ACT I (2)

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Scene 1. A room in Peter Vetrova's cottage. Door opens centre rear into a little yard beyond which is the village street. Centre right, door into Lavrov's room. Right second entrance leads to kitchen and garden. Between the two doors right a large brick stove whitewashed and at present unused. Shelf above stove. A loom stands in right hand corner rear. A window in rear wall between loom and door. Before window a small table on which are student's books and papers. On left side of door a small, rude cabinet is built in the wall about six feet from floor. A wide bench stands under cabinet. A small high window in left wall. Near front, very high up on wall left, hangs a half length portrait of the Saviour.

A table left of centre. Bench before loom. Two or three stools, one or two plain chairs; and a larger chair, of peasant make, near table centre.

Glimpses of grass and a fruit-tree in bloom seen through open door and window rear.

Vetrova discovered, making bark shoes. Catherine sits near him in the large chair, sewing. Vera at loom. Vasil in door rear with violin. He ceases playing as curtain rises.

Vetrova. That brings back young days, mother.

Catherine. The summer is getting into your head, Petrovich.

Vet. My heels too. If the boy plays any more I shall forget my broken bones and be off to the forest.

Vasil. I'll keep on forever if I can play your crutch away, grandfather.

Cath. [Hastily, as Vasil raises the bow] No! Enough for to-day.

Vera. [To herself, as she weaves] Rags—rags—rags! O, if I could make some of those beautiful things I saw at the bazaar! [Softly] Or just a sweet white coverlet for me and Sasha. [Turns from the loom to the others]

Vasil. [Who has crossed to Catherine] If I can please but one it shall be you, little grandmother.

Vera. [Running to Vetrova, and sitting on his knee] And if I could please but one it should be you, little grandfather!

Cath. [Removing Vasil's arm from her shoulder] There, go to your book, lad. The Shepherd will be coming back.

Vasil. [Smiling] I am ready for him. [Crosses to small table rear, sits by it, and begins studying. Vera follows him, and they look over the book together, Vasil explaining, Vera teasing]

Vet. [Taking up his work] I wish you loved the music, Catherine. It makes things different somehow ... while it lasts.

Cath. 'Tis your spirit, Petrovich. You were never like the rest of us. The others called you queer, but I knew it was just spirit.

Vet. Eh—yes. Don't you remember the gypsy ring in the forest forty-five years——

Cath. How you talk, Petrusha! 'Tis evil times [looks guardedly at the young people] and we are old.

Vet. Yes ... old. We may gather acorns in the woods, mother, but we shall never find any more flowers. Well enough. The trees would grow wrinkled with laughter to see an old man dancing beneath them. Eh—yes, let him stoop, and pick up brush.

Cath. [Comfortingly] We have the children, Petrusha.

Vet. [Sullenly] We had their father and mother, too.

Cath. We've fared better than others. We've always had our home.

Vet. Because you served in the barin's house and the mistress liked you. Just chance! And then the barin died and Travinski got hold of everything.

Cath. But the Shepherd came.

Vet. Another chance! Life oughtn't to owe itself to that. It isn't living. Those two awful years before the Shepherd came—when Andrei died—they were real. A part of what is. We were like our neighbors then. Yes.

[Stops talking as Vera crosses to her grandmother]

Vera. [Leaning affectionately against Catherine] How you must love Vasil, grandmamma, to make him an embroidered blouse out of a piece of your best blanket!

Cath. He is leaving us, my child.

Vera. You said I should have this if I married Alexander.

Cath. Perhaps these bad times will be over then, and we may be able to get something new.

Vera. O, these bad times! They will never be over. I've been waiting for that ever since I was born.

Cath. And we waited before you, child.

Vera. [Repentant] I didn't mean it, grandmamma! Can't I help you make the blouse? But it may not be the fashion in Berlin. I will ask Sasha what the students wear. [Takes up a piece of the stuff] And how can you sew on winter things in summer time? Winter is so far away,—a thousand years away. Vasil will never live till winter time.

Cath. [Shocked] Vera!

Vera. Well, you know he can't live a thousand years.

Cath. Why does winter seem so far off, dear?

Vera. O, I don't know. [A slight pause] Alexander says we can not be married before winter.

Cath. [Smiling and laying down her work] Do you love him so much? [Vera buries her face in her grandmother's lap] And he is right, dear. You should wait a long time. What can a young man do now? Everything is uncertain. Nothing is sure but hunger and children.

Vera. [Looking up] Isn't it the strangest thing in the world?

Cath. What, dear?

Vera. That he should love me.

Cath. And that you should love him?

Vera. O, no! I couldn't help loving him!

Cath. [Shaking her head and taking up her work] My thread, child. I left it in the kitchen.

[Exit Vera, second entrance, right]

Vet. [Looking after her] She is like her mother, Catherine.

Cath. Yes ... dear Polya. I thought she was going to have a wilful heart, but she is just a woman.

Vet. [Moodily] I wish they were both with their parents in the only safe place in Russia, the grave.

Cath. [Looking at Vasil] Hush! He will be safe enough soon. The Shepherd is good to send him away, and he so poor himself. Buy him from the army, and all.

Vet. Send an innocent lad out of his own country to be safe.

Cath. He is to be a musician as well as a scholar. Berlin is the place. The Shepherd knows. He could not keep out of trouble at our universities. You know what you were in your youth, Petrovich.

Vet. I wanted to be a scholar too. But they beat me back.

