><a href="#nii_4" class="anc">4</a>He will be sent into exile, or worse, if he is not +careful.<a href="#nii_4" class="anc">4</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron Raff.</span> Yes.<a name="aii_5" id="aii_5"></a><a href="#nii_5" class="anc">5</a> What a mistake it is to be +sincere!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> The only folly you have never +committed, Baron.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron Raff.</span> One has only one head, you know, +Prince.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> My dear Baron, your head is the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +last thing any one would wish to take from you. +(<i>Pulls out snuffbox and offers it to <span class="smcap">Prince Petrovitch</span>.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> Thanks, Prince! Thanks!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Very delicate, isn't it? I get it +direct from Paris. But under this vulgar Republic +everything has degenerated over there. "Cotelettes à +l'impériale" vanished, of course, with the Bourbon, +and omelettes went out with the Orleanists. La +belle France is entirely ruined, Prince, through bad +morals and worse cookery. (<i>Enter the <span class="smcap">Marquis de +Poivrard</span>.</i>) Ah! Marquis. I trust Madame la +Marquise is well.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marquis de P.</span> You ought to know better than +I do, Prince Paul; you see more <i>of</i> her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>bowing</i>). Perhaps I see more <i>in</i> +her, Marquis. Your wife is really a charming woman, +so full of <i>esprit</i>, and so satirical too; she talks continually +of you when we are together.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> (<i>looking at the clock</i>). His Majesty +is a little late to-day, is he not?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> What has happened to you, my +dear Petrovitch? you seem quite out of sorts. You +haven't quarrelled with your cook, I hope? What a +tragedy that would be for you; you would lose all +your friends.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> I fear I wouldn't be so fortunate +as that. You forget I would still have my purse.<a name="aii_6" id="aii_6"></a><a href="#nii_6" class="anc">6</a> +But you are wrong for once; my chef and I are on +excellent<a name="aii_7" id="aii_7"></a><a href="#nii_7" class="anc">7</a> terms.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Then your creditors or Mademoiselle +Vera Sabouroff have been writing to you? +I find both of them such excellent correspondents. +But really you needn't be alarmed. I find the most +violent proclamations from the Executive Committee, +as they call it, left all over my house. I never read +them; they are so badly spelt as a rule.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> Wrong again, Prince; the Nihilists +leave me alone for some reason or other.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>aside</i>). Ah! true. I forgot. Indifference +is the revenge the world takes on mediocrities.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> I am bored with life,<a name="aii_8" id="aii_8"></a><a href="#nii_8" class="anc">8</a> Prince. +Since the opera season ended I have been a perpetual +martyr to ennui.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> The maladie du siècle! You +want a new excitement, Prince. Let me see—you +have been married twice already; suppose you try—falling +in love, for once.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron R.</span> Prince, I have been thinking a good +deal lately—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>interrupting</i>). You surprise me +very much, Baron.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron R.</span> I cannot understand your nature.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>smiling</i>). If my nature had been +made to suit your comprehension rather than my own +requirements, I am afraid I would have made a very +poor figure in the world.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Count R.</span> There seems to be nothing in life +about which you would not jest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Ah! my dear Count, life is much +too important a thing ever to talk seriously about it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> (<i>coming back from the window</i>). I don't +think Prince Paul's nature is such a mystery. He +would stab his best friend for the sake of writing an +epigram on his tombstone, or experiencing a new +sensation.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Parbleu! I would sooner lose my +best friend than my worst enemy. To have friends, +you know, one need only be good-natured; but when +a man has no enemy left there must be something +mean about him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> (<i>bitterly</i>). If to have enemies is a measure +of greatness, then you must be a Colossus, indeed, +Prince.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Yes, I know I'm the most hated +man in Russia, except your father, <a name="aii_9" id="aii_9"></a><a href="#nii_9" class="anc">9</a>except your +father, of course,<a href="#nii_9" class="anc">9</a> Prince. He doesn't seem to like it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +much, by the way, but I do, I assure you. (<i>Bitterly.</i>) +I love to drive through the streets and see how the +canaille scowl at me from every corner. It makes me +feel I am a power in Russia; one man against a hundred +millions! Besides, I have no ambition to be a +popular hero, to be crowned with laurels one year and +pelted with stones the next; I prefer dying peaceably +in my own bed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> And after death?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>shrugging his shoulders</i>). Heaven is +a despotism. I shall be at home there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> Do you never think of the people and +their rights?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> The people and their rights bore +me. I am sick of both. In these modern days to +be vulgar, illiterate, common and vicious, seems to +give a man a marvellous infinity of rights that his +honest fathers never dreamed of. Believe me, +Prince, in good democracy every man should be an +aristocrat; but these people in Russia who seek to +thrust us out are no better than the animals in one's +preserves, and made to be shot at, most of them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> (<i>excitedly</i>). If they are<a name="aii_10" id="aii_10"></a><a href="#nii_10" class="anc">10</a> common, illiterate, +vulgar, no better than the beasts of the field, +who made them so?</p> + +<div class="stg1">(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Aide-de-Camp</span>.</i>)</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Aide-de-Camp.</span> His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor! +(<i><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> looks at the <span class="smcap">Czarevitch</span>, +and smiles.</i>)</p> + +<div class="stg1">(<i>Enter the <span class="smcap">Czar</span>, surrounded by his guard.</i>)</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> (<i>rushing forward to meet him</i>). Sire!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar</span> (<i>nervous and frightened</i>). Don't come too +near me, boy! Don't come too near me, I say! +There is always something about an heir to a crown +unwholesome to his father. Who is that man over +there? I don't know him. What is he doing? Is +he a conspirator? Have you searched him? Give +him till to-morrow to confess, then hang him!—hang +him!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Sire, you are anticipating history. +This is Count Petouchof, your new ambassador to +Berlin. He is come to kiss hands on his appointment.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> To kiss my hand? There is some plot in +it. He wants to poison me. There, kiss my son's +hand; it will do quite as well.</p> + +<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> signs to <span class="smcap">Count Petouchof</span> to +leave the room. Exit <span class="smcap">Petouchof</span> and the guards. +<span class="smcap">Czar</span> sinks down into his chair. The courtiers remain +silent.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>approaching</i>). Sire! will your +Majesty—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> What do you startle me like that for? +No, I won't. (<i>Watches the courtiers nervously.</i>) +Why are you clattering your sword, sir? (<i>To <span class="smcap">Count +Rouvaloff</span>.</i>) Take it off, I shall have no man +wear a sword in my presence (<i>looking at <span class="smcap">Czarevitch</span></i>), +least of all my son. (<i>To <span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span>.</i>) +You are not angry with me, Prince? You won't +desert me, will you? Say you won't desert me. +What do you want? You can have anything—anything.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>bowing very low</i>). Sire, 'tis enough +for me to have your confidence. (<i>Aside.</i>) I was +afraid he was going to revenge himself and give +me another decoration.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar</span> (<i>returning to his chair</i>). Well, gentlemen.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marq. de Poiv.</span> Sire, I have the honour to +present to you a loyal address from your subjects +in the Province of Archangel, expressing their +horror at the last attempt on your Majesty's life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> The last attempt but two, you +ought to have said, Marquis. Don't you see it is +dated three weeks back?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> They are good people in the Province of +Archangel—honest, loyal people. They love me very +much—simple, loyal people; give them a new<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> +saint, it costs nothing. Well, Alexis (<i>turning to the +<span class="smcap">Czarevitch</span></i>)—how many traitors were hung this +morning?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> There were three men strangled, Sire.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> There should have been three<a name="aii_11" id="aii_11"></a><a href="#nii_11" class="anc">11</a> thousand. +I would to God that this people had but one neck +that I might strangle them with one noose! Did +they tell anything? whom did they implicate? what +did they confess?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> Nothing, Sire.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> They should have been tortured then; +why weren't they tortured? Must I always be fighting +in the dark? Am I never to know from what +root these traitors spring?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> What root should there be of discontent +among the people but tyranny and injustice amongst +their rulers?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> What did you say, boy? tyranny! tyranny! +Am I a tyrant? I'm not. I love the people. I'm +their father. I'm called so in every official proclamation. +Have a care, boy; have a care. You don't +seem to be cured yet of your foolish tongue. (<i>Goes +over to <span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span>, and puts his hand on his +shoulder.</i>) Prince Paul, tell me were there many +people there this morning to see the Nihilists +hung?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Hanging is of course a good deal +less of a novelty in Russia now, Sire, than it was +three or four years ago; and you know how easily +the people get tired even of their best amusements. +But the square and the tops of the houses were +really quite crowded, were they not, Prince? (<i>To +the <span class="smcap">Czarevitch</span> who takes no notice.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> That's right; all loyal citizens should be +there. It shows them what to look forward to. Did +you arrest any one in the crowd?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Yes, Sire, a woman for cursing +your name. (<i>The <span class="smcap">Czarevitch</span> starts anxiously.</i>) +She was the mother of the two criminals.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar</span> (<i>looking at <span class="smcap">Czarevitch</span></i>). She should have +blessed me for having rid her of her children. Send +her to prison.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> The prisons of Russia are too full already, +Sire. There is no room in them for any +more victims.</p> + +<p><a name="aii_12" id="aii_12"></a><a href="#nii_12" class="anc">12</a><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> They don't die fast enough, then. You +should put more of them into one cell at once. +You don't keep them long enough in the mines. If +you do they're sure to die; but you're all too merciful. +I'm too merciful myself. Send her to Siberia.<a href="#nii_12" class="anc">12</a> +She is sure to die on the way. (<i>Enter an <span class="smcap">Aide-de-Camp</span>.</i>) +Who's that? Who's that?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Aide-de-Camp.</span> A letter for his Imperial +Majesty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar</span> (<i>to <span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span></i>). I won't open it. There +may be something in it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> It would be a very disappointing +letter, Sire, if there wasn't. (<i>Takes letter himself, +and reads it.