CLAIRE [stopping dead in the act of unbuckling the straps and turning sick with jealousy as she grasps the situation]. Was THATwhat I thought was your being tortured?
CATHERINE [urbanely]. That is the favorite torture of Catherine the Second, Mademoiselle. I think the Captain enjoys it very much.
CLAIRE. Then he can have as much more of it as he wants. I am sorry I intruded. [She rises to go.]
EDSTASTON [catching her train in his teeth and holding on like a bull-dog]. Don't go. Don't leave me in this horrible state.
Loosen me. [This is what he is saying: but as he says it with the train in his mouth it is not very intelligible.]
CLAIRE. Let go. You are undignified and ridiculous enough yourself without ****** me ridiculous. [She snatches her train away.]
EDSTASTON. Ow! You've nearly pulled my teeth out: you're worse than the Star of the North. [To Catherine.] Darling Little Mother: you have a kind heart, the kindest in Europe. Have pity.
Have mercy. I love you. [Claire bursts into tears.] Release me.
CATHERINE. Well, just to show you how much kinder a Russian savage can be than an English one {though I am sorry to say I am a German) here goes! [She stoops to loosen the straps.]
CLAIRE [jealously]. You needn't trouble, thank you. [She pounces on the straps: and the two set Edstaston free between them.] Now get up, please; and conduct yourself with some dignity if you are not utterly demoralized.
EDSTASTON. Dignity! Ow! I can't. I'm stiff all over. I shall never be able to stand up again. Oh Lord! how it hurts! [They seize him by the shoulders and drag him up.] Yah! Agh! Wow! Oh!
Mmmmmm! Oh, Little Angel Mother, don't ever do this to a man again. Knout him; kill him; roast him; baste him; head, hang, and quarter him; but don't tie him up like that and tickle him.
CATHERINE. Your young lady still seems to think that you enjoyed it.
CLAIRE. I know what I think. I will never speak to him again.
Your Majesty can keep him, as far as I am concerned.
CATHERINE. I would not deprive you of him for worlds; though really I think he's rather a darling [she pats his cheek].
CLAIRE [snorting]. So I see, indeed.
EDSTASTON. Don't be angry, dearest: in this country everybody's a darling. I'll prove it to you. [To Catherine.] Will your Majesty be good enough to call Prince Patiomkin?
CATHERINE [surprised into haughtiness]. Why?
EDSTASTON. To oblige me.
Catherine laughs good-humoredly and goes to the curtains and opens them. The band strikes up a Redowa.
CATHERINE [calling imperiously]. Patiomkin! [The music stops suddenly.] Here! To me! Go on with your music there, you fools.
[The Redowa is resumed.]
The sergeant rushes from the ballroom to relieve the Empress of the curtain. Patiomkin comes in dancing with Yarinka.
CATHERINE [to Patiomkin]. The English captain wants you, little darling.
Catherine resumes her seat as Patiomkin intimates by a grotesque bow that he is at Edstaston's service. Yarinka passes behind Edstaston and Claire, and posts herself on Claire's right.
EDSTASTON. Precisely. [To Claire. ] You observe, my love: "little darling." Well, if her Majesty calls him a darling, is it my fault that she calls me one too?
CLAIRE. I don't care: I don't think you ought to have done it. Iam very angry and offended.
EDSTASTON. They tied me up, dear. I couldn't help it. I fought for all I was worth.
THE SERGEANT [at the curtains]. He fought with the strength of lions and bears. God knows I shall carry a broken sweetbread to my grave.
EDSTASTON. You can't mean to throw me over, Claire. [Urgently.]
Claire. Claire.
VARINKA [in a transport of sympathetic emotion, pleading with clasped hands to Claire]. Oh, sweet little angel lamb, he loves you: it shines in his darling eyes. Pardon him, pardon him.
PATIOMKIN [rushing from the Empress's side to Claire and falling on his knees to her]. Pardon him, pardon him, little cherub!
little wild duck! little star! little glory! little jewel in the crown of heaven!
CLAIRE. This is perfectly ridiculous.
VARINKA [kneeling to her]. Pardon him, pardon him, little delight, little sleeper in a rosy cradle.
CLAIRE. I'll do anything if you'll only let me alone.
THE SERGEANT [kneeling to her]. Pardon him, pardon him, lest the mighty man bring his whip to you. God knows we all need pardon!
CLAIRE [at the top of her voice]. I pardon him! I pardon him!
PATIOMKIN [springing up joyfully and going behind Claire, whom he raises in his arms]. Embrace her, victor of Bunker's Hill. Kiss her till she swoons.
THE SERGEANT. Receive her in the name of the holy Nicholas.
VARINKA. She begs you for a thousand dear little kisses all over her body.
CLAIRE [vehemently]. I do not. [Patiomkin throws her into Edstaston's arms.] Oh! [The pair, awkward and shamefaced, recoil from one another, and remain utterly inexpressive.]
CATHERINE [pushing Edstaston towards Claire]. There is no help for it, Captain. This is Russia, not England.
