ARMS AND THE MAN
ACT I
Night: A lady’s bedchamber in Bulgaria, in a small town near the Dragoman Pass, late in November in the year 1885. Through an open window with a little balcony a peak of the Balkans, wonderfully white and beautiful in the starlit snow, seems quite close at hand, though it is really miles away. The interior of the room is not like anything to be seen in the west of Europe. It is half rich Bulgarian, half cheap Viennese. Above the head of the bed, which stands against a little wall cutting off the left hand corner of the room, is a painted wooden shrine, blue and gold, with an ivory image of Christ, and a light hanging before it in a pierced metal ball suspended by three chains. The principal seat, placed towards the other side of the room and opposite the window, is a Turkish ottoman. The counterpane and hangings of the bed, the window curtains, the little carpet, and all the ornamental textile fabrics in the room are oriental and gorgeous; the paper on the walls is occidental and paltry. The washstand, against the wall on the side nearest the ottoman and window, consists of an enamelled iron basin with a pail beneath it in a painted metal frame, and a single towel on the rail at the side. The dressing table, between the bed and the window, is a common pine table, covered with a cloth of many colors, with an expensive toilet mirror on it. The door is on the side nearest the bed; and there is a chest of drawers between. This chest of drawers is also covered by a variegated native cloth; and on it there is a pile of paper backed novels, a box of chocolate creams, and a miniature easel with a large photograph of an extremely handsome officer, whose lofty bearing and magnetic glance can be felt even from the portrait. The room is lighted by a candle on the chest of drawers, and another on the dressing table with a box of matches beside it.
The window is hinged doorwise and stands wide open. Outside, a pair of wooden shutters, opening outwards, also stand open. On the balcony a young lady, intensely conscious of the romantic beauty of the night, and of the fact that her own youth and beauty are part of it, is gazing at the snowy Balkans. She is in her nightgown, well covered by a long mantle of furs, worth, on a moderate estimate, about three times the furniture of her room.
Her reverie is interrupted by her mother, Catherine Petkoff, a woman over forty, imperiously energetic, with magnificent black hair and eyes, who might be a very splendid specimen of the wife of a mountain farmer, but is determined to be a Viennese lady, and to that end wears a fashionable tea gown on all occasions.
CATHERINE [entering hastily, full of good news] Raina! [She pronounces it Rah-eena, with the stress on the ee]. Raina! [She goes to the bed, expecting to find Raina there]. Why, where – ? [Raina looks into the room]. Heavens, child! are you out in the night air instead of in your bed ? Youll catch your death. Louka told me you were asleep.
RAINA [dreamily] I sent her away. I wanted to be alone. The stars are so beautiful! What is the matter ?
CATHERINE. Such news! There has been a battle.
RAINA [her eyes dilating] Ah! [She comes eagerly to Catherine].
CATHERINE. A great battle at Slivnitza! A victory! And it was won by Sergius.
RAINA [with a cry of delight] Ah! [They embrace rapturously] Oh, mother! [Then, with sudden anxiety] Is father safe ?
CATHERINE. Of course! he sends me the news. Sergius is the hero of the hour, the idol of the regiment.
RAINA. Tell me, tell me. How was it ? [Ecstatically] Oh, mother! mother! mother! [She pulls her mother down on the ottoman; and they kiss one another frantically].
CATHERINE [with surging enthusiasm] You cant guess how splendid it is. A cavalry charge! think of that! He defied our Russian commanders – acted without orders – led a charge on his own responsibility – headed it himself – was the first man to sweep through their guns. Cant you see it, Raina: our gallant splendid Bulgarians with their swords and eyes flashing, thundering down like an avalanche and scattering the wretched Serbs and their dandified Austrian officers like chaff. And you! you kept Sergius waiting a year before you would be betrothed to him. Oh, if you have a drop of Bulgarian blood in your veins, you will worship him when he comes back.
RAINA. What will he care for my poor little worship after the acclamations of a whole army of heroes ? But no matter: I am so happy! so proud! [She rises and walks about excitedly]. It proves that all our ideas were real after all.
CATHERINE [indignantly] Our ideas real! What do you mean ?
