arms and the man-第6节

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ACT　II

　　　　The　sixth　of　March；　1886。　In　the　garden　of　major
　　　　Petkoff's　house。　It　is　a　fine　spring　morning；　and
　　　　the　garden　looks　fresh　and　pretty。　Beyond　the
　　　　paling　the　tops　of　a　couple　of　minarets　can　he
　　　　seen；　shewing　that　there　it　a　valley　there；　with
　　　　the　little　town　in　it。　A　few　miles　further　the
　　　　Balkan　mountains　rise　and　shut　in　the　view。　Within
　　　　the　garden　the　side　of　the　house　is　seen　on　the
　　　　right；　with　a　garden　door　reached　by　a　little
　　　　flight　of　steps。　On　the　left　the　stable　yard；　with
　　　　its　gateway；　encroaches　on　the　garden。　There　are
　　　　fruit　bushes　along　the　paling　and　house；　covered
　　　　with　washing　hung　out　to　dry。　A　path　runs　by　the
　　　　house；　and　rises　by　two　steps　at　the　corner　where
　　　　it　turns　out　of　the　right　along　the　front。　In　the
　　　　middle　a　small　table；　with　two　bent　wood　chairs　at
　　　　it；　is　laid　for　breakfast　with　Turkish　coffee　pot；
　　　　cups；　rolls；　etc。；　but　the　cups　have　been　used　and
　　　　the　bread　broken。　There　is　a　wooden　garden　seat
　　　　against　the　wall　on　the　left。

　　　　Louka；　smoking　a　cigaret；　is　standing　between　the
　　　　table　and　the　house；　turning　her　back　with　angry
　　　　disdain　on　a　man…servant　who　is　lecturing　her。　He
　　　　is　a　middle…aged　man　of　cool　temperament　and　low
　　　　but　clear　and　keen　intelligence；　with　the
　　　　complacency　of　the　servant　who　values　himself　on
　　　　his　rank　in　servility；　and　the　imperturbability　of
　　　　the　accurate　calculator　who　has　no　illusions。　He
　　　　wears　a　white　Bulgarian　costume　jacket　with
　　　　decorated　harder；　sash；　wide　knickerbockers；　and
　　　　decorated　gaiters。　His　head　is　shaved　up　to　the
　　　　crown；　giving　him　a　high　Japanese　forehead。　His
　　　　name　is　Nicola。
　
NICOLA。　Be　warned　in　time；　Louka：　mend　your　manners。　I　know　the
mistress。　She　is　so　grand　that　she　never　dreams　that　any　servant
could　dare　to　be　disrespectful　to　her；　but　if　she　once　suspects
that　you　are　defying　her；　out　you　go。

LOUKA。　I　do　defy　her。　I　will　defy　her。　What　do　I　care　for　her？

NICOLA。　If　you　quarrel　with　the　family；　I　never　can　marry　you。
It's　the　same　as　if　you　quarrelled　with　me！

LOUKA。　You　take　her　part　against　me；　do　you？

NICOLA　（sedately）。　I　shall　always　be　dependent　on　the　good　will
of　the　family。　When　I　leave　their　service　and　start　a　shop　in
Sofea；　their　custom　will　be　half　my　capital：　their　bad　word
would　ruin　me。

LOUKA。　You　have　no　spirit。　I　should　like　to　see　them　dare　say　a
word　against　me！

NICOLA　（pityingly）。　I　should　have　expected　more　sense　from　you；
Louka。　But　you're　young；　you're　young！

LOUKA。　Yes；　and　you　like　me　the　better　for　it；　don't　you？　But　I
know　some　family　secrets　they　wouldn't　care　to　have　told；　young
as　I　am。　Let　them　quarrel　with　me　if　they　dare！

NICOLA　（with　compassionate　superiority）。　Do　you　know　what　they
would　do　if　they　heard　you　talk　like　that？