Cath. You have been a good peasant. You might have been a poor scholar. And we have had the teachers. Don't you remember the first night-class in our cottage, and the noble's daughter who wore peasant clothes and taught grown men to read? That was thirty years ago.

Vet. And she went to Kara for it ... to the mines ... for teaching men to read.

Cath. But others came.

Vet. And went ... as she did.

Cath. God bless them! We can all read our Bibles now. And the lad is going to a university.

Vet. 'Tis far, Berlin. I am old. The Shepherd is needed everywhere. He may go any time. Vasil ought to stay with his sister.

Cath. She has Alexander.

Vet. How long will he keep out of prison with that big heart and hot head?

Cath. God will protect her.

Vet. As he did her mother! Yes.

Cath. You are hardening your heart, Petrovich. [Turns toward icon, crossing herself]

Vera. [Re-entering] Grandmamma! [Stands in door]

Cath. The thread, child.

Vera. O, I forgot. Uliana is in the kitchen.

Cath. [Rising quickly] Uliana!

Vera. It's bad news, I'm afraid. She keeps wiping her eyes pretending she isn't.

Cath. Did she tell you anything?

Vera. No, grandmamma. I couldn't make her.

[Catherine hurries across to kitchen entrance. Vetrova takes up his crutch and hobbles after her]

Cath. [Sternly] Stay with the children, Petrovich. [Exit, closing door behind her]

Vera. [Opening door for Vetrova] Go on, grandfather. [Laughs and kisses him] Are you afraid? I promise you Vasil and I will stay here. She wants you, I know.

Vet. [Lifting her chin] A good child, but too pretty, too pretty. [Exit]

Vera. [Turns and looks at Vasil, who is absorbed in his book. Crosses to him] Vasil?

Vasil. [Looking up reluctantly] Ten pages beyond Adrian's mark. He will be pleased.

Vera. Is there anything you like better than to please Adrian?

Vasil. [Listening] Who is in the kitchen?

Vera. Uliana.

Vasil. And you don't want to hear the gossip?

Vera. No. I want to stay with you. [Guilefully] You are going away, you know.

Vasil. [Rising] There may be news from——

Vera. Don't go! I promised.

Vasil. Then it is from Petoff.

Vera. Adrian doesn't want you to hear about such things.

Vasil. [Sitting down] Haven't I ears and eyes? They think I don't know ... but see here. [Takes up a tablet] You may read it, Vera. [She glances over tablet] I wrote it this morning.

Vera. It is gay and sad too. But it is not like a June song. There are no birds and flowers in it.

Vasil. Don't you know who the "Summer Maid" is, Vera?

Vera. Summer herself, isn't she?

Vasil. No, stupid. She is Freedom—Liberty.

Vera. O, Vasil! And the old, dead Winter is——

Vasil. Yes, the Czar.

Vera. O, I'm afraid! Let me burn it, Vasil.

Vasil. [Taking it from her] No.

Vera. Suppose somebody should find it—a spy?

Vasil. He wouldn't understand it. You didn't yourself.

Vera. But I'm a stupid.

Vasil. [Catching her in his arms] Are you, little sister?

Vera. Let me have it, Vasil.

Vasil. [Tears sheet from tablet, folds it and puts it into his pocket] No. It's as safe as any piece of paper.

Vera. Adrian won't like it. He says your mind must be free from—all that. Free for what, Vasil? We want to be free only to do things.

Vasil. [Laying his hand on his book] For this,—and this [softly touching his violin],—and this. [Lifting his pen]

Vera. O, what a slave! You will have three masters. I want to be free too, but not for such things. I want to make Sasha happy.

Vasil. A woman's freedom. Free to wear fetters. Have you seen him to-day?

Vera. No, but——

Vasil. What? And the sun so high?

Vera. I am waiting for him now. I shall tease him about the great man who fell in love with me at the bazaar.

Vasil. Who was it wanted to make Sasha happy?

Vera., He ought to be glad that such a splendid officer even looked at me!

Vasil. And were you glad, Vera?

Vera. No. I ran away.

Vasil. What did Madam Korego say to that?

Vera. [As Korelenko enters unseen by her] She said she would never take me again, and I told her I didn't care, I was going to many Sasha, who was finer than any officer in the world.

Vasil. Good-morning, Alexander Korelenko.

Vera. [Whirls about and sees Alexander] Now I can't tease him! [Vasil returns to his book]

Korelenko. About what, little bird?

Vera. O, I found a new lover at the bazaar.

Kore. [Smiling] I told Madam Korego it would never do to take you.

Vera. A fine gentleman, all covered with gold lace.

Kore. And he gave you a piece to weep over when you are only poor little madam Korelenko?

Vera. A very great man—General Petrizoff!

Kore. [Starting furiously] Has that—has he looked at you? [Walks from her]

Vera. [Imploring] Sasha!

Kore. [Turning back to her] My little one! I'm a jealous fool! He will not hunt out you, poor little you. [Holds her to him, and shakes a clenched fist behind her back. Adrian enters by street door and goes up to Korelenko]

Adrian. You would hold love in your heart and hate in your hand, Alexander?

Vera. [Freeing herself] O, Adrian! [Takes his hat and stick] You are tired. I will bring you some tea.

Adr. No, little sister. Lay the table in the garden. It makes one hungry to walk from Petoff.

Vera. So far! Sit down, you bad little brother! [Leads him, to the large chair, and goes toward kitchen] In three minutes! [Listens at door and says softly] Uliana is gone. [Exit]

Kore. What of Petoff?

