LITMIR.BIZ

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father so carefully!

      Gen. Kotemk. 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 is going to be married. I must get his dowry for him.

      Prince Petro. My dear General, your nephew must be a perfect Turk. He seems to get married three times a week regularly.

      Gen. Kot. Well, he wants a dowry to console him.

      Count R. I am sick of town. I want a house in the country.

      Marq. de Poiv. I am sick of the country. I want a house in town.

      Baron Raff. Mes amis, I am extremely sorry for you. It is out of the question.

      Prince Petro. But my son, Baron?

      Gen. Kotemk. But my nephew?

      Marq. de Poiv. But my house in town?

      Count R. But my house in the country?

      Marq. de Poiv. But my wife’s diamond bracelet?

      Baron Raff. Gentlemen, impossible! The old regime in Russia is dead; the funeral begins to-day.

      Count R. Then I shall wait for the resurrection.

      Prince Petro. Yes, but, en attendant, what are we to do?

      Baron Raff. 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.

      Count R. I wish Prince Paul were here. 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.

      Prince Petro. But do you think, Baron, that Prince Paul is really going?

      Baron Raff. He is exiled.

      Prince Petro. Yes; but is he going?

      Baron Raff. I am sure of it; at least he told me he had sent two telegrams already to Paris about his dinner.

      Count R. Ah! that settles the matter.

      Czar (coming forward). Prince Paul better send a third telegram and order (counting them) six extra places.

      Baron Raff. The devil!

      Czar. 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 tomorrow night your heads will be off your shoulders.

      Baron Raff. You remind us wonderfully, Sire, of your Imperial father.

      Czar. 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.

      Baron Raff. Sire, you are adding another horror to exile.

      Czar. But you will have such time for literature now. You forget you are diplomatists. Men of thought should have nothing to do with action.

      Prince Petro. Sire, we did but jest.

      Czar. Then I banish you for your bad jokes. Bon voyage, Messieurs. If you value your lives you will catch the first train for Paris. (They have no courage themselves, except to pillage and rob. 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? (Exeunt Ministers.) Russia is well rid of such men as these. They are the jackals that follow in the lion’s track. Enter Colonel of the Guard.)

      Colonel. What password does your Imperial Majesty desire should be given tonight?

      Czar. Password?

      Colonel. For the cordon of guards, Sire, on night duty around the palace.

      Czar. You can dismiss them. I have no need of them. (Exit Colonel.) (Goes to the crown lying on the table.) What subtle potency lies hidden in this gaudy bauble, the crown, 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 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 tonight. I received my summons by an unknown hand; but how could I go? I who have broken my oath! who have broken my oath!

      (Enter Page.) Page. It is after eleven, Sire. Shall I take the first watch in your room tonight?

      Czar. Why should you watch me, boy? The stars are my best sentinels.

      Page. It was your Imperial father’s wish, Sire, never to be left alone while he slept.

      Czar. 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. (Page tries to kiss his hand.) 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.

      Page. Sire, — Alexis, — let me stay with you tonight! There is some danger over you; I feel there is.

      Czar. 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 tonight. (Goes to back of stage, draws aside curtain. View of Moscow by moonlight.) The snow has fallen heavily since sunset. How white and cold my city looks 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 tonight. 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. (Exit the Page. Lies down on a couch beside brazier.)

      (Enter Vera in a black cloak.) Vera. Asleep! God, thou art good! Who shall deliver him from my hands now? 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. (Bends over him.) Oh, why should

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