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> (<i>to <span class="smcap">Count Rouvaloff</span></i>). It must +be some sad news. I know that smile too well.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> From the Chief of the Police at +Archangel, Sire. "The Governor of the province +was shot this morning by a woman as he was entering +the courtyard of his own house. The assassin +has been seized."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> I never trusted the people of Archangel. +It's a nest of Nihilists and conspirators. Take away +their saints; they don't deserve them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Your Highness would punish them +more severely by giving them an extra one. Three +governors shot in two months. (<i>Smiles to himself.</i>) +Sire, permit me to recommend your loyal subject, +the Marquis de Poivrard, as the new governor of +your Province of Archangel.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marq. de Poiv.</span> (<i>hurriedly</i>). Sire, I am unfit for +this post.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Marquis, you are too modest.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +Believe me, there is no man in Russia I would +sooner see Governor of Archangel than yourself. +(<i>Whispers to <span class="smcap">Czar</span>.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Quite right, Prince Paul; you are always +right. See that the Marquis's letters are made out +at once.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> He can start to-night, Sire. I +shall really miss you very much, Marquis. I always +liked your taste in wines and wives extremely.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marq. de Poiv.</span> (<i>to the <span class="smcap">Czar</span></i>). Start to-night, +Sire? (<i><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> whispers to the <span class="smcap">Czar</span>.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Yes, Marquis, to-night; it is better to go +at once.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> I shall see that Madame la Marquise +is not too lonely while you are away; so you +need not be alarmed for her.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Count R.</span> (<i>to <span class="smcap">Prince Petrovitch</span></i>). I should be +more alarmed for myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> The Governor of Archangel shot in his +own courtyard by a woman! I'm not safe here. +I'm not safe anywhere, with that she devil of the +revolution, Vera Sabouroff, here in Moscow. Prince +Paul, is that woman still here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> They tell me she was at the +Grand Duke's ball last night. I can hardly believe +that; but she certainly had intended to leave for +Novgorod to-day, Sire. The police were watching +every train for her; but, for some reason or other, +she did not go. Some traitor must have warned her. +But I shall catch her yet. A chase after a beautiful +woman is always exciting.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> You must hunt her down with bloodhounds, +and when she is taken I shall hew her limb +from limb. I shall stretch her on the rack till her +pale white body is twisted and curled like paper in +the fire.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Oh, we shall have another hunt +immediately for her, Sire! Prince Alexis will assist +us, I am sure.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> You never require any assistance to ruin +a woman, Prince Paul.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Vera, the Nihilist, in Moscow! O God,<a name="aii_13" id="aii_13"></a><a href="#nii_13" class="anc">13</a> +were it not better to die at once the dog's death they +plot for me than to live as I live now! Never to +sleep, or, if I do, to dream such horrid dreams that +Hell itself were peace when matched with them. To +trust none but those I have bought, to buy none +worth trusting! To see a traitor in every smile, +poison in every dish, a dagger in every hand! To +lie awake at night, listening from hour to hour for the +stealthy creeping of the murderer, for the laying of +the damned mine! You are all spies! you are all +spies! You worst of all—you, my own son! Which of +you is it who hides these bloody proclamations under +my own pillow, or at the table where I sit? Which of +ye all is the Judas who betrays me? O God! O +God! methinks there was a time once, in our war +with England, when nothing could make me afraid. +(<i>This with more calm and pathos.</i>) I have ridden +into the crimson heart of war, and borne back an +eagle which those wild islanders had taken from us. +Men said I was brave then. My father gave me the +Iron Cross of valour. Oh, could he see me now with +this coward's livery ever in my cheek! (<i>Sinks into +his chair.</i>) I never knew any love when I was a boy. +I was ruled by terror myself, how else should I rule +now? (<i>Starts up.</i>) But I will have revenge; I will +have revenge. For every hour I have lain awake at +night, waiting for the noose or the dagger, they shall +pass years in Siberia, centuries in the mines! Ay! +I shall have revenge.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> Father! have mercy on the people. Give +them what they ask.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> And begin, Sire, with your own +head; they have a particular liking for that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> The people! the people! A tiger which I +have let loose upon myself; but I will fight with it to +the death. <a name="aii_14" id="aii_14"></a><a href="#nii_14" class="anc">14</a>I am done with half measures.<a href="#nii_14" class="anc">14</a> I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +shall crush these Nihilists at a blow. There shall not +be a man of them, ay, or a woman either, left alive in +Russia. <a name="aii_15" id="aii_15"></a><a href="#nii_15" class="anc">15</a>Am I Emperor for<a href="#nii_15" class="anc">15</a> nothing, that a +woman should hold me at bay? Vera Sabouroff shall +be in my power, I swear it, before a week is ended, +<a name="aii_16" id="aii_16"></a><a href="#nii_16" class="anc">16</a>though I burn my whole city to find her.<a href="#nii_16" class="anc">16</a> She +shall be flogged by the knout, stifled in the fortress, +strangled in the square!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> O God!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> For two years her hands have been clutching +at my throat; for two years she has made my life +a hell; but I shall have revenge. Martial law, Prince, +martial law over the whole Empire; that will give me +revenge. A good measure, Prince, eh? a good +measure.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> And an economical one too, Sire. +It would carry off your surplus population in six +months, and save you many expenses in courts of +justice; they will not be needed now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Quite right. There are too many people in +Russia, too much money spent on them, too much +money in courts of justice. I'll shut them up.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> Sire, reflect before—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> When can you have the proclamations +ready, Prince Paul?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> They have been printed for the +last six months, Sire. I knew you would need them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> That's good! That's very good! Let us +begin at once. Ah, Prince, if every king in Europe +had a minister like you—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> There would be less kings in Europe than +there are.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar</span> (<i>in frightened whisper, to <span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span></i>). +What does he mean? Do you trust him? His prison +hasn't cured him yet. Shall I banish him? Shall I +(<i>whispers</i>)...? The Emperor Paul did it. The +Empress Catherine there<a name="aii_17" id="aii_17"></a><a href="#nii_17" class="anc">17</a> (<i>points to picture on the +wall</i>) did it. Why shouldn't I?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Your Majesty, there is no need<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +for alarm. The Prince is a very ingenuous young man. +He pretends to be devoted to the people, and lives in +a palace; preaches socialism, and draws a salary that +would support a province. He'll find out one day +that the best cure for Republicanism is the Imperial +crown, and will cut up the "bonnet rogue" of Democracy +to make decorations for his Prime Minister.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> You are right. If he really loved the +people, he could not be my son.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> If he lived with the people for a +fortnight, their bad dinners would soon cure him of +his democracy. Shall we begin, Sire?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> At once. Read the proclamation. Gentlemen, +be seated. Alexis, Alexis, I say, come and +hear it! It will be good practice for you; you will +be doing it yourself some day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> I have heard too much of it already. +(<i>Takes his seat at the table. <span class="smcap">Count Rouvaloff</span> +whispers to him.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> What are you whispering about there, +Count Rouvaloff?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Count R.</span> I was giving his Royal Highness +some good advice, your Majesty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Count Rouvaloff is the typical +spendthrift, Sire; he is always giving away what he +needs most. (<i>Lays papers before the <span class="smcap">Czar</span>.</i>) I +think, Sire, you will approve of this:—"Love of +the people," "Father of his people," "Martial law," +and the usual allusions to Providence in the last +line. All it requires now is your Imperial Majesty's +signature.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> Sire!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>hurriedly</i>). I promise your Majesty +to crush every Nihilist in Russia in six months +if you sign this proclamation; every Nihilist in +Russia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Say that again! To crush every Nihilist +in Russia; to crush this woman, their leader, who +makes war upon me in my own city. Prince Paul<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +Maraloffski, I create you Marechale of the whole +Russian Empire to help you to carry out martial +law.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Give me the proclamation. I will sign it +at once.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>points on paper</i>). Here, Sire.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> (<i>starts up and puts his hands on the paper</i>). +Stay! I tell you, stay! The priests have taken +heaven from the people, and you would take the +earth away too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> We have no time, Prince, now. +This boy will ruin everything. The pen, Sire.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> What! is it so small a thing to strangle +a nation, to murder a kingdom, to wreck an empire? +Who are we who dare lay this ban of terror on a +people? Have we less vices than they have, that +we bring them to the bar of judgment before us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> What a Communist the Prince is! +He would have an equal distribution of sin as well +as of property.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> Warmed by the same sun, nurtured by +the same air, fashioned of flesh and blood like to +our own, wherein are they different to us, save that +they starve while we surfeit, that they toil while we +idle, that they sicken while we poison, that they die +while we strangle?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> How dare—?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> I dare all for the people; but you would +rob them of common rights of common men.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> The people have no rights.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> Then they have great wrongs. Father, +they have won your battles for you; from the pine +forests of the Baltic to the palms of India they have +ridden on victory's mighty wings in search of your +glory! Boy as I am in years, I have seen wave after +wave of living men sweep up the heights of battle +to their death; ay, and snatch perilous conquest +from the scales of war when the bloody crescent +seemed to shake above our eagles.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar</span> (<i>somewhat moved</i>). Those men are dead. +What have I to do with them?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> Nothing! The dead are safe; you<a name="aii_18" id="aii_18"></a><a href="#nii_18" class="anc">18</a> +cannot harm them now. They sleep their last long +sleep. Some in Turkish waters, others by the windswept +heights of Norway and the Dane! But these, +the living, our brothers, what have you done for +them? They asked you for bread, you gave them +a stone. They sought for freedom, you scourged +them with scorpions. You have sown the seeds of +this revolution yourself!—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> And are we not cutting down the +harvest?