Adr. [Looks about and sees Vasil at his book] Vasil, lad, a cup of water from the garden well. The roads are unusually dusty for the first of June.

[Exit Vasil, kitchen way]

Kore. You are wrong, Adrian. It is time for him to know man's work. This is not a day for dreamers.

Adr. For dreamers, no,—but a dreamer, yes. Can we not spare one to step out of the days to a place in the ages? We shall die, indeed, if there is none to sing us.

Kore. He must know his theme then.

Adr. He shall know it,—when he knows art so well that life can not tempt him to die. I will save his youth, his enthusiasm, and then ... he may please himself.

Kore. No use. Our prisons are full of buried enthusiasms. He must take his fate with the rest of us. This is the world, not a fairy's cockle-shell. You can't save him.

Adr. I must. In him Heaven has given me back my own youth. I shall not surrender it a second time.

Kore. He belongs to himself, and he will soon find out that he is a man and a Russian. But Petoff? What did you find there?

Adr. Despair, desolation, death. That is all they have gained by revolt.

Kore. No! They have gained the name of men. To have submitted to be stripped and turned bleeding under the skies would have proved them lower than beasts.

[Enter Vetrova, right, with cup of water]

Vet. I begged the cup of Vasil. Let me die when I can not serve Adrian Lavrov.

Adr. [Advancing to him and taking the cup] Thank you, Petrovich. I would rather serve you. [Drinks]

Vet. Are we safe, Adrian Lavrov? Is Lonz at peace?

Adr. Yes, Petrovich. I have Prince Travinski's word that we shall not be molested so long as we are patient under the law.

Kore. The law? Under robbery and the rod! Patience under the foot of your master!

Adr. The slave can always rise above the master by forgiving him. Go among our neighbors, Petrovich, and let them know they need fear nothing while they themselves keep the peace.

Vet. Heaven, and the Shepherd of Lonz, be praised!

[Places cup on table and goes out street door]

Kore. You saw Travinski? How did you manage it? He has steadily refused to see any one from the people.

Adr. And he refused to see me at first, but as I was coming away I met a lady who interceded for me.

Kore. His daughter? The princess Sophie?

Adr. No. Sophie Remon. One of the Red Cross workers.

Kore. Remon? I don't know her.

Adr. Her district is farther north, but she comes here occasionally.

Kore. She must have great influence.

Adr. Yes. I was surprised to meet her in the palace.

Kore. Naturally. In the enemy's camp. A spy on one side or the other.

Adr. [Sternly] I, too, was in the palace, Korelenko.

Kore. [Looking at him closely, after a surprised start] All right. I suppose she explained her presence there.

Adr. I asked nothing. She is probably a friend of the princess.

Kore. I hope not. She can't be her friend and yours too.

Adr. Why not?

Kore. I learned to-day that the princess Sophie is one of Petrizoff's spies. She has a wager with him, a luck-piece against a tiara, that she will secure evidence to convict you.

Adr. Petrizoff need not be at so much trouble. He can imprison me without evidence when he pleases.

Kore. Not you. That may do for other poor devils, but you have friends all over Russia. It would make too much of a stir even for Petrizoff. He would have to show the papers——

[Re-enter Vera, right]

Vera. Have you forgotten you were hungry?

Adr. Come, Sasha.

[They go out, right, with Vera, as Vetrova and princess Sophie Travinski appear at street door. She wears a long gray ulster marked with a red cross, and a plain, drooping hat with veil]

Sophie. Thank you, sir. I might have missed the house.

Vet. [As they enter] Bless you, no! There's not a child in the village out of its cradle that couldn't tell you where the Shepherd lives.

Soph. [Looking about the room] And he lives here?

Vet. As I've told you, lady,—with me, old Vetrova. Ten years since he came in at that door to be a son to me and Catherine.

Soph. He has lived here ten years?

Vet. Not all of that, for he is often called away. But he always comes back. 'Tis never too far to come back. [Draws up the large chair] Will you sit here, madam?

Soph. You have a granddaughter? [Sitting]

Vet. Little Vera,—and a grandson, too. Twins, though not a bit alike, as you may see for yourself before you go. 'Twas Vasil, my grandson, who brought the Shepherd to us. He was just seven years old then, and a fine lad. We can say that about our grandchildren, ma'am. The Shepherd loved him at first sight, and a father he's been to him ever since. His own father, my Andrei, died under the rod one bad year when taxes couldn't be paid, and his wife—the little mother—died too when they brought him in. She dropped like that. But we don't tell the children. They'll not have to dig up graves for trouble. [Going right] I'll let the Shepherd know you are here.

Soph. [In sudden confusion] Wait—I mean—yes—tell him I am here.

Vet. 'Tis luck you have found him at home, for these bitter days keep him at work. Shall I tell him your name, lady?

Soph. Sophie Remon.

[Exit Vetrova]

Soph. His home! What a place! But I could kneel here. [Rises and walks nervously, but becomes suddenly composed at sound of a step. Enter Adrian, right. He stands reservedly at some distance from her]

Adr. May I help you this time? But I hope it is not trouble of your own that brings you.

Soph. No.

Adr. Then I am glad to see you again. We had so little time this morning, and my surprise was so great when I recognized you——

Soph. You knew me?

Adr. I should know you anywhere.

Soph. But you will keep my secret? It is important. No one must suspect that I am Sophie Travinski.

Adr. [Starts] Ah!... I did not know——

Soph. You said you recognized me!