RAINA. Our ideas of what Sergius would do. Our patriotism. Our heroic ideals. I sometimes used to doubt whether they were anything but dreams. Oh, what faithless little creatures girls are! When I buckled on Sergius’s sword he looked so noble: it was treason to think of disillusion or humiliation or failure. And yet – and yet – [She sits down again suddenly] Promise me youll never tell him.
CATHERINE. Dont ask me for promises until I know what I’m promising.
RAINA. Well, it came into my head just as he was holding me in his arms and looking into my eyes, that perhaps we only had our heroic ideas because we are so fond of reading Byron and Puskhin, and because we were so delighted with the opera that season at Bucharest. Real life is so seldom like that! indeed never, as far as I knew it then. [Remorsefully] Only think, mother: I doubted him: I wondered whether all his heroic qualities and his soldiership might not prove mere imagination when he went into a real battle. I had an uneasy fear that he might cut a poor figure there beside all those clever officers from the Tsar’s court.
CATHERINE. A poor figure! Shame on you! The Serbs have Austrian officers who are just as clever as the Russians; but we have beaten them in every battle for all that.
RAINA [laughing and snuggling against her mother] Yes: I was only a prosaic little coward. Oh, to think that it was all true! that Sergius is just as splendid and noble as he looks! that the world is really a glorious world for women who can see its glory and men who can act its romance! What happiness! what unspeakable fulfilment!
They are interrupted by the entry of Louka, a handsome proud girl in a pretty Bulgarian peasant’s dress with double apron, so defiant that her servility to Raina is almost insolent. She is afraid of Catherine, but even with her goes as far as she dares.
LOUKA. If you please, madam, all the windows are to be closed and the shutters made fast. They say there may be shooting in the streets. [Raina and Catherine rise together, alarmed]. The Serbs are being chased right back through the pass; and they say they may run into the town. Our cavalry will be after them; and our people will be ready for them, you may be sure, now theyre running away. [She goes out on the balcony, and pulls the outside shutters to; then steps back into the room].
CATHERINE [businesslike, her housekeeping instincts aroused] I must see that everything is made safe downstairs.
RAINA. I wish our people were not so cruel. What glory is there in killing wretched fugitives ?
CATHERINE. Cruel! Do you suppose they would hesitate to kill you – or worse ?
RAINA [to Louka] Leave the shutters so that I can just close them if I hear any noise.
CATHERINE [authoritatively, turning on her way to the door] Oh no, dear: you must keep them fastened. You would be sure to drop off to sleep and leave them open. Make them fast, Louka.
LOUKA. Yes, madam. [She fastens them].
RAINA. Dont be anxious about me. The moment I hear a shot, I shall blow out the candles and roll myself up in bed with my ears well covered.
CATHERINE. Quite the wisest thing you can do, my love. Goodnight.
RAINA. Goodnight. [Her emotion comes back for a moment]. Wish me joy [They kiss]. This is the happiest night of my life – if only there are no fugitives.
CATHERINE. Go to bed, dear; and dont think of them. [She goes out].
LOUKA [secretly to Raina] If you would like the shutters open, just give them a push like this [she pushes them: they open: she pulls them to again]. One of them ought to be bolted at the bottom; but the bolt’s gone.
RAINA [with dignity, reproving her] Thanks, Louka; but we must do what we are told. [Louka make
s a grimace]. Goodnight.
LOUKA [carelessly] Goodnight. [She goes out, swaggering].
Raina, left alone, takes off her fur cloak and throws it on the ottoman. Then she goes to the chest of drawers, and adores the portrait there with feelings that are beyond all expression. She does not kiss it or press it to her breast, or shew it any mark of bodily affection; but she takes it in her hands and elevates it, like a priestess.
RAINA [looking up at the picture] Oh, I shall never be unworthy of you any more, my soul’s hero: never, never, never. [She replaces it reverently. Then she selects a novel from the little pile of books. She turns over the leaves dreamily; finds her page; turns the book inside out at it; and, with a happy sigh, gets into bed and prepares to read herself to sleep. But before abandoning herself to fiction, she raises her eyes once more, thinking of the blessed reality, and murmurs] My hero! my hero!
