Delphi Complete Works of Oscar Wilde (Illustrated) (5 page)

Voice.
Open in the name of the Emperor!

Pres.
Brothers, be masked all of you.
Michael, open the door. It is our only chance.

(
Enter
General Kotemkin
and soldiers.
)

Gen.
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?

Mich.
Ay, you have spoiled every honest
wall in
Moscow
with it.

Vera.
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.

Gen.
But I heard loud voices before I entered. What was that?

Vera.
We were rehearsing a new tragedy.

Gen.
Your answers are too
honest
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.

Pres.
O God! if he sees it is Vera, we are all lost!

Gen.
No coquetting, my girl. Come, unmask, I say, or I shall tell my guards to do it for you.

Alex.
Stand back, I say, General Kotemkin!

Gen.
Who are you, fellow, that talk with such a tripping tongue to your betters? (
Alexis
takes his mask off
.) His Imperial Highness the Czarevitch!

Omnes.
The Czarevitch!
It is all over!

Pres.
He will give us up to the soldiers.

Mich.
(
to
Vera
). Why did you not let me kill him? Come, we must fight to the death for it.

Vera.
Peace! he will not betray us.

Alex.
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.

Gen.
But, your Highness —

Alex.
Oh, they are excellent actors, I assure you. If you had come in ten minutes ago, you would have witnessed a most interesting scene.

Gen.
Actors, are they, Prince?

Alex.
Ay, and very ambitious actors, too. They only care to play before kings.

Gen.
I’ faith, your Highness, I was in hopes I had made a good haul of Nihilists.

Alex.
Nihilists in Moscow, General! with you as head of the police? Impossible!

Gen.
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.

Alex.
She is a dangerous woman, then, this Vera Sabouroff?

Gen.
The most dangerous in all Europe.

Alex.
Did you ever see her, General?

Gen.
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.

Alex.
How did you let her go, General?

Gen.
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.

Alex.
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.

Gen.
Yes; but I should like to see their faces, your Highness.

Alex.
No, General; you must not ask that; you know how these gipsies hate to be stared at.

Gen.
Yes. But, your Highness —

Alex.
(
haughtily
). General, they are my friends, that is enough. And, General, not a word of this little adventure here, you understand. I shall rely on you.

Gen.
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.

Alex.
I shall be there; but I shall return alone. Remember, not a word about my strolling players.

Gen.
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.

Alex.
Good night, General.

(
Exit
General
and the soldiers.
)

Vera
(
throwing off her mask
). Saved! and by you!

Alex.
(
clasping her hand
). Brothers, you trust me now?

TABLEAU.

End of Act I.

ACT II
.

Scene.
—
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.

Present.
—
Prince Paul Maraloffski, Prince Petrovitch, Count Rouvaloff, Baron Raff, Count Petouchof.

Prince Petro.
So our young scatter-brained Czarevitch has been forgiven at last, and is to take his seat here again.

Prince Paul.
Yes; if that is not meant as an extra punishment. For my own part, at least, I find these Cabinet Councils extremely exhausting.

Prince Petro.
Naturally; you are always speaking.

Prince Paul.
No; I think it must be that I have to listen sometimes.

Count R.
Still, anything is better than being kept in a sort of prison, like he was — never allowed to go out into the world.

Prince Paul.
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. (
Enter the
Czarevitch
. The courtiers rise.
) Ah! good afternoon, Prince. Your Highness is looking a little pale to-day.

Czare.
(
slowly, after a pause
). I want change of air.

Prince Paul
(
smiling
). A most revolutionary sentiment! Your Imperial father would highly disapprove of any reforms with the thermometer in Russia.

Czare.
(
bitterly
). 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.

Prince Paul.
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.

Czare.
Easy to die well! A lesson experience cannot have taught you, whatever you may know of a bad life.

Prince Paul
(
shrugging his shoulders
). Experience, the name men give to their mistakes. I never commit any.

Czare.
(
bitterly
). No; crimes are more in your line.

Prince Petro.
(
to the
Czarevitch
). The Emperor was a good deal agitated about your late appearance at the ball last night, Prince.