Adr. As Sophie Remon. We had not met for some time.

Soph. O——

Adr. But have no fear, your highness——

Soph. [Approaching and offering her hand] Not to you. To you I am still the same.

Adr. [Not seeing her hand] Let me thank you again for being my kind divinity this morning.

Soph. I did nothing.

Adr. Everything. The people are crazed out of their dulness. They fear new, unknown horrors. I did not know what might happen; but the assurance of Prince Travinski will renew their endurance. That was what I needed—his word.

Soph. [Uneasily] You can not need it. You who have such power over the people. 'Tis not because Travinski said it but because you repeat it that they believe. You are a great man, Adrian Lavrov.

Adr. [Smiling] Not great enough to be flattered as great.

Soph. O, I have seen—[checks herself, changing her words] men with men, and I know a king from a subject.

Adr. Then you are wiser than I. But what is your wish, your highness? You say you have not come for yourself.

Soph. No. For Vera Vetrova. She is in danger.

Adr. Vera? How can such a child be in danger?

Soph. You ask that in Russia?

Adr. She lives at home—she goes nowhere.

Soph. Where was she yesterday?

Adr. I was away all day.

Soph. And Vera was in Yaltowa, at the bazaar to raise funds for the wounded.

Adr. I remember now. Madam Korego asked permission to take her.

Soph. She is not a wise woman.

Adr. What has happened?

Soph. Petrizoff saw her. You know the man he is.

Adr. Yes—O——

Soph. She escaped him, but madam was pleased to give all information.

Adr. What can I do? Where will she be safe?

Soph. Not in the Czar's dominions. Petrizoff——

Adr. I know! Something must be done at once. I must think!

Soph. I have already thought. Will you trust me?

Adr. [Gazing at her] Absolutely.

Soph. O, thank you!

Adr. You have a plan?

Soph. A friend of mine leaves for Odessa to-morrow to embark for America. Vera can travel with her, taking her maid's passport. She will be safe until to-morrow. The officers' ball, and some other matters, will keep Petrizoff occupied. I will arrange everything and send for her in the morning.

Adr. Poor little girl! It will be hard for her, and her grandparents are very feeble. Dear old Petrovich! It will kill him to lose his darling.

Soph. [With concealed anxiety] You—you are very fond of her?

Adr. Yes.

Soph. [Bravely] Perhaps you love her.

Adr. I do.

Soph. O! Then——

Adr. But it will be hardest for Korelenko. She is betrothed to him.

Soph. Betrothed! Ah, to——

Adr. Alexander Korelenko. He is headstrong, and does not always understand. I'm afraid he will want to brave things out here.

Soph. O, he can't! He must understand that he can't. That would mean the destruction of both. Could he not go with her?

Adr. Perhaps.

Soph. I can arrange that too, if he wishes. My friend was to be accompanied by a brother. He can go later. Tell Korelenko, and let me know before to-morrow.

[Re-enter Vetrova, right]

Vet. [Respectfully] Will the lady take a cup of tea in the garden with Catherine and my little granddaughter?

Soph. Gladly. [To Adrian] She must know me.

[Vetrova holds the door open for her]

[Vera's voice without] O, you have come! This way to the garden.

[Vetrova closes the door and crosses to Adrian, who stands motionless, apparently not seeing Vetrova]

Vet. A sweet lady.

Adr. [To himself] The princess!

Vet. Eh, yes, she steps like one. But not so pretty as our Vera.

Adr. [Catching the last word] Vera! Ah,—Petrovich, I've been thinking that the children ought not to be parted.

Vet. You are right, Adrian Lavrov.

Adr. And you would be willing to let Vera go with Vasil to Berlin?

Vet. [Astounded] Go with him? My Vera? My little girl? Go away? Leave her old grandfather? I don't understand you, Adrian Lavrov. Let the boy stay with his sister.

Adr. [Putting his hand on Vetrova's shoulder] That must not be, Petrovich. He ought to go. He must go. He will be a great musician. God means it. There is no mistake about him. [Leaves Vetrova and crosses to table where Vasil has been studying. Turns over the papers meditatively, forgetting Vetrova] He will never write. He feels too much to articulate. But music—through that his divinity can flow. [Takes up the book] Bless the lad! He learns by leaps. [Drops book] And I must send him from me—my youth—my dreams.

Vet. But not Vera! Not her!

Adr. If she stays she will marry, Petrovich. And she must leave you then.

Vet. No, no! Alexander has promised me that she may live with me till I die. [Pleadingly] Only till I die, Adrian Lavrov.

Adr. [Hiding his emotion] Well, Petrovich, sufficient unto the day. Let us be happy till to-morrow.

[Re-enter Korelenko, right]

Kore. Vera is calling you, Petrovich. [Vetrova hobbles off, right] Who is this woman, Adrian?

Adr. You heard the name.

Kore. I heard what she calls herself, but who is she?

Adr. I shall not tell you.

Kore. You needn't. I know enough.

Adr. What do you know?

Kore. What my eyes tell me. She is helping Vera with the dishes—and such hands! Remember I have warned you against the princess Sophie.

Adr. Forget that slander, Korelenko.

Kore. Slander! I believe that this woman is the friend and accomplice of the princess.

Adr. [Smiling] You do?

Kore. [Looking at his watch] I must hurry to Yaltowa. Do me this favor, Adrian. Don't leave Vera alone with this—Sophie Remon. At the best she is not what she pretends to be, and for some reason she is trying to win Vera's friendship.