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> Oh, my brothers! better far that ye had +died in the iron hail and screaming shell of battle +than to come back to such a doom as<a name="aii_19" id="aii_19"></a><a href="#nii_19" class="anc">19</a> this! The +beasts of the forests have their lairs, and the wild +beasts their caverns, but the people of Russia, conquerors +of the world, have not where to lay their +heads.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> They have the headsman's block.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> The headsman's block! Ay! you have +killed their souls at your pleasure, you would kill +their bodies now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Insolent boy! Have you forgotten who +is Emperor of Russia?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> No! The people reign now, by the grace +of God.<a name="aii_20" id="aii_20"></a><a href="#nii_20" class="anc">20</a> You should have been their shepherd; you +have fled away like the hireling, and let the wolves in +upon them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Take him away! Take him away, Prince +Paul!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> God hath given this people tongues to +speak with; you would cut them out that they may be +dumb in their agony, silent in their torture! But +God hath given them hands to smite with, and they +shall smite! Ay! from the sick and labouring womb +of this unhappy land some revolution, like a bloody +child, shall<a name="aii_21" id="aii_21"></a><a href="#nii_21" class="anc">21</a> rise up and slay you.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar</span> (<i>leaping up</i>). Devil! Assassin! Why do +you beard me thus to my face?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> Because I<a name="aii_22" id="aii_22"></a><a href="#nii_22" class="anc">22</a> am a Nihilist! (<i>The ministers +start to their feet; there is dead silence for a few +minutes.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> A Nihilist! a Nihilist! Scorpion whom I +have nurtured, traitor whom I have fondled, is this +your bloody secret? Prince Paul Maraloffski, Marechale +of the Russian Empire, arrest the Czarevitch!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Ministers.</span> Arrest the Czarevitch!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> A Nihilist! If you have sown with them, +you shall reap with them! If you have talked with +them, you shall rot with them! If you have lived +with them, with them you shall die!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> Die!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> A plague on all sons, I say! There should +be no more marriages in Russia when one can breed +such vipers as you are! Arrest the Czarevitch, I say!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Czarevitch! by order of the Emperor, +I demand your sword. (<i><span class="smcap">Czarevitch</span> gives up +sword; <span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> places it on the table.</i>) Foolish +boy! you are not made for a conspirator; you have +not learned to hold your tongue. Heroics are out of +place in a palace.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar</span> (<i>sinks into his chair with his eyes fixed on the +<span class="smcap">Czarevitch</span></i>). O God!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> If I am to die for the people, I am ready; +one Nihilist more or less in Russia, what does that +matter?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>aside</i>). A good deal I should say +to the one Nihilist.</p> + +<p><a name="aii_23" id="aii_23"></a><a href="#nii_23" class="anc">23</a><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> The mighty brotherhood to which I +belong has a thousand such as I am, ten thousand +better still! (<i>The <span class="smcap">Czar</span> starts in his seat.</i>) The star +of freedom is risen already, and far off I hear the +mighty wave democracy break on these cursed +shores.<a href="#nii_23" class="anc">23</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>to <span class="smcap">Prince Petrovitch</span></i>). In that +case you and I had better learn how to swim.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> Father, Emperor, Imperial Master, I +plead not for my own life, but for the lives of my +brothers, the people.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>bitterly</i>). Your brothers, the people, +Prince, are not content with their own lives, they +always want to take their neighbour's too.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar</span> (<i>standing up</i>). I am sick of being afraid. I +have done with terror now. From this day I proclaim +war against the people—war to their annihilation. +As they have dealt with me, so shall I deal with +them. I shall grind them to powder, and strew their +dust upon the air. There shall be a spy in every +man's house, a traitor on every hearth, a hangman in +every village, a gibbet in every square. Plague, +leprosy, or fever shall be less deadly than my wrath; +I will make every frontier a grave-yard, every province +a lazar-house, and cure the sick by the sword. I shall +have peace in Russia, though it be the peace of the +dead. Who said I was a coward? Who said I was +afraid? See, thus shall I crush this people beneath +my feet! (<i>Takes up sword of <span class="smcap">Czarevitch</span> off table +and tramples on it.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> Father, beware, the sword you tread on +may turn and wound you. The people suffer long, +but vengeance comes at last, vengeance with red +hands and bloody purpose.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Bah! the people are bad shots; +they always miss one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> There are times when the people are +instruments of God.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Ay! and when kings are God's scourges +for the people. Oh, my own son, in my own house! +My own flesh and blood against me! Take him away! +Take him away! Bring in my guards. (<i>Enter the +Imperial Guard. <span class="smcap">Czar</span> points to <span class="smcap">Czarevitch</span>, who +stands alone at the side of the stage.</i>) To the blackest +prison in Moscow! Let me never see his face again. +(<i><span class="smcap">Czarevitch</span> is being led out.</i>) No, no, leave him! +I don't trust guards. They are all Nihilists! They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +would let him escape and he would kill me, kill +me! No, I'll bring him to prison myself, you and I +(<i>to <span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span></i>). I trust you, you have no mercy. +I shall have no mercy. Oh, my own son against me! +How hot it is! The air stifles me! I feel as if I +were going to faint, as if something were at my throat. +Open the windows, I say! Out of my sight! Out +of my sight! I can't bear his eyes. Wait, wait for +me. (<i>Throws window open and goes out on balcony.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>looking at his watch</i>). The dinner +is sure to be spoiled. How annoying politics are +and eldest sons!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Voice</span> (<i>outside, in the street</i>). God save the people! +(<i><span class="smcap">Czar</span> is shot, and staggers back into the room.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czare.</span> (<i>breaking from the guards, and rushing +over</i>). Father!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Murderer! Murderer! You did it! +Murderer! (<i>Dies.</i>)</p> + +<div class="bk3">TABLEAU.</div> + +<div class="bk3"><span class="smcap">End of Act II.</span></div> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span></p> +<h2>ACT III.</h2> + +<div class="stg2"><p class="ctr"><i>Same scene and business as Act I. Man in yellow +dress, with drawn sword, at the door.</i></p></div> + +<div class="stg1"><i>Password outside.</i> Væ tyrannis.</div> + +<div class="stg1"><i>Answer.</i> Væ victis (<i>repeated three times</i>).</div> + +<div class="stg1">(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Conspirators</span>, who form a semicircle, masked +and cloaked.</i>)</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">President.</span> What hour is it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">First Consp.</span> The hour to strike.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> What day?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Consp.</span> The day of Marat.<a name="aiii_1" id="aiii_1"></a><a href="#niii_1" class="anc">1</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> In what month?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Second Consp.</span> The month of liberty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> What is our duty?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fourth Consp.</span> To obey.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Our creed?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Fifth Consp.</span> Parbleu, Mons. le President, I +never knew you had one.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Consps.</span> A spy! A spy! Unmask! Unmask! A +spy!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> <a name="aiii_2" id="aiii_2"></a><a href="#niii_2" class="anc">2</a>Let the doors be shut. There are others +but Nihilists present.<a href="#niii_2" class="anc">2</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Consps.</span> Unmask! Unmask! <a name="aiii_3" id="aiii_3"></a><a href="#niii_3" class="anc">3</a>Kill him! kill +him!<a href="#niii_3" class="anc">3</a> (<i>Masked <span class="smcap">Conspirator</span> unmasks.</i>) Prince Paul!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Devil! Who lured you into the lion's den?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Consps.</span> Kill him! kill him!<a name="aiii_4" id="aiii_4"></a><a href="#niii_4" class="anc">4</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> En vérité, Messieurs, you are not +over-hospitable in your welcome.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Welcome! What welcome should we give +you but the dagger or the noose?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> I had no idea, really, that the +Nihilists were so exclusive. Let me assure you that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +if I had not always had an <i>entree</i> to the very best +society, and the very worst conspiracies, I could never +have been Prime Minister in Russia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> The tiger cannot change its nature, nor the +snake lose its venom; but are you turned a lover of +the people?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Mon Dieu, non, Mademoiselle! I +would much sooner talk scandal in a drawing-room +than treason in a cellar. Besides, I hate the common +mob, who smell of garlic, smoke bad tobacco, get up +early, and dine off one dish.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> What have you to gain, then, by a revolution?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Mon ami, I have nothing left to +lose. That scatter-brained boy, this new Czar, has +banished me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> To Siberia?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> No, to Paris. He has confiscated +my estates, robbed me of my office and my cook. I +have nothing left but my decorations. I am here +for revenge.<a name="aiii_5" id="aiii_5"></a><a href="#niii_5" class="anc">5</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Then you have a right to be one of us. +<a href="#niii_5" class="anc">5</a>We also meet daily for revenge.<a href="#niii_5" class="anc">5</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> You want money, of course. No +one ever joins a conspiracy who has any. Here. +(<i>Throws money on table.</i>) You have so many spies +that I should think you want information. Well, you +will find me the best informed man in Russia on the +abuses of our Government. I made them nearly all +myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> President, I don't trust this man. He has +done us too much harm in Russia to let him go in +safety.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Believe me, Mademoiselle, you +are wrong; I will be a most valuable addition to your +circle; as for you, gentlemen, if I had not thought that +you would be useful to me I shouldn't have risked my +neck among you, or dined an hour earlier than usual +so as to be in time.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Ay, if he had wanted to spy on us, Vera, he +wouldn't have come himself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>aside</i>). No; I should have sent +my best friend.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Besides, Vera, he is just the man to give +us the information we want about some business we +have in hand to-night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Be it so if you wish it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Brothers, is it your will that Prince Paul +Maraloffski be admitted, and take the oath of the +Nihilist?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Consps.</span> It is! it is!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> (<i>holding out dagger and a paper</i>). Prince +Paul, the dagger or the oath?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>smiles sardonically</i>). I would +sooner annihilate than be annihilated. (<i>Takes +paper.