A distant shot breaks the quiet of the night. She starts, listening; and two more shots, much nearer, follow, startling her so that she scrambles out of bed, and hastily blows out the candle on the chest of drawers. Then, putting her fingers in her ears, she runs to the dressing table, blows out the light there, and hurries back to bed in the dark, nothing being visible but the glimmer of the light in the pierced ball before the image, and the starlight seen through the slits at the top of the shutters. The firing breaks out again: there is a startling fusillade quite close at hand. Whilst it is still echoing, the shutters disappear, pulled open from without; and for an instant the rectangle of snowy starlight flashes out with the figure of a man silhouetted in black upon it. The shutters close immediately; and the room is dark again. But the silence is now broken by the sound of panting. Then there is a scratch; and the flame of a match is seen in the middle of the room.
RAINA [crouching on the bed] Who’s there ? [The match is out instantly]. Who’s there ? Who is that ?
A MAN’S VOICE [in the darkness, subduedly, but threateningly] Sh – sh! Dont call out; or youll be shot. Be good; and no harm will happen to you. [She is heard leaving her bed, and making for the door]. Take care: it’s no use trying to run away.
RAINA. But who –
THE VOICE [warning] Remember: if you raise your voice my revolver will go off. [Commandingly]. Strike a light and let me see you. Do you hear. [Another moment of silence and darkness as she retreats to the chest of drawers. Then she lights a candle; and the mystery is at an end. He is a man of about 35, in a deplorable plight, bespattered with mud and blood and snow, his belt and the strap of his revolver-case keeping together the torn ruins of the blue tunic of a Serbian artillery officer. All that the candlelight and his unwashed unkempt condition make it possible to discern is that he is of middling stature and undistinguished appearance, with strong neck and shoulders, roundish obstinate looking head covered with short crisp bronze curls, clear quick eyes and good brows and mouth, hopelessly prosaic nose like that of a strong minded baby, trim soldierlike carriage and energetic manner, and with all his wits about him in spite of his desperate predicament: even with a sense of the humor of it, without, however, the least intention of trifling with it or throwing away a chance. Reckoning up what he can guess about Raina: her age, her social position, her character, and the extent to which she is frightened, he continues, more politely but still most determinedly] Excuse my disturbing you; but you recognize my uniform ? Serb! If I’m caught I shall be killed. [Menacingly] Do you understand that ?
RAINA. Yes
THE MAN. Well, I dont intend to get killed if I can help it. [Still more formidably] Do you understand that ? [He locks the door quickly but quietly].
RAINA [disdainfully] I suppose not. [She draws herself up superbly, and looks him straight in the face, adding, with cutting emphasis] Some soldiers, I know, are afraid to die.
THE MAN [with grim goodhumor] All of them, dear lady, all of them, believe me. It is our duty to live as long as we can. Now, if you raise an alarm –
RAINA [cutting him short] You will shoot me. How do you know that I am afraid to die ?
THE MAN [cunningly] Ah; but suppose I dont shoot you, what will happen then ? A lot of your cavalry will burst into this pretty room of yours and slaughter me here like a pig; for I’ll fight like a demon: they shant get me into the street to amuse themselves with: I know what they are. Are you prepared to receive that sort of company in your present undress ? [Raina, suddenly conscious of her nightgown, instinctively shrinks and gathers it more closely about her neck. He watches her and adds pitilessly] Hardly presentable, eh ? [She turns to the ottoman. He raises his pistol instantly, and cries] Stop! [She stops]. Where are you going ?
RAINA [with dignified patience] Only to get my cloak.
THE MAN [passing swiftly to the ottoman and snatching the cloak] A good idea! I’ll keep the cloak; and youll take care that nobody comes in and sees you without it. This is a better weapon than the revolver: eh ? [He throws the pistol down on the ottoman].
RAINA [revolted] It is not the weapon of a gentleman!
THE MAN. It’s good enough for a man with only you to stand between him and death. [As they look at one another for a moment, Raina hardly able to believe that even a Serbian officer can be so cynically and selfishly unchivalrous, they are startled by a sharp fusillade in the street. The chill of imminent death hushes the man’s voice as he adds] Do you hear ? If you are going to bring those blackguards in on me you shall receive them as you are.
Clamor and disturbance. The pursuers in the street batter at the house door, shouting Open the door! Open the door! Wake up, will you! A man servant’s voice calls to them angrily from within This is Major Petkoff’s house: you cant come in here; but a renewal of the clamor, and a torrent of blows on the door, end with his letting a chain down with a clank, followed by arush of heavy footsteps and a din of triumphant yells, dominated at last by the voice of Catherine, indignantly addressing an officer with What does this mean, sir ? Do you know where you are ? The noise subsides suddenly.