Adr. Alexander, I must speak to you about Vera.

Kore. [Going] Not a second to spare. I am already late, and Gregorief——

Adr. Gregorief! He will ruin you, Sasha. You are half a terrorist now. He will complete the work.

Kore. He is getting at the bottom of a big reactionary plot. I can't stay to explain, and we don't know enough yet——

Adr. Keep away from him!

Kore. Can't now. We must root this out. It is a terrible thing. I shall be back by midnight. [Exit]

Adr. And Vera must go to-morrow.

[Re-enter Vetrova, right]

Adr. What is wrong, Petrovich?

Vet. The lady is a good lady. Yes. But why does she want to take Vera from the old man? She has stolen the child's heart. And to-morrow she is going to send a carriage——

[Distant cries are heard from without]

Adr. What is that? It sounds like—Petoff yesterday. [Uliana hurries in, street door] What is it, Uliana?

Uliana [Crossing herself toward icon as she enters] O, sir, the soldiers have come!

Adr. The soldiers? Well, they are only passing through the village.

Uli. They have stopped, sir! And they are Cossacks.

Adr. Do not be alarmed. They— [Enter two peasants] Simeon? Gregori?

Simeon. What do they want—the soldiers?

Adr. Nothing.

Gregori. We are ordered to line up in the street. They are dragging some of the men out. Does that mean nothing, Shepherd of Lonz?

Adr. I will find out what it means. Stay here. You have done no wrong. You will not be harmed. [Enter another peasant] Ugo?

Ugo. Is it flogging, sir?

Adr. No! It can't be! [Goes toward door. Cries of "The Shepherd, The Shepherd," heard without]

Adr. [In door] I am here.

A voice without. We have followed your counsel, Shepherd of Lonz. We have kept the peace. We have borne the taxes. We have given our sons to the war. Why are the soldiers here?

Adr. I do not know. But I have the word of Prince Travinski, your little father, that no outrage will be committed. Come in, friends.

[A dozen or more peasants enter. Catherine, Sophie, Vera and Vasil come on, right]

A peasant. [Doggedly] I gave the Czar my two sons. He gives me the rod.

Another. My children have no bread. But the taxes are paid.

Adr. You have done your best, and I can not believe that you will be harmed.

A peasant. It makes no difference how we do. There were good men at Petoff. [A man staggers in]

Adr. Kalushkin!

Uli. [Rushing to him] My Petrov! Out of your bed! Why did you come?

Kalushkin. We are to be lined up in the street and every tenth man flogged.

[Silence. Then a woman hurries in]

Adr. Anna!

Anna. [Kneeling before Adrian] My lad—they have taken him! His father died last night. You know how he died. He was starved. He left the bread for me and the lad. And now they have taken him—my boy—[sobbing]

[Adrian lifts her up in silence]

A peasant. [Starting up from bench where he has sat as if stunned] Flogging! [Relapses into silence]

Kalush. We are weak, we are starved, we can not bear the blows.

Adr. Whatever happens we will not forget that the blow we receive falls on our bodies only; the blow we give falls back upon our souls. We will be patient even unto death; we will not league with our enemy against our immortal selves.

[Groans, and mutters of remonstrance]

What have our neighbors at Petoff gained by striking back? Put out your hands and feel the ashes of their homes. And they have lost not only their homes, their children, and themselves, but an eternal triumph, a triumph for the spirit of peace in the world.

A voice at door. Here they come!

[Enter Orloff, with soldiers. Others are seen crowding into the yard]

Orloff. We want the men of this house.

Adr. I am one.

Orl. [Looking him over] Not you. We know you. We want the peasants. There are two here. [Glancing at paper in his hand] Peter Vetrova, Vasil Vetrova.

Adr. For what are they wanted? This is a peaceful village.

Orl. And we intend to see that it remains so.

Adr. I can assure you of that. My word is worth something.

Orl. Not in the army, friend.

Adr. The men of Lonz are men of peace.

Orl. A warning not to get bad habits from their neighbors won't hurt them. Revolt is catching, and Petoff has given us a deal of trouble.

Adr. Does this mean flogging?

Orl. Only every tenth man. The same as for taxes. They get off light, but we've heard no thanks yet.

Adr. Prince Travinski gave me his word this morning——

Orl. Travinski! It was this morning that he sent to Petrizoff asking him to warm up Lonz a little and be quick about it.

Adr. This morning?

Orf. You see, my friend, your word won't pass in the army. And you can't blame Travinski for wanting to take things in time here after all his bother about Petoff. [Loudly] Peter Vetrova!

Adr. [Pushing Vetrova forward] One blow would kill this old man. Have you a warrant for murder?

Orl. Let him go. Death will take care of him. [Laughs]

[Adrian draws Vetrova back]

Orl. Vasil Vetrova!

[Vasil steps out, his face white, his eyes blazing]

A voice. Adrian Lavrov, do you still say submit?

Adr. [Blanching] Submit.

Orl. [To Vasil] Come!

Adr. [Stepping between them] I will take his lot. Put me in his place.

Orl. You are not a peasant.

Adr. I live as one, work as one. We are not born to a class; we choose it. It is the lad who is no peasant.

Orl. What is he then?

Adr. A student.

Orl. Ha! In the University of Lonz! No. He must come with us.

Adr. If I can not stand for him I will stand for myself. I am one of these people.

A voice. No!

Adr. You live by my counsel. I too must live by it. If I shun the fate it brings I can not ask you to believe me again.