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Remember: <a name="aiii_6" id="aiii_6"></a><a href="#niii_6" class="anc">6</a>Betray us, and as long as +the earth holds poison or steel, as long as men can +strike or woman betray, you shall not escape vengeance.<a href="#niii_6" class="anc">6</a> +The Nihilists never forget their friends, +or forgive their enemies.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Really? I did not think you +were so civilized.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>pacing up and down</i>). Why is he not +here? He will not keep the crown. I know him +well.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Sign. (<i><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> signs</i>.) You said +you thought we had no creed. You were wrong. +Read it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> This is a dangerous thing, President. +What can we do with this man?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> We can use him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> And afterwards?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> (<i>shrugging his shoulders</i>). Strangle him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>reading</i>). "The rights of humanity!" +In the old times men carried out their +rights for themselves as they lived, but nowadays +every baby seems born with a social manifesto in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +its mouth much bigger than itself.<a name="aiii_7" id="aiii_7"></a><a href="#niii_7" class="anc">7</a> "Nature is not +a temple, but a workshop: we demand the right to +labour." Ah, I shall surrender my own rights in +that respect.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>pacing up and down behind</i>). Oh, will he +never come? will he never come?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> "The family as subversive of +true socialistic and communal unity is to be annihilated." +Yes, President, I agree completely with +Article 5. A family is a terrible incumbrance, +especially when one is not married. (<i>Three knocks +at the door.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Alexis at last!</p> + +<p><i>Password.</i> Væ tyrannis!</p> + +<p><i>Answer.</i> Væ victis!</p> + +<div class="stg1">(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Michael Stroganoff</span>.</i>)</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span><a name="aiii_8" id="aiii_8"></a><a href="#niii_8" class="anc">8</a> Michael, the regicide! Brothers, let us +do honour to a man who has killed a king.</p> + +<p><a name="aiii_9" id="aiii_9"></a><a href="#niii_9" class="anc">9</a><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>aside</i>). Oh, he will come yet.<a href="#niii_9" class="anc">9</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Michael, you have saved Russia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Ay, Russia was free for a moment +<a name="aiii_10" id="aiii_10"></a><a href="#niii_10" class="anc">10</a>when the tyrant fell, but the sun of liberty has set +again like that false dawn which cheats our eyes in +autumn.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> The dread night of tyranny is not yet +past for Russia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> (<i>clutching his knife</i>).<a href="#niii_10" class="anc">10</a> One more blow, +and the end is come indeed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>aside</i>). One more blow! What does he +mean? Oh, impossible! but why is he not with +us? Alexis! Alexis! why are you not here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> But how did you escape, Michael? They +said you had been seized.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> I was dressed in the uniform of the Imperial +Guard. The Colonel on duty was a brother, +and gave me the password. I drove through the +troops in safety with it, and, thanks to my good +horse, reached the walls before the gates were +closed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> What a chance his coming out on the +balcony was!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> A chance? There is no such thing as +chance. It was God's finger led him there.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> And where have you been these three +days?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Hiding in the house of the priest Nicholas +at the cross-roads.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Nicholas is an honest man.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Ay, honest enough for a priest. I am +here now for vengeance on a traitor!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>aside</i>). O God, will he never come? +Alexis! why are you not here? You cannot have +turned traitor!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> (<i>seeing <span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span></i>). Prince Paul Maraloffski +here! By St. George, a lucky capture! +This must have been Vera's doing. She is the +only one who could have lured that serpent into +the trap.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Prince Paul has just taken the oath.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Alexis, the Czar, has banished him from +Russia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Bah! A blind to cheat us. We will +keep Prince Paul here, <a name="aiii_11" id="aiii_11"></a><a href="#niii_11" class="anc">11</a>and find some office for +him in our reign of terror.<a href="#niii_11" class="anc">11</a> He is well accustomed +by this time to bloody work.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>approaching <span class="smcap">Michael</span></i>). That was +a long shot of yours, mon camarade.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> I have had a good deal of practice +shooting, since I have been a boy, off your Highness's +wild boars.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Are my gamekeepers like moles, +then, always asleep?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> No, Prince. I am one of them; but, +like you, I am fond of robbing what I am put to +watch.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> This must be a new atmosphere for you, +Prince Paul. We speak the truth to one another +here.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> How misleading you must find it. +You have an odd medley here, President—a little +rococo, I am afraid.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> You recognise a good many friends, I +dare say?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Yes, there is always more brass +than brains in an aristocracy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> But you are here yourself?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> I? As I cannot be Prime Minister, +I must be a Nihilist. There is no alternative.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> O God, will he never come? The hand +is on the stroke of the hour. Will he never come?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> (<i>aside</i>). President, you know what we have +to do? 'Tis but a sorry hunter who leaves the wolf +cub alive to avenge his father. How are we to get +at this boy? It must be to-night. To-morrow he +will be throwing some sop of reform to the people, +and it will be too late for a Republic.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> You are quite right. Good kings +are the enemies of Democracy, and when he has +begun by banishing me you may be sure he intends +to be a patriot.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> I am sick of patriot kings; <a name="aiii_12" id="aiii_12"></a><a href="#niii_12" class="anc">12</a>what Russia +needs is a Republic.<a href="#niii_12" class="anc">12</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Messieurs, I have brought you +two documents which I think will interest you—the +proclamation this young Czar intends publishing to-morrow, +and a plan of the Winter Palace, where +he sleeps to-night. (<i>Hands paper.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> <a name="aiii_13" id="aiii_13"></a><a href="#niii_13" class="anc">13</a>I dare not ask them what they are +plotting about.<a href="#niii_13" class="anc">13</a> Oh, why is Alexis not here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Prince, this is most valuable information. +Michael, you were right. If it is not to-night it +will be too late. Read that.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Ah! A loaf of bread flung to a starving +nation. <a name="aiii_14" id="aiii_14"></a><a href="#niii_14" class="anc">14</a>A lie to cheat the people.<a href="#niii_14" class="anc">14</a> (<i>Tears it +up.</i>) It must be to-night. I do not believe in +him. Would he have kept his crown had he loved +the people? But how are we to get at him?<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> The key of the private door in +the street. (<i>Hands key.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Prince, we are in your debt.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>smiling</i>). The normal condition of +the Nihilists.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Ay, but we are paying our debts off with +interest now. Two Emperors in one week. That +will make the balance straight. We would have +thrown in a Prime Minister if you had not come.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Ah, I am sorry you told me. It +robs my visit of all its picturesqueness and adventure. +I thought I was perilling my head by coming +here, and you tell me I have saved it. One is sure +to be disappointed if one tries to get romance out +of modern life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> It is not so romantic a thing to lose +one's head, Prince Paul.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> No, but it must often be very +dull to keep it. Don't you find that sometimes? +(<i>Clock strikes six.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>sinking into a seat</i>). Oh, it is past the +hour! It is past the hour!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> (<i>to <span class="smcap">President</span></i>). Remember to-morrow +will be too late.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Brothers, it is full time. Which of us is +absent?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Consps.</span> Alexis! Alexis!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Michael, read Rule 7.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> "When any brother shall have disobeyed +a summons to be present, the President shall enquire +if there is anything alleged against him."</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Is there anything against our brother +Alexis?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Consps.</span> He wears a crown! He wears a crown!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Michael, read Article 7 of the Code of +Revolution.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> "Between the Nihilists and all men who +wear crowns above their fellows, there is war to +the death."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Brothers, what say you? Is Alexis, the +Czar, guilty or not?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Omnes.</span> He is guilty!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> What shall the penalty be?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Omnes.</span> Death!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Let the lots be prepared; it shall be to-night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> Ah, this is really interesting! I +was getting afraid conspiracies were as dull as courts +are.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prof. Marfa.</span> My forte is more in writing +pamphlets than in taking shots. Still a regicide +has always a place in history.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> If your pistol is as harmless as your +pen, this young tyrant will have a long life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul.</span> You ought to remember, too, Professor, +that if you were seized, as you probably would +be, and hung, as you certainly would be, there would +be nobody left to read your own articles.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Brothers, are you ready?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>starting up</i>). Not yet! Not yet! I have +a word to say.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> (<i>aside</i>). <a name="aiii_15" id="aiii_15"></a><a href="#niii_15" class="anc">15</a>Plague take her! I knew it +would come to this.<a href="#niii_15" class="anc">15</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> This boy has been our brother. Night +after night he has perilled his own life to come +here. <a name="aiii_16" id="aiii_16"></a><a href="#niii_16" class="anc">16</a>Night after night, when every street was +filled with spies, every house with traitors.<a href="#niii_16" class="anc">16</a> Delicately +nurtured like a king's son, he has dwelt +among us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Ay! under a false name. <a name="aiii_17" id="aiii_17"></a><a href="#niii_17" class="anc">17</a>He lied to +us at the beginning. He lies to us now at the +end.<a href="#niii_17" class="anc">17</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> I swear he is true. There is not a man +here who does not owe him his life a thousand times. +When the bloodhounds were on us that night, who +saved us <a name="aiii_18" id="aiii_18"></a><a href="#niii_18" class="anc">18</a>from arrest, torture, flogging, death,<a href="#niii_18" class="anc">18</a> +but he ye seek to kill?