LOUKA [outside, knocking at the bedroom door] My lady! My lady! get up quick and open the door. If you dont they will break it down.
The fugitive throws up his head with the gesture of a man who sees that it is all over with him, and drops the manner he has beenassuming to intimidate Raina.
THE MAN [sincerely and kindly] No use, dear: I’m done for. [Flinging the cloak to her] Quick! wrap yourself up: theyre coming.
RAINA. Oh, thank you. [She wraps herself up with intense relief].
THE MAN [between his teeth] Dont mention it.
RAINA [anxiously] What will you do ?
THE MAN [grimly] The first man in will find out. Keep out of the way; and dont look. It wont last long; but it will not be nice. [He draws his sabre and faces the door, waiting.]
RAINA [impulsively] I’ll help you. I’ll save you.
THE MAN. You cant.
RAINA. I can. I’ll hide you. [She drags him towards the window]. Here! behind the curtains.
THE MAN [yielding to her] Theres just half a chance, if you keep your head.
RAINA [drawing the curtain before him] S-sh! [She makes for the ottoman].
THE MAN [putting out his head] Remember –
RAINA [running back to him] Yes ?
THE MAN. – nine soldiers out of ten are born fools.
RAINA. Oh! [She draws the curtain angrily before him].
THE MAN [looking out at the other side] If they find me, I promise you a fight: a devil of a fight.
She stamps at him. He disappears hastily. She takes off her cloak, and throws it across the foot of the bed. Then, with a sleepy, disturbed air, she opens the door. Louka enters excitedly.
LOUKA. One of those beasts of Serbs has been seen climbing up the waterpipe to your balcony. Our men want to search for him; and they are so wild and drunk and furious. [She makes for the other side of the room to get as far from the door as possible]. My lady says you are to dress at once, and to – [She sees the revolver lying on the ottoman, and stops, petrified].
> RAINA [as if annoyed at being disturbed] They shall not search here. Why have they been let in ?
CATHERINE [coming in hastily] Raina, darling, are you safe ? Have you seen anyone or heard anything ?
RAINA. I heard the shooting. Surely the soldiers will not dare come in here ?
CATHERINE. I have found a Russian officer, thank Heaven: he knows Sergius. [Speaking through the door to someone outside] Sir: will you come in now. My daughter will receive you.
A young Russian officer, in Bulgarian uniform, enters, sword in hand.
OFFICER [with soft feline politeness and stiff military carriage] Good evening, gracious lady. I am sorry to intrude; but there is a Serb hiding on the balcony. Will you and the gracious lady your mother please to withdraw whilst we search ?
RAINA [petulantly] Nonsense, sir: you can see that there is no one on the balcony. [She throws the shutters wide open and stands with her back to the curtain where the man is hidden, pointing to the moonlit balcony. A couple of shots are fired right under the window; and a bullet shatters the glass opposite Raina, who winks and gasps, but stands her ground; whilst Catherine screams, and the officer, with a cry of Take care! rushes to the balcony].
THE OFFICER [on the balcony, shouting savagely down to the street] Cease firing there, you fools: do you hear ? Cease firing, damn you! [He glares down for a moment; then turns to Raina, trying to resume his polite manner]. Could anyone have got in without your knowledge ? Were you asleep ?
RAINA. No: I have not been to bed.
THE OFFICER [impatiently, coming back into the room] Your neighbors have their heads so full of runaway Serbs that they see them everywhere. [Politely] Gracious lady: a thousand pardons. Goodnight. [Military bow, which Raina returns coldly. Another to Catherine, who follows him out].
Raina closes the shutters. She turns and sees Louka, who has been watching the scene curiously.
RAINA. Dont leave my mother, Louka, until the soldiers go away.
Louka glances at Raina, at the ottoman, at the curtain; then purses her lips secretively, laughs insolently, and goes out. Raina, highly offended by this demonstration, follows her to the door, and shuts it behind her with a slam, locking it violently. The man immediately steps out from behind the curtain, sheathing his sabre. Then, dismissing the danger from his mind in a businesslike way, he comes affably to Raina.
Plays Pleasant Page 4