[Sophie moves appealingly forward, then back unnoticed]

Orl. I can't oblige you with a flogging,—I am sorry to say,—even to keep you in favor with your converts. Forward! To the line!

Soph. [Stepping out] Release the boy!

Orl. Who are you?

Soph. [Taking off her hat] You know, Count Orloff.

Orl. I salute your highness.

Soph. Release him.

Orl. Again I salute your highness, but my orders are from Petrizoff.

Soph. Mine also. Read this. [Holds an open locket before him]

Orl. [Reads] "The bearer is in my service. Petrizoff." [Softly] Ah,—the tiara?

Adr. O God!

Orl. We release Vasil Vetrova. [To princess, in low tone] When may I see you?

Soph. To-night, at the ball.

Orl. [Bending over her hand] Till then—silence. [To the men] Forward!

A voice. Must we go, Shepherd of Lonz? We have hands as well as they! Must we go?

Adr. Go. The millennium is no lie, and the man who suffers wrong for the eternal right's sake is the man who brings it nearer. Go! And God give you strength to be true to yourselves—to the future—to Him!

[Orloff, soldiers and peasants pass out. Adrian is following when Sophie comes toward him hesitatingly]

Adr. I must go with the people.

Soph. I have not deceived you in the way you think.

Adr. [Passing her] I must go.

Soph. You will return here?

Adr. This is my home.

Soph. I shall wait for you.

Adr. Farewell! [Exit]

[Sophie stands looking after him. Vasil approaches and kneels before her. She gives him her hand, which he kisses reverently. Curtain]


Soph. Almost sunset. [Turns from window] And he knows I am waiting.[Hears a step in the yard and turns again to window. Adrian enters, pauses in door, and sees Sophie gazing out. He advances]

Adr. Your highness?

Soph. [Turning her head] You have made no haste.

Adr. I have been with the people.

Soph. [Looking at him] You are tired. I, too, went out, but it was so terrible.... You are very tired. Sit down, please. I want to stand. [Takes a few nervous steps and goes back to window]

Adr. [Breaking the silence] Is there anything to say?

Soph. [Not turning] The horrible thing you think of me is not true.

Adr. We will not talk about that.

Soph. [Turns, eagerly] You have forgiven me?

Adr. Yes.

Soph. As the saints forgive, or for love of me?

Adr. For love of God, not you!

Soph. [Smiling] It's the same thing, isn't it?

Adr. [In embarrassment] I—what did you mean?

Soph. Come, sit down. [She takes a seat. He does not move] Do rest. You will drop. [He is silent] So you do not love me?

Adr. I have not time to amuse your highness——

Soph. [Rising] Nor I to be amused. I know the truth. You do love me. I saw it in your face when you thought I had been false. I knew then that I was more than a mere traitor. I was beloved. And in spite of the suffering—the sadness—the shame—I was glad.

Adr. [Trembling] Glad?

Soph. First, let me tell you that I am Petrizoff's spy. [He drops to a seat] He wanted to convict you. You are so important, it seems, that proof from a high source was necessary. I offered to supply it. [Smiles] Don't you see? I was afraid some one else might be successful.

Adr. [Rising] I see. You are only false to Petrizoff.

Soph. [Hotly] I am only his good angel. I have kept him from doing terrible things by not finding the means——

Adr. Forgive me. I don't understand yet. Why did you do this—for me?

Soph. You were doing a noble work.

Adr. [Turns away] Yes, it was my work you wanted to save.

Soph. Adrian! [He faces her. She stands in the light from the window] You came to the Travinski palace two years ago. It was June, like this—[motioning out]—and sunset—like this. Do you remember?

Adr. I remember.

Soph. You talked to my father. I was in the room. You did not see me, a mere princess,—but I saw you—heard you. I could not leave—I could not turn away. Your words were like new dreams to me.... And after that Petrizoff appealed to my father to furnish evidence against you. He consented because he feared your power over the peasants. I begged him to trust the matter to me, and it was then that I made the foolish wager with Petrizoff. My light manner deceived him, but all the time my heart was dying within me for fear I should fail.

Adr. [Falteringly] Your highness——

Soph. O, not that! I have called you Adrian for two years. [He is silent, and she continues] The Red Cross work gave me opportunities to see you. At first perhaps I was only trying to save you—and win you. But now I know that I am true. I am ready to die for the things that you would die for, not for your sake but the things' sake. Though I do not love you less. My love has grown with my spirit. When we met this morning I dared to put into my eyes all that I felt. You looked as though you had suddenly met a being out of Heaven, but it was not Heaven's light upon my face; it was my love for you.

Adr. Sophie ... let it be the light from Heaven, not poor human love.

Soph. [Drawing back] Have I—am I—mistaken?

Adr. No. I love you as I have prayed never to love in my life.

Soph. And I love you as I have prayed all my life I might love.

Adr. There are greater things—than this.

Soph. I know. It is because of those greater things that I love you. [Touching him gently] And how can love be anything but a help—a blessing?

Adr. By taking no second place; by making itself master, as it always does; as it is doing now.

[Moves from her in agitation, which he suppresses, and speaks steadily] Years ago I gave myself to mankind. A poor gift, but the surrender was hard, for I loved myself and believed in giants, if not gods, who shoulder above the race. But the surrender was complete. And now shall I take another self in you? One that I could never give up?

[She is silent. A woman approaches without, moaning. Adrian goes to the door] Anna?