Count R.
(
laughing
).
I believe he thought the Nihilists had broken into the palace and carried you off.

Baron Raff.
If they had you would have missed a charming dance.

Prince Paul.
And
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.

Baron Raff.
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.

Prince Paul.
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.

Czare.
You have certainly missed your
metier
,
Prince Paul; the
cordon bleu
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.

Prince Paul
(
bowing
). Que voulez vous? I manage your father’s business.

Czare.
(
bitterly
). 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!

(
The courtiers look significantly at each other.
)

Prince Paul
(
calmly
). I see your Highness does want change of air. But I have been an eldest son myself. (
Lights a cigarette.
) I know what it is when a father won’t die to please one.

(
The
Czarevitch
goes to the top of the stage, and leans against the window, looking out.
)

Prince Petro.
(
to
Baron Raff
). Foolish boy!
He will be sent into exile, or worse, if he is not careful.

Baron Raff.
Yes.
What a mistake it is to be sincere!

Prince Petro.
The only folly you have never committed, Baron.

Baron Raff.
One has only one head, you know, Prince.

Prince Paul.
My dear Baron, your head is the last thing any one would wish to take from you. (
Pulls out snuffbox and offers it to
Prince Petrovitch
.
)

Prince Petro.
Thanks, Prince! Thanks!

Prince Paul.
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. (
Enter the
Marquis de Poivrard
.
) Ah! Marquis. I trust Madame la Marquise is well.

Marquis de P.
You ought to know better than I do, Prince Paul; you see more
of
her.

Prince Paul
(
bowing
). Perhaps I see more
in
her, Marquis. Your wife is really a charming woman, so full of
esprit
, and so satirical too; she talks continually of you when we are together.

Prince Petro.
(
looking at the clock
). His Majesty is a little late to-day, is he not?

Prince Paul.
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.

Prince Petro.
I fear I wouldn’t be so fortunate as that. You forget I would still have my purse.
But you are wrong for once; my chef and I are on excellent
terms.

Prince Paul.
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.

Prince Petro.
Wrong again, Prince; the Nihilists leave me alone for some reason or other.

Prince Paul
(
aside
). Ah! true. I forgot. Indifference is the revenge the world takes on mediocrities.

Prince Petro.
I am bored with life,
Prince. Since the opera season ended I have been a perpetual martyr to ennui.

Prince Paul.
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.

Baron R.
Prince, I have been thinking a good deal lately —

Prince Paul
(
interrupting
). You surprise me very much, Baron.

Baron R.
I cannot understand your nature.

Prince Paul
(
smiling
). 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.

Count R.
There seems to be nothing in life about which you would not jest.

Prince Paul.
Ah! my dear Count, life is much too important a thing ever to talk seriously about it.

Czare.
(
coming back from the window
). 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.

Prince Paul.
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.

Czare.
(
bitterly
). If to have enemies is a measure of greatness, then you must be a Colossus, indeed, Prince.

Prince Paul.
Yes, I know I’m the most hated man in
Russia
, except your father,
except your father, of course,
Prince. He doesn’t seem to like it much, by the way, but I do, I assure you. (
Bitterly.
) 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.

Czare.
And after death?

Prince Paul
(
shrugging his shoulders
). Heaven is a despotism. I shall be at home there.

Czare.
Do you never think of the people and their rights?

Prince Paul.
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.

Czare.
(
excitedly
). If they are
common, illiterate, vulgar, no better than the beasts of the field, who made them so?

(
Enter
Aide-de-Camp
.
)

Aide-de-Camp.
His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor! (
Prince Paul
looks at the
Czarevitch
, and smiles.
)

(
Enter the
Czar
, surrounded by his guard.
)

Czare.
(
rushing forward to meet him
). Sire!

Czar
(
nervous and frightened
). 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!

Prince Paul.
Sire, you are anticipating history. This is Count Petouchof, your new ambassador to Berlin. He is come to kiss hands on his appointment.

Czar.
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.

(
Prince Paul
signs to
Count Petouchof
to leave the room. Exit
Petouchof
and the guards.
Czar
sinks down into his chair. The courtiers remain silent.
)