LOUKA。　What　could　they　do？

NICOLA。　Discharge　you　for　untruthfulness。　Who　would　believe　any
stories　you　told　after　that？　Who　would　give　you　another
situation？　Who　in　this　house　would　dare　be　seen　speaking　to　you
ever　again？　How　long　would　your　father　be　left　on　his　little
farm？　（She　impatiently　throws　away　the　end　of　her　cigaret；　and
stamps　on　it。）　Child；　you　don't　know　the　power　such　high　people
have　over　the　like　of　you　and　me　when　we　try　to　rise　out　of　our
poverty　against　them。　（He　goes　close　to　her　and　lowers　his
voice。）　Look　at　me；　ten　years　in　their　service。　Do　you　think　I
know　no　secrets？　I　know　things　about　the　mistress　that　she
wouldn't　have　the　master　know　for　a　thousand　levas。　I　know
things　about　him　that　she　wouldn't　let　him　hear　the　last　of　for
six　months　if　I　blabbed　them　to　her。　I　know　things　about　Raina
that　would　break　off　her　match　with　Sergius　if

LOUKA　（turning　on　him　quickly）。　How　do　you　know？　I　never　told
you！

NICOLA　（opening　his　eyes　cunningly）。　So　that's　your　little
secret；　is　it？　I　thought　it　might　be　something　like　that。　Well；
you　take　my　advice；　and　be　respectful；　and　make　the　mistress
feel　that　no　matter　what　you　know　or　don't　know；　they　can　depend
on　you　to　hold　your　tongue　and　serve　the　family　faithfully。
That's　what　they　like；　and　that's　how　you'll　make　most　out　of
them。

LOUKA　（with　searching　scorn）。　You　have　the　soul　of　a　servant；
Nicola。

NICOLA　（complacently）。　Yes：　that's　the　secret　of　success　in
service。

　　　　（A　loud　knocking　with　a　whip　handle　on　a　wooden　
　　　　　door；　outside　on　the　left；　is　heard。）

MALE　VOICE　OUTSIDE。　Hollo！　Hollo　there！　Nicola！

LOUKA。　Master！　back　from　the　war！

NICOLA　（quickly）。　My　word　for　it；　Louka；　the　war's　over。　Off
with　you　and　get　some　fresh　coffee。　（He　runs　out　into　the　stable
yard。）

LOUKA　（as　she　puts　the　coffee　pot　and　the　cups　upon　the　tray；
and　carries　it　into　the　house）。　You'll　never　put　the　soul　of　a
servant　into　me。

　　　（Major　Petkoff　comes　from　the　stable　yard；
　　　　followed　by　Nicola。　He　is　a　cheerful；　excitable；
　　　　insignificant；　unpolished　man　of　about　50；
　　　　naturally　unambitious　except　as　to　his　income　and
　　　　his　importance　in　local　society；　but　just　now
　　　　greatly　pleased　with　the　military　rank　which　the
　　　　war　has　thrust　on　him　as　a　man　of　consequence　in
　　　　his　town。　The　fever　of　plucky　patriotism　which　the
　　　　Servian　attack　roused　in　all　the　Bulgarians　has
　　　　pulled　him　through　the　war；　but　he　is　obviously
　　　　glad　to　be　home　again。）

PETKOFF　（pointing　to　the　table　with　his　whip）。　Breakfast　out
here；　eh？

NICOLA。　Yes；　sir。　The　mistress　and　Miss　Raina　have　just　gone　in。

PETKOFF　（fitting　down　and　taking　a　roll）。　Go　in　and　say　I've
come；　and　get　me　some　fresh　coffee。

NICOLA。　It's　coming；　sir。　（He　goes　to　the　house　door。　Louka；
with　fresh　coffee；　a　clean　cup；　and　a　brandy　bottle　on　her　tray
meets　him。）　Have　you　told　the　mistress？