—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> To kill all tyrants is our mission!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> He is no tyrant. I know him well! He +loves the people.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> We know him too; he is a traitor.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> A traitor! Three days ago he could have +betrayed every man of you here, <a name="aiii_19" id="aiii_19"></a><a href="#niii_19" class="anc">19</a>and the gibbet +would have been your doom.<a href="#niii_19" class="anc">19</a> He gave you all +your lives once. Give him a little time—a week, a +month, a few days; but not now!—O God,<a name="aiii_20" id="aiii_20"></a><a href="#niii_20" class="anc">20</a> not +now!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Consps.</span> (<i>brandishing daggers</i>). To-night! to-night! +to-night!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Peace, you gorged adders; peace!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> What, are we not here to annihilate? +shall we not keep our oath?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Your oath! your oath! <a name="aiii_21" id="aiii_21"></a><a href="#niii_21" class="anc">21</a>Greedy that +you are of gain, every man's hand lusting for his +neighbour's pelf, every heart set on pillage and +rapine;<a href="#niii_21" class="anc">21</a> who, of ye all, if the crown were set on +his head, would give an empire up for the mob to +scramble for? The people are not yet fit for a +Republic in Russia.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Every nation is fit for a Republic.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> The man is a tyrant.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> A tyrant! Hath he not dismissed his evil +counsellors. That ill-omened raven of his father's +life hath had his wings clipped and his claws pared, +and comes to us croaking for revenge. Oh, have +mercy on him!<a name="aiii_22" id="aiii_22"></a><a href="#niii_22" class="anc">22</a> Give him a week to live!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Vera pleading for a king!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>proudly</i>). I plead not for a king, but for +a brother.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> For a traitor to his oath, for a coward who +should have flung the purple back to the fools that +gave it to him. No, Vera, no. The brood of men +is not dead yet, nor the dull earth grown sick of +child-bearing. No crowned man in Russia shall +pollute God's air by living.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> You bade us try you once; we have tried +you, and you are found wanting.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Vera, I am not blind; I know your +secret. You love this boy, this young prince with +his pretty face, his curled hair, his soft white hands. +Fool that you are, dupe of a lying tongue, do you +know what he would have done to you, this boy +you think loved you? He would have made you +his mistress, used your body at his pleasure, thrown +you away when he was wearied of you; you, the +priestess of liberty, the flame of Revolution, the +torch of democracy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> What he would have done to me matters +little. To the people, at least, he will be true. He +loves the people—at least, he loves liberty.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> So he would play the citizen-king, would +he, while we starve? <a name="aiii_23" id="aiii_23"></a><a href="#niii_23" class="anc">23</a>Would flatter us with sweet +speeches, would cheat us with promises like his +father, would lie to us as his whole race have lied.<a href="#niii_23" class="anc">23</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> And you whose very name made every +despot tremble for his life, you, Vera Sabouroff, you +would betray liberty for a lover and the people for +a paramour!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Consps.</span> <a name="aiii_24" id="aiii_24"></a><a href="#niii_24" class="anc">24</a>Traitress! Draw the lots; draw the +lots!<a href="#niii_24" class="anc">24</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> In thy throat thou liest, Michael! I love +him not. He loves me not.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> You love him not? Shall he not die +then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>with an effort, clenching her hands</i>). Ay, +it is right that he should die. He hath broken his +oath. <a name="aiii_25" id="aiii_25"></a><a href="#niii_25" class="anc">25</a>There should be no crowned man in +Europe. Have I not sworn it? To be strong our +new Republic should be drunk with the blood of +kings. He hath broken his oath. As the father +died so let the son die too.<a href="#niii_25" class="anc">25</a> Yet not to-night, +not to-night. Russia, that hath borne her centuries +of wrong, can wait a week for liberty. Give him a +week.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> We will have none of you! Begone from +us to this boy you love.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Though I find him in your arms I shall +kill him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Consps.</span> To-night! To-night! To-night!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> (<i>holding up his hand</i>). A moment! I +have something to say. (<i>Approaches <span class="smcap">Vera</span>; speaks +very slowly.</i>) Vera Sabouroff, have you forgotten +your brother? (<i>Pauses to see effect; <span class="smcap">Vera</span> starts.</i>) +Have you forgotten that young face, pale with +famine; those young limbs twisted with torture; +the iron chains they made him walk in? What +week of liberty did they give him? What pity did +they show him for a day? (<i><span class="smcap">Vera</span> falls in a chair.</i>) +Oh! you could talk glibly enough then of vengeance, +glibly enough of liberty. When you said you would +come to Moscow, your old father caught you by the +knees and begged you not to leave him childless and +alone.<a name="aiii_26" id="aiii_26"></a><a href="#niii_26" class="anc">26</a> I seem to hear his cries still ringing in my +ears, but you were as deaf to him as the rocks on +the roadside; as chill and cold as the snow on +the hill. You left your father that night, and three +weeks after he died of a broken heart. You wrote +to me to follow you here. I did so; first because +I loved you; but you soon cured me of that; +whatever gentle feeling, whatever pity, whatever +humanity, was in my heart you withered up and +destroyed, as the canker worm eats the corn, and +the plague kills the child. You bade me cast out +love from my breast as a vile thing, you turned +my hand to iron, and my heart to stone; you told +me to live for freedom and for revenge. I have done +so; but you, what have you done?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Let the lots be drawn! (<i><span class="smcap">Conspirators</span> +applaud.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>aside</i>). Ah, the Grand Duke will +come to the throne sooner than he expected. He +is sure to make a good king under my guidance. +He is so cruel to animals, and never keeps his word.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Now you are yourself at last, Vera.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>standing motionless in the middle</i>). The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +lots, I say, the lots! I am no woman now. My +blood seems turned to gall; my heart is as cold as +steel is; my hand shall be more deadly. From +the desert and the tomb the voice of my prisoned +brother cries aloud, and bids me strike one blow +for liberty. The lots, I say, the lots!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Are you ready. Michael, you have the +right to draw first; you are a Regicide.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> O God, into my hands! Into my hands! +(<i>They draw the lots from a bowl surmounted by a +skull.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Open your lots.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>opening her lot</i>). The lot is mine! see +the bloody sign upon it! Dmitri, my brother, you +shall have your revenge now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Vera Sabouroff, you are chosen to be a +regicide. God has been good to you. The dagger +or the poison? (<i>Offers her dagger and vial.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> I can trust my hand better with the +dagger; it never fails. (<i>Take dagger.</i>) I shall stab +him to the heart, as he has stabbed me. Traitor, to +leave us for a ribbon, a gaud, a bauble, to lie to +me every day he came here, to forget us in an +hour. <a name="aiii_27" id="aiii_27"></a><a href="#niii_27" class="anc">27</a>Michael was right, he loved me not, nor +the people either.<a href="#niii_27" class="anc">27</a> Methinks that if I was a mother +and bore a man-child I would poison my breast to +him, lest he might grow to a traitor or to a king. +(<i><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> whispers to the <span class="smcap">President.</span></i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Ay, Prince Paul, that is the best way. +Vera, the Czar<a name="aiii_28" id="aiii_28"></a><a href="#niii_28" class="anc">28</a> sleeps to-night in his own room in +the north wing of the palace. Here is the key of +the private door in the street. The passwords of +the guards will be given to you. His own servants +will be drugged. You will find him alone.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> It is well. I shall not fail.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> We will wait outside in the Place St. +Isaac, under the window. As the clock strikes +twelve from the tower of St. Nicholas you will give +us the sign that the dog is dead.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> And what shall the sign be?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> You are to throw us out the bloody +dagger.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Dripping with the traitor's life.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Else we shall know that you have been +seized, and we will burst our way in, drag you +from his guards.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> And kill him in the midst of them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> Michael, you will head us?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> Ay, I shall head you. See that your +hand fails not, Vera Sabouroff.</p> + +<p><a name="aiii_29" id="aiii_29"></a><a href="#niii_29" class="anc">29</a><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Fool, is it so hard a thing to kill one's +enemy.<a href="#niii_29" class="anc">29</a></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Paul</span> (<i>aside</i>). This is the ninth conspiracy +I have been in in Russia. They always +end in a "voyage en Siberie" for my friends and +a new decoration for myself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Mich.</span> It is your last conspiracy, Prince.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Pres.</span> At twelve o'clock, the bloody dagger.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Ay, red with the blood of that false heart. +I shall not forget it. (<i>Standing in the middle of the +stage.</i>) <a name="aiii_30" id="aiii_30"></a><a href="#niii_30" class="anc">30</a>To strangle whatever nature is in me, neither +to love nor to be loved, neither to pity nor to be +pitied. Ay! it is an oath, an oath. Methinks the +spirit of Charlotte Corday has entered my soul now. +I shall carve my name on the world, and be ranked +among the great heroines. Ay! the spirit of +Charlotte Corday beats in each petty vein, and +nerves my woman's hand to strike, as I have +nerved my woman's heart to hate. Though he +laughs in his dreams, I shall not falter. Though +he sleep peacefully I shall not miss my blow.<a href="#niii_30" class="anc">30</a> +Be glad, my brother, in your stifled cell; be glad +and laugh to-night. To-night this new-fledged Czar +shall post with bloody feet to Hell, and greet his +father there! <a name="aiii_31" id="aiii_31"></a><a href="#niii_31" class="anc">31</a>This Czar! O traitor, liar, false to +his oath, false to me! To play the patriot amongst +us, and now to wear a crown; to sell us, like +Judas, for thirty silver pieces, to betray us with a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span> +kiss!<a href="#niii_31" class="anc">31</a> (<i>With more passion.</i>) O Liberty, O mighty +mother of eternal time, thy robe is purple with the +blood of those who have died for thee! Thy throne +is the Calvary of the people, thy crown the crown +of thorns. O crucified mother, the despot has driven +a nail through thy right hand, and the tyrant through +thy left! Thy feet are pierced with their iron. When +thou wert athirst thou calledst on the priests for +water, and they gave thee bitter drink. They thrust +a sword into thy side. They mocked thee in thine +agony of age on age. <a name="aiii_32" id="aiii_32"></a><a href="#niii_32" class="anc">32</a>Here, on thy altar, O +Liberty, do I dedicate myself to thy service; do +with me as thou wilt!<a href="#niii_32" class="anc">32</a> (<i>Brandishing dagger.</i>) +The end has come now, and by thy sacred wounds, +O crucified mother, O Liberty, I swear that Russia +shall be saved!</p> + +<div class="bk3">CURTAIN.</div> + +<div class="bk3"><span class="smcap">End Of Act III.