Anna. [Appearing at door] My lad is dead, sir. He wanted to see you again, but there was none to send. Each is busy with his own.

Adr. Dear Nikola! God's rest is his.

Anna. Yes. Heaven is a good place for our children. 'Tis better with me than Uliana. Her Petrov may live, but he will never walk. Can you come to-night and sit a bit by the lad? I'm almost thinkin' he would know it, sir.

Adr. I will come, Anna.

Anna. Just a bit. I wouldn't keep you from the living. God bless you, sir! [Goes. Adrian remains in door until her footsteps die away, then returns to Sophie]

Adr. You know what my work means. The daily offering up of the body to prison and death. That does not matter now, but if you were in danger, as my wife would always be, do you doubt that I would try to save you at the risk of all for which I have lived? And I have lived for it because it was the one righteous way for me.

Soph. I should never come between you and your work.

Adr. I gave up ambition—I would rather move with the multitude one step nearer the light than with my two hands catch at the sun. I gave up art—what right had I to retreat into the beautiful while my brothers lay blind without? Burnish my spirit to reflect gleams beyond the stars, while children were without bread? But love? O, I thought God would spare me this!

Soph. Adrian—you don't understand—I should not be in your way—your work would be mine——

Adr. O, you don't understand—you can't, for you are a woman, whose natural breath is the incense of sacrifice. But in me there is no angel. If you were mine, I would risk everything to hold you—one bit of rosy flesh that I might kiss!

Soph. [Softly] I know you better than that.

Adr. Even now I am trembling for you, thinking more of your safety than of the poor people who are waiting for me as their only hope. You must leave here at once—cease trying to protect me—what you have done for Vasil may arouse the suspicions of Petrizoff——

Soph. He will not hear of it. I spoke to Orloff. [Answering his look] I can take care of myself, Adrian. [Taking his hand] It is you who need——

Adr. [Withdrawing his hand] Don't! Who lets in love, lets in his master, and I must be free—free! You will despise me, but that perhaps is the better way. O, I long to deceive myself, to say that it would make no difference, that I could see the chains fastened about you, see you dragged away, and go on unfalteringly with no dimming of the vision. But it would be a lie.

Soph. The truth. You could do it.

Adr. No. And you would not want me to do it Forgive me. You do not believe it now, but you would want me to love you first.

Soph. Yes. But I should not let you. You say yourself that sacrifice is woman's breath. I could give up even my desire to be first. But why make a question of the impossible? No woman could be first with you, Adrian.

Adr. O you don't know!

[A man comes to door, rear, makes sign of the cross toward icon, and stands waiting]

Adr. What now, Nico?

Nico. Petrov Kalushkin is worse, sir. Can you come before night?

Adr. In ten minutes.

Nico. The Holy Mother bless you, sir! [Exit]

Soph. [As Adrian turns silently to her] I have only this to say, Adrian. I understand, and I am ready.

Adr. And I am not. I know the man in me too well. I can not trust him. While you are safe, and I am free, go.

Soph. [Paling and gathering up her pride] I am sorry that I waited for the command. [Moving to right] I will speak to the Vetrovas, and obey you.

Adr. [As she opens door] Sophie!

Soph. [Turning] Princess Travinski! [Exit]

Adr. Ah, pride will not help her. I don't know what has happened—what I have done——

[Enter Vasil, centre right, carrying his violin]

Vasil. O, has she gone?

Adr. No, but she is going.

Vasil. She will come back?

Adr. Why should she? Isn't it enough that she has given herself to us for one day?

Vasil. She has given herself to me forever—by saving my life. She may forget you and the others, but she can't forget me, Adrian. O, I have been so happy to-day!

Adr. To-day?

Vasil. I have finished "The Joy of the Stars."

Adr. [Exultantly] Your sonata finished? To-day!

Vasil. You have been right, Adrian. This life shall not touch me. I could never understand it. When I think of it I grow blind—blind—blind! I shall sing—just sing till my head goes off, nor ask why. The people are good, honest, work from light to dark, yet they starve, bleed, die. And I, who pray to harm nothing, I—this morning—[stops, shudders, crosses to table, rear, lays his violin upon it, and sits despairingly. Adrian follows and puts his arm over the boy's shoulders]

Adr. That is over, lad. You will soon be in Berlin with your music, and you will forget. Think of it as a dream that will not come again.

Vasil. But it will be coming to others. Always somewhere there are people suffering, in prison, mad, tortured——

Adr. You can not help them now, Vasil. And to let sympathy destroy your power for work will rob them of the joy you may bring them hereafter. Forget them for awhile that you may come again with help, not tears, that ease your heart rather than theirs.

Vasil. No, I shall not forget—not for a minute—but I shall work and be blithe of soul, for what has the soul to do with the tearing of the heart, unless it be to show its free wings above it? If I were imprisoned, racked, dying, I should want the music to go on, I should try even then to help it, to turn my cries into a song. That is why I can sing while they suffer—because happiness is the right thing—because I am ready to suffer while they sing,—not because I forget. O, you can trust me, Adrian! And [with sudden appeal] I want to be at the meeting to-night.

Adr. [Hastily] No.

Vasil. Yes, Adrian.

Adr. You are too young.

Vasil. As old as the morning star. Do not be afraid. Whatever touches me, nothing shall touch my song.

Adr. Your song can be saved only with your life, Vasil, and this meeting is dangerous. In a few days you are going away. We will not uselessly waste your heart to-night.