LOUKA。　Yes：　she's　coming。

　　　　（Nicola　goes　into　the　house。　Louka　brings　the
　　　　　coffee　to　the　table。）

PETKOFF。　Well；　the　Servians　haven't　run　away　with　you；　have
they？

LOUKA。　No；　sir。

PETKOFF。　That's　right。　Have　you　brought　me　some　cognac？

LOUKA　（putting　the　bottle　on　the　table）。　Here；　sir。

PETKOFF。　That's　right。　（He　pours　some　into　his　coffee。）

　　　（Catherine　who　has　at　this　early　hour　made　only　a
　　　　very　perfunctory　toilet；　and　wears　a　Bulgarian
　　　　apron　over　a　once　brilliant；　but　now　half　worn　out
　　　　red　dressing　gown；　and　a　colored　handkerchief　tied
　　　　over　her　thick　black　hair；　with　Turkish　slippers
　　　　on　her　bare　feet；　comes　from　the　house；　looking
　　　　astonishingly　handsome　and　stately　under　all　the
　　　　circumstances。　Louka　goes　into　the　house。）

CATHERINE。　My　dear　Paul；　what　a　surprise　for　us。　（She　stoops
over　the　back　of　his　chair　to　kiss　him。）　Have　they　brought　you
fresh　coffee？

PETKOFF。　Yes；　Louka's　been　looking　after　me。　The　war's　over。　The
treaty　was　signed　three　days　ago　at　Bucharest；　and　the　decree
for　our　army　to　demobilize　was　issued　yesterday。　

CATHERINE　（springing　erect；　with　flashing　eyes）。　The　war　over！　
Paul：　have　you　let　the　Austrians　force　you　to　make　peace？

PETKOFF　（submissively）。　My　dear：　they　didn't　consult　me。　What
could　_I_　do？　（She　sits　down　and　turns　away　from　him。）　But　of
course　we　saw　to　it　that　the　treaty　was　an　honorable　one。　It
declares　peace

CATHERINE　（outraged）。　Peace！

PETKOFF　（appeasing　her）。but　not　friendly　relations：　remember
that。　They　wanted　to　put　that　in；　but　I　insisted　on　its　being
struck　out。　What　more　could　I　do？

CATHERINE。　You　could　have　annexed　Servia　and　made　Prince
Alexander　Emperor　of　the　Balkans。　That's　what　I　would　have　done。

PETKOFF。　I　don't　doubt　it　in　the　least；　my　dear。　But　I　should
have　had　to　subdue　the　whole　Austrian　Empire　first；　and　that
would　have　kept　me　too　long　away　from　you。　I　missed　you　greatly。

CATHERINE　（relenting）。　Ah！　（Stretches　her　hand　affectionately
across　the　table　to　squeeze　his。）

PETKOFF。　And　how　have　you　been；　my　dear？

CATHERINE。　Oh；　my　usual　sore　throats；　that's　all。

PETKOFF　（with　conviction）。　That　comes　from　washing　your　neck
every　day。　I've　often　told　you　so。

CATHERINE。　Nonsense；　Paul！

PETKOFF　（over　his　coffee　and　cigaret）。　I　don't　believe　in　going
too　far　with　these　modern　customs。　All　this　washing　can't　be
good　for　the　health：　it's　not　natural。　There　was　an　Englishman
at　Phillipopolis　who　used　to　wet　himself　all　over　with　cold
water　every　morning　when　he　got　up。　Disgusting！　It　all　comes
from　the　English：　their　climate　makes　them　so　dirty　that　they
have　to　be　perpetually　washing　themselves。　Look　at　my　father：　he
never　had　a　bath　in　his　life；　and　he　lived　to　be　ninety…eight；
the　healthiest　man　in　Bulgaria。　I　don't　mind　a　good　wash　once　a
week　to　keep　up　my　position；　but　once　a　day　is　carrying　the
thing　to　a　ridiculous　extreme。

CATHERINE。　You　are　a　barbarian　at　heart　still；　Paul。　I　hope　you
behaved　yourself　before　all　those　Russian　officers。

PETKOFF。　I　did　my　best。　I　took　care　to　let　them　know　that　we　had
a　library。

CATHERINE。　Ah；　but　you　didn't　tell　them　that　we　have　an　electric
bell　in　it？　I　have　had　one　put　up。

PETKOFF。　What's　an　electric　bell？

CATHERINE。　You　touch　a　button；　something　tinkles　in　the　kitchen；
and　then　Nicola　comes　up。

PETKOFF。　Why　not　shout　for　him？

CATHERINE。　Civilized　people　never　sho