</span></div> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span></p> +<h2>ACT IV.</h2> + +<div class="stg2"><p class="ctr"><span class="smcap">Scene.</span>—<i>Antechamber of the <span class="smcap">Czar's</span> private room. +Large window at the back, with drawn curtains +over it.</i></p> + +<p class="ctr"><i>Present.</i>—<span class="smcap">Prince Petrovitch, Baron Raff, +Marquis de Poivrard, Count Rouvaloff.</span></p></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> He is beginning well, this young +Czar.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron Raff</span> (<i>shrugs his shoulders</i>). All young +Czars do begin well.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Count R.</span> And end badly.</p> + +<p><a name="aiv_1" id="aiv_1"></a><a href="#niv_1" class="anc">1</a><span class="smcap">Marq. de Poiv.</span> Well, I have no right to complain. +He has done me one good service, at any +rate.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> Cancelled your appointment to +Archangel, I suppose?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marq. de Poiv.</span> Yes; my head wouldn't have +been safe there for an hour.<a href="#niv_1" class="anc">1</a></p> + +<div class="stg1">(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">General Kotemkin</span>.</i>)</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron Raff.</span> Ah! General, any more news of +our romantic Emperor?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Kotemk.</span> You are quite right to call him +romantic, Baron; a week ago I found him amusing +himself in a garret with a company of strolling +players; to-day his whim is all the convicts in +Siberia are to be recalled, and political prisoners, +as he calls them, amnestied.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> Political prisoners! Why, half +of them are no better than common murderers!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Count R.</span> And the other half much worse?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron Raff.</span> Oh, you wrong them, surely, +Count. Wholesale trade has always been more +respectable than retail.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Count R.</span> But he is really too romantic. He +objected yesterday to my having the monopoly of +the salt tax. He said the people had a right to +have cheap salt.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marq. de Poiv.</span> Oh, that's nothing; but he +actually disapproved of a State banquet every night +because there is a famine in the Southern provinces. +(<i>The young <span class="smcap">Czar</span> enters unobserved, and overhears +the rest.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> Quelle bétise! The more starvation +there is among the people, the better. It +teaches them self-denial, an excellent virtue, Baron, +an excellent virtue.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron Raff.</span> I have often heard so; I have +often heard so.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Kotemk.</span> He talked of a Parliament, too, +in Russia, and said the people should have deputies +to represent them.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron Raff.</span> As if there was not enough brawling +in the streets already, but we must give the +people a room to do it in. But, Messieurs, the +worst is yet to come. He threatens a complete +reform in the public service on the ground that +the people are too heavily taxed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marq. de Poiv.</span> He can't be serious there. What +is the use of the people except<a name="aiv_2" id="aiv_2"></a><a href="#niv_2" class="anc">2</a> to get money out of? +But talking of taxes, my dear Baron, you must really +let me have forty thousand roubles to-morrow? my +wife says she must have a new diamond bracelet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Count R.</span> (<i>aside to <span class="smcap">Baron Raff</span></i>). Ah, to match +the one Prince Paul gave her last week, I suppose.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> I must have sixty thousand +roubles at once, Baron. My son is overwhelmed +with debts of honour which he can't pay.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron Raff.</span> What an excellent son to imitate +his father so carefully!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Kotemk.</span> You are always getting money. I +never get a single kopeck I have not got a right +to. It's unbearable; it's ridiculous! My nephew<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +is going to be married. I must get his dowry for +him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> My dear General, your nephew +must be a perfect Turk. He seems to get married +three times a week regularly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Kot.</span> Well, he wants a dowry to console +him.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Count R.</span> I am sick of town. I want a house +in the country.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marq. de Poiv.</span> I am sick of the country. I +want a house in town.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron Raff.</span> Mes amis, I am extremely sorry +for you. It is out of the question.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> But my son, Baron?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gen. Kotemk.</span> But my nephew?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marq. de Poiv.</span> But my house in town?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Count R.</span> But my house in the country?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Marq. de Poiv.</span> But my wife's diamond bracelet?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron Raff.</span> Gentlemen, impossible! The old +<i>regime</i> in Russia is dead; the funeral begins to-day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Count R.</span> Then I shall wait for the resurrection.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> Yes, but, <i>en attendant</i>, what are +we to do?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron Raff.</span> What have we always done in +Russia when a Czar suggests reforms?—nothing. +You forget we are diplomatists. Men of thought +should have nothing to do with action. Reforms +in Russia are very tragic, but they always end in +a farce.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Count R.</span> I wish Prince Paul were here. <a name="aiv_3" id="aiv_3"></a><a href="#niv_3" class="anc">3</a>By +the bye, I think this boy is rather ungrateful to him. +If that clever old Prince had not proclaimed him +Emperor at once without giving him time to think +about it, he would have given up his crown, I +believe, to the first cobbler he met in the street.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> But do you think, Baron, that +Prince Paul is really going?<a href="#niv_3" class="anc">3</a><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron Raff.</span> He is exiled.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> Yes; but is he going?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron Raff.</span> I am sure of it; at least he told +me he had sent two telegrams already to Paris about +his dinner.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Count R.</span> Ah! that settles the matter.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar</span> (<i>coming forward</i>). Prince Paul better send a +third telegram and order (<i>counting them</i>) six extra places.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron Raff.</span> The devil!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> No, Baron, the Czar. Traitors! There +would be no bad kings in the world if there were +no bad ministers like you. It is men such as you +who wreck mighty empires on the rock of their +own greatness. Our mother, Russia, hath no need +of such unnatural sons. You can make no atonement +now; it is too late for that. The grave +cannot give back your dead, nor the gibbet your +martyrs, but I shall be more merciful to you. I +give you your lives! That is the curse I would +lay on you. But if there is a man of you found +in Moscow by to-morrow night your heads will be +off your shoulders.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron Raff.</span> You remind us wonderfully, Sire, +of your Imperial father.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> I banish you all from Russia. Your +estates are confiscated to the people. You may +carry your titles with you. Reforms in Russia, +Baron, always end in a farce. You will have a +good opportunity, Prince Petrovitch, of practising +self-denial, that excellent virtue! that excellent +virtue! So, Baron, you think a Parliament in +Russia would be merely a place for brawling. +Well, I will see that the reports of each session +are sent to you regularly.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Baron Raff.</span> Sire, you are adding another +horror to exile.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> But you will have such time for literature +now. You forget you are diplomatists. Men +of thought should have nothing to do with action.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Prince Petro.</span> Sire, we did but jest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Then I banish you for your bad jokes. +Bon voyage, Messieurs.<a name="aiv_4" id="aiv_4"></a><a href="#niv_4" class="anc">4</a> If you value your lives +you will catch the first train for Paris. (<i>Exeunt +<span class="smcap">Ministers</span>.</i>) Russia is well rid of such men as +these. They are the jackals that follow in the +lion's track. <a name="aiv_5" id="aiv_5"></a><a href="#niv_5" class="anc">5</a>They have no courage themselves, +except to pillage and rob.<a href="#niv_5" class="anc">5</a> But for these men and +for Prince Paul my father would have been a good +king, would not have died so horribly as he did +die. How strange it is, the most real parts of one's +life always seem to be a dream! The council, the +fearful law which was to kill the people, the arrest, +the cry in the courtyard, the pistol-shot, my father's +bloody hands, and then the crown! One can live +for years sometimes, without living at all, and then +all life comes crowding into a single hour. I had +no time to think. Before my father's hideous shriek +of death had died in my ears I found this crown +on my head, the purple robe around me, and heard +myself called a king. I would have given it up all +then; it seemed nothing to me then; but now, can +I give it up now? Well, Colonel, well? (<i>Enter +<span class="smcap">Colonel of the Guard</span>.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> What password does your Imperial +Majesty desire should be given to-night?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Password?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Colonel.</span> <a name="aiv_6" id="aiv_6"></a><a href="#niv_6" class="anc">6</a>For the cordon of<a href="#niv_6" class="anc">6</a> guards, Sire, on +night duty around the palace.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> You can dismiss them. I have no need +of them. (<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Colonel</span>.</i>) (<i>Goes to the crown +lying on the table.</i>) What subtle potency lies hidden +in this gaudy bauble, the crown,<a name="aiv_7" id="aiv_7"></a><a href="#niv_7" class="anc">7</a> that makes one +feel like a god when one wears it? To hold in +one's hand this little fiery coloured world, to reach +out one's arm to earth's uttermost limit, to girdle +the seas with one's hosts; this is to wear a crown! +to wear a crown! The meanest serf in Russia who +is loved is better crowned than I. How love outweighs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +the balance! How poor appears the widest +empire of this golden world when matched with +love! Pent up in this palace, with spies dogging +every step, I have heard nothing of her; I have +not seen her once since that fearful hour three +days ago, when I found myself suddenly the Czar +of this wide waste, Russia. Oh, could I see her +for a moment; tell her now the secret of my life +I have never dared utter before; tell her why I +wear this crown, when I have sworn eternal war +against all crowned men! There was a meeting +to-night. I received my summons by an unknown +hand; but how could I go? I who have broken +my oath! who have broken my oath!</p> + +<div class="stg1">(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Page</span>.</i>)</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Page.</span> It is after eleven, Sire. Shall I take the +first watch in your room to-night?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Why should you watch me, boy? The +stars are my best sentinels.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Page.</span> It was your Imperial father's wish, Sire, +never to be left alone while he slept.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> My father was troubled with bad dreams. +Go, get to your bed, boy; it is nigh on midnight, +and these late hours will spoil those red cheeks. +(<i><span class="smcap">Page</span> tries to kiss his hand.</i>) Nay, nay; we have +played together too often as children for that. +Oh, to breathe the same air as her, and not to see +her! the light seems to have gone from my life, +the sun vanished from my day.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Page.