Vasil. I do not want to go just now, Adrian. Let me stay here a little longer. There is so much you can teach me yet.

Adr. [Smiling] You make better music than I can dream. No, it is time to go.

Vasil. But I want to stay!

Adr. [Quickly] You must have no wishes. [More gently] Aside from your art.

Vasil. Art can breathe only through life. I must live! Art is for men and women. If I do not understand them, how can they understand my music? I shall not play to sheep, nor rocks, nor stars, nor God, nor angels!

Adr. You know what I mean, Vasil. In heart the true artist is all man, all woman; but in genius, as impersonal as the universe.

Vasil. I know it! Have I not proved it to-day? Petrov Kalushkin is lying over yonder bleeding from a hundred lashes, but I—[taking up his violin]—listen to "The Joy of the Stars!"

Adr. [Laying his hand on the bow] Stop—no—I mean—[silence. Vasil puts down the violin and looks at Adrian] I am not a genius, Vasil. You will be what I can not.

Vasil. And you will trust me? I may be at the meeting?

Adr. [Taking his hat] Yes. This once. And then Berlin.

Vasil. You are worn out, Adrian. Must you go again?

Adr. Again and again. You may say good-by to the princess for me.

Vasil. Wait! She is coming! [Exit Adrian, street door, as Sophie and Vera enter left. Sophie has on hat and ulster]

Vera. You kissed me this morning, and you were a princess.

Soph. And I will kiss you again, dear Vera. You will be ready in the morning for the visit you have promised me?

Vera. O, yes!

[They cross toward Vasil]

Vera. I shall love you always for saving my Vasil. It would have killed him. Adrian has guarded him always. [Lifting Vasil's hand] See——

Vasil. [Offended, drawing away his hand] I am not a child, Vera.

Vera. [Hurt] O, Vasil!

Vasil. [Embracing her] There! The princess will think we are two babies.

Vera. [With dignity] I am betrothed.

Soph. Happy Alexander!

Vasil. [Jealously, as she caresses Vera] Princess, may I play to you before you go?

Soph. O, will you?

Vera. Sit here, princess.

[Sophie takes the large chair, Vera sits on stool beside her. Vasil gets his violin from table, comes over and stands ready to play. Drops the bow in desperation]

Soph. What is the matter?

Vasil. How can I play to that ugly coat and hat?

Soph. [Laughing and removing hat and ulster] Is that all?

Vasil. Now you are my princess!

Soph. Yours?

Vasil. Yes. You have sold yourself to me.

Soph. I have?

Vasil. By doing me a favor—the most binding of bargains. As long as you live your thoughts will come back to me. Could you forget me, princess?

Soph. No, Vasil. But you must not care so much.

Vasil. Don't you like me to care?

Soph. Yes, but——

Vasil. Then I will. O, it is glorious to dream and know why! To sing and know to whom the song belongs!

Soph. My boy, make your country your goddess, not a woman.

Vasil. My country! What is it? The thing that raised a knout above my shoulders?

Soph. My dear Vasil——

Vasil. Adrian is right. I must find that which is not country, nor home, nor people,—the eternal in the hour.

Soph. But Adrian cares for country, home, people.

Vasil. No. He cares only for the soul. These other things are shadow boundaries in the mind that vanish when the soul looks on them. Here, I'll show you how little he cares. [Unfastens a chain from his neck and draws a medal from his bosom] He gave me this, because I wanted it to play with. I was only a boy then. And he forgot all about it. Have you noticed how Adrian forgets? I would not give it back because he was going to bury it. [Holding out medal] See? [Drawing it back] You love him, don't you?

Soph. Why—yes—you strange boy.

Vasil. Then you may see it.

Soph. [Turning away] No.

Vasil. But I want you to look. The name is on it—his grandfather's—great-grandfather's—O, I don't know how far back. But I am sure he was a great prince.

Soph. [Looking at medal] Donskoi!

Vasil. Wasn't he a great prince?

Soph. Yes. But a greater man.

Vasil. And Adrian could be a prince too. [Re-fastening chain] But he doesn't care at all. When I asked him if this was a piece of the sun, he said "No, the last of a great shadow." I know what he meant now. Why are you sad, princess?

Soph. Because I have been unkind to Adrian.

Vasil. Don't mind. He will forgive you. He forgives everybody everything.

Soph. But it isn't pleasant to be forgiven that way, as if we were anybody else. I want to be forgiven because I am myself.

Vasil. You can't with Adrian. His star is the soul, and in its light we are all alike.

Soph. And what is your star, Vasil?

Vasil. Mine? It is the same, only I call it love instead of soul. The great love—that makes one heart beat in another's body—that makes me faint in Russia when a beggar starves in India—that fades your cheek with the girl's at an English loom—that turns the comfortable American out of doors with the driven Jew—that gives one color to every flag, and makes the might of the strongest nation the right of the Kaffir babe. This is my star, as Adrian's, only I see it warm and golden instead of cold and white.

Soph. [Softly] It may not be always cold and white to him.

Vasil. [Thoughtfully] Perhaps not, or he would not know so well——

Soph. How others see?

Vasil. [Nods, and takes up his violin] Shall I play now, princess?

Soph. Yes, but do not think of me,—think of——

Vasil. I know. The great love.

[He plays, standing by window. Vera sits leaning against Sophie's lap. The princess gazes toward the door, and her look meets Adrian's as he enters. He crosses and stands by her chair. She reaches up and gives him her hand, which he clasps. Curtain]


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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