</span> Sire,—Alexis,—let me stay with<a name="aiv_8" id="aiv_8"></a><a href="#niv_8" class="anc">8</a> you +to-night! There is some danger over you; I feel +there is.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> What should I fear? I have banished all +my enemies from Russia. Set the brazier here, by +me; it is very cold, and I would sit by it for a time. +Go, boy, go; I have much to think about to-night. +(<i>Goes to back of stage, draws aside curtain. View of +Moscow by moonlight.</i>) The snow has fallen heavily +since sunset. How white and cold my city looks<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +under this pale moon! And yet, what hot and fiery +hearts beat in this icy Russia, for all its frost and +snow! Oh, to see her for a moment; to tell her +all; to tell her why I am a king! But she does +not doubt me; she said she would trust in me. +Though I have broken my oath, she will have +trust. It is very cold. Where is my cloak? I +shall sleep for an hour. Then I have ordered my +sledge, and, though I die for it, I shall see Vera +to-night. Did I not bid thee go, boy? What! +must I play the tyrant so soon? Go, go! I +cannot live without seeing her. My horses will be +here in an hour; one hour between me and love! +How heavy this charcoal fire smells. (<i>Exit the +<span class="smcap">Page.</span> Lies down on a couch beside brazier.</i>)</p> + +<div class="stg1">(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Vera</span> in a black cloak.</i>)</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Asleep! God, thou art good! Who shall +deliver him from my hands now? <a name="aiv_9" id="aiv_9"></a><a href="#niv_9" class="anc">9</a>This is he! +The democrat who would make himself a king, the +republican who hath worn a crown, the traitor who +hath lied to us. Michael was right. He loved not +the people. He loved me not.<a href="#niv_9" class="anc">9</a> (<i>Bends over him.</i>) +Oh, why should such deadly poison lie in such +sweet lips? Was there not gold enough in his hair +before, that he should tarnish it with this crown? +But my day has come now; the day of the people, +of liberty, has come! Your day, my brother, has +come! Though I have strangled whatever nature +is in me, I did not think it had been so easy to +kill. One blow and it is over, and I can wash my +hands in water afterwards, I can wash my hands +afterwards. Come, I shall save Russia. I have +sworn it. (<i>Raises dagger to strike.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar</span> (<i>staring up, seizes her by both hands</i>). Vera, +you here! My dream was no dream at all. Why +have you left me three days alone, when I most +needed you? O God, you think I am a traitor, a +liar, a king? I am, for love of you. Vera, it was +for you I broke my oath and wear my father's crown.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +I would lay at your feet this mighty Russia, which +you and I have loved so well; would give you +this earth as a footstool! set this crown on your +head. The people will love us. We will rule them +by love, as a father rules his children. There shall +be liberty in Russia for every man to think as his +heart bids him; liberty for men to speak as they +think. I have banished the wolves that preyed on +us; I have brought back your brother from Siberia; +I have opened the blackened jaws of the mine. +The courier is already on his way; within a week +Dmitri and all those with him will be back in +their own land. The people shall be free—are free +now—and you and I, Emperor and Empress of +this mighty realm, will walk among them openly, +in love. When they gave me this crown first, I +would have flung it back to them, had it not been +for you, Vera. O God! It is men's custom in +Russia to bring gifts to those they love. I said, +I will bring to the woman I love a people, an +empire, a world! Vera, it is for you, for you +alone, I kept this crown; for you alone I am a +king. Oh, I have loved you better than my oath! +Why will you not speak to me? You love me +not! You love me not! You have come to warn +me of some plot against my life. What is life +worth to me without you? (<i><span class="smcap">Conspirators</span> murmur +outside.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Oh, lost! lost! lost!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Nay, you are safe here. It wants five +hours still of dawn. To-morrow, I will lead you +forth to the whole people—</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> To-morrow—!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Will crown you with my own hands as +Empress in that great cathedral which my fathers +built.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>loosens her hands violently from him, and +starts up</i>). I am a Nihilist! I cannot wear a +crown!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar</span> (<i>falls at her feet</i>). I am no king now. I +am only a boy who has loved you better than his +honour, better than his oath. For love of the +people I would have been a patriot. For love of +you I have been a traitor. Let us go forth together, +we will live amongst the common people. I am no +king. I will toil for you like the peasant or the +serf. Oh, love me a little too! (<i><span class="smcap">Conspirators</span> +murmur outside.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>clutching dagger</i>). To strangle whatever +nature is in me, neither to love nor to be loved, +neither to pity nor—— Oh, I am a woman! God +help me, I am a woman! O Alexis! I too have +broken my oath; I am a traitor. I love. Oh, do +not speak, do not speak—(<i>kisses his lips</i>)—the first, +the last time. (<i>He clasps her in his arms; they sit +on the couch together.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> I could die now.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> What does death do in thy lips? Thy +life, thy love are enemies of death. Speak not of +death. Not yet, not yet.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> I know not why death came into my +heart. Perchance the cup of life is filled too full +of pleasure to endure. This is our wedding night.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Our wedding night!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> And if death came himself, methinks that +I could kiss his pallid mouth, and suck sweet poison +from it.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Our wedding night! Nay, nay. Death +should not sit at the feast. There is no such thing +as death.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> There shall not be for us. (<i><span class="smcap">Conspirators</span> +murmur outside.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> What is that? Did you not hear something?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Only your voice, that fowler's note which +lures my heart away like a poor bird upon the limed +twig.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Methought that some one laughed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> It was but the wind and rain; the night +is full of storm. (<i><span class="smcap">Conspirators</span> murmur outside.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> It should be so indeed. Oh, where are +your guards? where are your guards?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Where should they be but at home? I +shall not live pent round by sword and steel. The +love of a people is a king's best body-guard.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> The love of a people!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Sweet, you are safe here. Nothing can +harm you here. O love, I knew you trusted me! +You said you would have trust.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> I have had trust. O love, the past seems +but some dull grey dream from which our souls have +wakened. This is life at last.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Ay, life at last.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Our wedding night! Oh, let me drink +my fill of love to-night! Nay, sweet, not yet, not +yet. How still it is, and yet methinks the air is +full of music. It is some nightingale who, wearying +of the south, has come to sing in this bleak north +to lovers such as we. It is the nightingale. Dost +thou not hear it?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> Oh, sweet, mine ears are clogged to all +sweet sounds save thine own voice, and mine eyes +blinded to all sights but thee, else had I heard +that nightingale, and seen the golden-vestured +morning sun itself steal from its sombre east before +its time for jealousy that thou art twice as fair.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Yet would that thou hadst heard the +nightingale. Methinks that bird will never sing +again.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> It is no nightingale. 'Tis love himself +singing for very ecstasy of joy that thou art changed +into his votaress. (<i>Clock begins striking twelve.</i>) Oh, +listen, sweet, it is the lover's hour. Come, let us +stand without, and hear the midnight answered +from tower to tower over the wide white town. Our +wedding night! What is that? What is that?</p> + +<div class="stg1">(<i>Loud murmurs of <span class="smcap">Conspirators</span> in the street.</i>)<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span></div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>breaks from him and rushes across the stage</i>). +The wedding guests are here already! Ay, you shall +have your sign! (<i>Stabs herself.</i>) You shall have +your sign! (<i>Rushes to the window.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar</span> (<i>intercepts her by rushing between her and +window, and snatches dagger out of her hand</i>). Vera!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera</span> (<i>clinging to him</i>). Give me back the +dagger! Give me back the dagger! There are men +in the street who seek your life! Your guards have +betrayed you! This bloody dagger is the signal that +you are dead. (<i><span class="smcap">Conspirators</span> begin to shout below in +the street.</i>) Oh, there is not a moment to be lost! +Throw it out! Throw it out! Nothing can save me +now; this dagger is poisoned! I feel death already +in my heart.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar</span> (<i>holding dagger out of her reach</i>). Death is +in my heart too; we shall die together.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Oh, love! love! love! be merciful to me! +The wolves are hot upon you! you must live for +liberty, for Russia, for me! Oh, you do not love +me! You offered me an empire once! Give me +this dagger now! Oh, you are cruel! My life for +yours! What does it matter? (<i>Loud shouts in the +street, "<span class="smcap">Vera! Vera!</span> To the rescue! To the +rescue!</i>")</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> The bitterness of death is past for me.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Oh, they are breaking in below! See! +The bloody man behind you! (<i><span class="smcap">Czarevitch</span> turns +round for an instant.</i>) Ah! (<i><span class="smcap">Vera</span> snatches dagger +and flings it out of window.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Consps.</span> (<i>below</i>). Long live the people!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Czar.</span> What have you done?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Vera.</span> I have saved Russia (<i>Dies.</i>)</p> + +<p class="bk3">TABLEAU.</p> + +<hr /><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span></p> +<h2>CORRECTIONS AND ADDITIONS.</h2> + +<div class="stg2"><p class="ctr"><span class="smcap">Made by the Author in his original copy</span>.</p></div> + +<div class="stg1"><i>The numbers of the "Notes" correspond with the superior +figures in the body of the text.</i></div> + +<div class='ctr'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="1" cellspacing="0" summary=""> + +<tr><td class="td3" colspan="3">ACT I.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Note</td><td class="td2"><a name="ni_1" id="ni_1"></a><a href="#ai_1">1</a></td><td class="td1">Changed to 2 in violet pencil.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_2" id="ni_2"></a><a href="#ai_2">2</a></td><td class="td1">Lines from 2 to 2 scored out.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_3" id="ni_3"></a><a href="#ai_3">3</a></td><td class="td1">These lines scored out, and "we will have" added.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_4" id="ni_4"></a><a href="#ai_4">4</a></td><td class="td1">This word underlined.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_5" id="ni_5"></a><a href="#ai_5">5</a></td><td class="td1">These lines scored out.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_6" id="ni_6"></a><a href="#ai_6">6</a></td><td class="td1">These lines scored out, "what news to-night?" inserted.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_7" id="ni_7"></a><a href="#ai_7">7</a></td><td class="td1">Lines scored out.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_8" id="ni_8"></a><a href="#ai_8">8</a></td><td class="td1">Altered to "He."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_9" id="ni_9"></a><a href="#ai_9">9</a></td><td class="td1">Lines scored out.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_10" id="ni_10"></a><a href="#ai_10">10</a></td><td class="td1">Altered to "signal for."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_11" id="ni_11"></a><a href="#ai_11">11</a></td><td class="td1">Lines scored out.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_12" id="ni_12"></a><a href="#ai_12">12</a></td><td class="td1">Lines scored out.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_13" id="ni_13"></a><a href="#ai_13">13</a></td><td class="td1">Altered to "Be calm, Michael!"</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_14" id="ni_14"></a><a href="#ai_14">14</a></td><td class="td1">These words underlined.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_15" id="ni_15"></a><a href="#ai_15">15</a></td><td class="td1">Words underlined.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_16" id="ni_16"></a><a href="#ai_16">16</a></td><td class="td1">Word underlined.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_17" id="ni_17"></a><a href="#ai_17">17</a></td><td class="td1">Lines scored out.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_18" id="ni_18"></a><a href="#ai_18">18</a></td><td class="td1">Words scored out.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_19" id="ni_19"></a><a href="#ai_19">19</a></td><td class="td1">Lines scored out, "from Berlin" inserted.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_20" id="ni_20"></a><a href="#ai_20">20</a></td><td class="td1">Word scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_21" id="ni_21"></a><a href="#ai_21">21</a></td><td class="td1">Altered to "strong."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_22" id="ni_22"></a><a href="#ai_22">22</a></td><td class="td1">These lines scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_23" id="ni_23"></a><a href="#ai_23">23</a></td><td class="td1">Scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_24" id="ni_24"></a><a href="#ai_24">24</a></td><td class="td1">Altered to "martial law scheme."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_25" id="ni_25"></a><a href="#ai_25">25</a></td><td class="td1">Altered to "To raise the barricades."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_26" id="ni_26"></a><a href="#ai_26">26</a></td><td class="td1">Crossed out.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_27" id="ni_27"></a><a href="#ai_27">27</a></td><td class="td1">The word "pause" as a stage direction inserted.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_28" id="ni_28"></a><a href="#ai_28">28</a></td><td class="td1">Lines crossed out.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_29" id="ni_29"></a><a href="#ai_29">29</a></td><td class="td1">Scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_30" id="ni_30"></a><a href="#ai_30">30</a></td><td class="td1">Scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_31" id="ni_31"></a><a href="#ai_31">31</a></td><td class="td1">Word underlined.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_32" id="ni_32"></a><a href="#ai_32">32</a></td><td class="td1">Word underlined.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_33" id="ni_33"></a><a href="#ai_33">33</a></td><td class="td1">Words "Who is there?" inserted.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_34" id="ni_34"></a><a href="#ai_34">34</a></td><td class="td1">Scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_35" id="ni_35"></a><a href="#ai_35">35</a></td><td class="td1">Scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_36" id="ni_36"></a><a href="#ai_36">36</a></td><td class="td1">Scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_37" id="ni_37"></a><a href="#ai_37">37</a></td><td class="td1">Altered to "He has sold us."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="ni_38" id="ni_38"></a><a href="#ai_38">38</a></td><td class="td1">Word underlined.</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="td3" colspan="3">ACT II.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Note</td><td class="td2"><a name="nii_1" id="nii_1"></a><a href="#aii_1">1</a></td><td class="td1">Lines scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_2" id="nii_2"></a><a href="#aii_2">2</a></td><td class="td1">Altered to "you missed."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_3" id="nii_3"></a><a href="#aii_3">3</a></td><td class="td1">Altered to "profession."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_4" id="nii_4"></a><a href="#aii_4">4</a></td><td class="td1">Scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_5" id="nii_5"></a><a href="#aii_5">5</a></td><td class="td1">Word scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_6" id="nii_6"></a><a href="#aii_6">6</a></td><td class="td1">Insert "for them to go to."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_7" id="nii_7"></a><a href="#aii_7">7</a></td><td class="td1">Insert "dining."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_8" id="nii_8"></a><a href="#aii_8">8</a></td><td class="td1">Altered to "bored to death."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_9" id="nii_9"></a><a href="#aii_9">9</a></td><td class="td1">Scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_10" id="nii_10"></a><a href="#aii_10">10</a></td><td class="td1">Word underlined.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_11" id="nii_11"></a><a href="#aii_11">11</a></td><td class="td1">Altered to "a."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_12" id="nii_12"></a><a href="#aii_12">12</a></td><td class="td1">Lines scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_13" id="nii_13"></a><a href="#aii_13">13</a></td><td class="td1">"O God!" scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_14" id="nii_14"></a><a href="#aii_14">14</a></td><td class="td1">Scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_15" id="nii_15"></a><a href="#aii_15">15</a></td><td class="td1">Lines scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_16" id="nii_16"></a><a href="#aii_16">16</a></td><td class="td1">Words scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_17" id="nii_17"></a><a href="#aii_17">17</a></td><td class="td1">Word underlined.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_18" id="nii_18"></a><a href="#aii_18">18</a></td><td class="td1">Word underlined.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_19" id="nii_19"></a><a href="#aii_19">19</a></td><td class="td1">Words underlined.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_20" id="nii_20"></a><a href="#aii_20">20</a></td><td class="td1">Stage direction, "a pause" indicated.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_21" id="nii_21"></a><a href="#aii_21">21</a></td><td class="td1">Altered to "may."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_22" id="nii_22"></a><a href="#aii_22">22</a></td><td class="td1">Word "I" underlined.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="nii_23" id="nii_23"></a><a href="#aii_23">23</a></td><td class="td1">This speech cut out.</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="td3" colspan="3">ACT III.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Note</td><td class="td2"><a name="niii_1" id="niii_1"></a><a href="#aiii_1">1</a></td><td class="td1">"Marat" underlined.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_2" id="niii_2"></a><a href="#aiii_2">2</a></td><td class="td1">Altered to "<span class="smcap">Vera.</span> Unmask! a spy!"</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_3" id="niii_3"></a><a href="#aiii_3">3</a></td><td class="td1">Scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_4" id="niii_4"></a><a href="#aiii_4">4</a></td><td class="td1">Scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_5" id="niii_5"></a><a href="#aiii_5">5</a></td><td class="td1">Scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_6" id="niii_6"></a><a href="#aiii_6">6</a></td><td class="td1">Lines scored through.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span></td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_7" id="niii_7"></a><a href="#aiii_7">7</a></td><td class="td1">Insert "and quite as unintelligible."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_8" id="niii_8"></a><a href="#aiii_8">8</a></td><td class="td1">Alter "<span class="smcap">Pres.</span>" to "<span class="smcap">Vera.</span>"</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_9" id="niii_9"></a><a href="#aiii_9">9</a></td><td class="td1">Scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_10" id="niii_10"></a><a href="#aiii_10">10</a></td><td class="td1">These lines struck out.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_11" id="niii_11"></a><a href="#aiii_11">11</a></td><td class="td1">This passage scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_12" id="niii_12"></a><a href="#aiii_12">12</a></td><td class="td1">This is struck out.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_13" id="niii_13"></a><a href="#aiii_13">13</a></td><td class="td1">Scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_14" id="niii_14"></a><a href="#aiii_14">14</a></td><td class="td1">Scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_15" id="niii_15"></a><a href="#aiii_15">15</a></td><td class="td1">This speech cut out.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_16" id="niii_16"></a><a href="#aiii_16">16</a></td><td class="td1">Lines scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_17" id="niii_17"></a><a href="#aiii_17">17</a></td><td class="td1">Lines scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_18" id="niii_18"></a><a href="#aiii_18">18</a></td><td class="td1">Cut out this passage and insert "Alexis" after "but."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_19" id="niii_19"></a><a href="#aiii_19">19</a></td><td class="td1">Lines scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_20" id="niii_20"></a><a href="#aiii_20">20</a></td><td class="td1">Altered to "No! No!"</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_21" id="niii_21"></a><a href="#aiii_21">21</a></td><td class="td1">This passage is cut out.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_22" id="niii_22"></a><a href="#aiii_22">22</a></td><td class="td1">Insert "Alexis" in place of "him."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_23" id="niii_23"></a><a href="#aiii_23">23</a></td><td class="td1">Lines scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_24" id="niii_24"></a><a href="#aiii_24">24</a></td><td class="td1">This speech cut out.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_25" id="niii_25"></a><a href="#aiii_25">25</a></td><td class="td1">This passage is scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_26" id="niii_26"></a><a href="#aiii_26">26</a></td><td class="td1">The words "no laugh" are inserted here—possibly as a stage direction.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_27" id="niii_27"></a><a href="#aiii_27">27</a></td><td class="td1">Passage scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_28" id="niii_28"></a><a href="#aiii_28">28</a></td><td class="td1">In place of "the Czar" read "Alexis."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_29" id="niii_29"></a><a href="#aiii_29">29</a></td><td class="td1">Delete this speech.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_30" id="niii_30"></a><a href="#aiii_30">30</a></td><td class="td1">This passage is scored out.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_31" id="niii_31"></a><a href="#aiii_31">31</a></td><td class="td1">This passage is scored out.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niii_32" id="niii_32"></a><a href="#aiii_32">32</a></td><td class="td1">This passage is scored out.</td></tr> + +<tr><td class="td3" colspan="3">ACT IV.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td1">Note</td><td class="td2"><a name="niv_1" id="niv_1"></a><a href="#aiv_1">1</a></td><td class="td1">These three speeches are scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niv_2" id="niv_2"></a><a href="#aiv_2">2</a></td><td class="td1">Insert "for the politician."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niv_3" id="niv_3"></a><a href="#aiv_3">3</a></td><td class="td1">All these lines are cut out.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niv_4" id="niv_4"></a><a href="#aiv_4">4</a></td><td class="td1">Alter to "Gentlemen."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niv_5" id="niv_5"></a><a href="#aiv_5">5</a></td><td class="td1">Cut out this sentence.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niv_6" id="niv_6"></a><a href="#aiv_6">6</a></td><td class="td1">Words scored through.</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niv_7" id="niv_7"></a><a href="#aiv_7">7</a></td><td class="td1">Delete "the crown."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niv_8" id="niv_8"></a><a href="#aiv_8">8</a></td><td class="td1">Substitute "stop near" for "stay with."</td></tr> +<tr><td class="td2" colspan="2"><a name="niv_9" id="niv_9"></a><a href="#aiv_9">9</a></td><td class="td1">This passage is cut out.</td></tr> +</table></div> + +<div class="trn"><p><b>Transcriber's Note (Significant Amendments):</b></p> +<ul><li>p. <a href="#Page_25">25</a>, 'Place S. Isaac' amended to <i>Place St. Isaac</i>;</li> +<li>p. <a href="#Page_36">36</a>, 'Prince Petouchof' amended to <i>Count Petouchof</i>.</li></ul></div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Vera, by Oscar Wilde + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK VERA *** + +***** This file should be named 26494-h.htm or 26494-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/6/4/9/26494/ + +Produced by Meredith Bach, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This +file was produced from images generously made available +by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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