Lords and Lovers, and Other Dramas

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]

[At close of song Adrian rises. Silence]

An old man. Speak, Adrian Lavrov.

Adr. Brothers, we have met to talk matters over.

Manlief. We have talked for seventy-five years!

A student. The lash spoke the last word to-day.

Old man. Speak, Adrian Lavrov.

Adr. Friends, the truth that was clear to you before the enemy's blow fell to-day is no less true now that the blow has fallen.

Manl. Not on your back, Lavrov.

A peasant. The lash of the Czar goes deeper than the words of the preacher.

Another. We have obeyed you until now, shepherd of Lonz.

Adr. [Gently] And you will obey me again.

Manl. You will obey the voice of your own manhood!

Adr. You will remember that you bear the leaven of the race, that you carry in your blood the universal peace.

Manl. Every beat of your hearts is telling you now to be men!

Adr. Submission is the only death-answer to violence. The world for very shame must cease to crucify Christ!

Gregorief. [Leaping up] Move your Sunday-school to the dungeons of Schlusselburg! Yes, I have been there. I was twenty years under the storm-waves of Lake Ladoga, and if your words could have reached me through the damp walls they would have received their true answer—a madman's answer. For torture does not give men the serenity of gods or preachers, Lavrov. Twenty years of the silence that welcomes the silence of death—twenty years of the loneliness that makes men pray for the joy of weeping together—twenty years with starving eyes on naked walls, while above me the great, wide seasons were going by—twenty years of void and gloom with the windy waters whipping my prison island, and all the more maddening because I could not hear them, because they too were a silent guard. I was like this boy [touching Vasil, who is leaning toward him listening intently] when they put me in, and I came out—as you see. [Laughs ironically] But I am fortunate. I left others behind me to whom those dark doors will never open, while I have the privilege of—dying above ground.

Adr. It makes no difference which side of a prison door the conquering spirit is on, Gregorief.

Greg. Ha! I wasn't a spirit then. They put me in while I was still in this life, where the flesh throbs and the blood sings. I was like this boy, I say, and I came out two months ago a broken consumptive wretch. You see me, Lavrov. Am I fit to leaven the race? I am what oppression makes, not the meek angels you dream about. Into my children will go the bitterness of the wronged to come out in hate, the feebleness of the broken man to come out in cunning, the stinging for revenge to come out in murder——

Adr. But if you had triumphed—the immortal you—what a soul you could bequeath to your country! O, one such could almost save her!

Greg. One! She has them by the thousand, everywhere thwarting us—their holy tears putting out our living fire as fast as we kindle it! [Laying his hands on Vasil] Ah, here is a spirit worth all your saints, Lavrov. Son, take up my torch as I drop it—my torch and sword, lad——

Vasil. [Eager and trembling] I am a singer, not a fighter.

Greg. Songs are good weapons. Write them for us, boy. Give us one to-night before the fire dies there. [Knocking Vasil's breast] A war-song——

Vasil. [Springing up] I will! A song from Schlusselburg!

[Rushes out, street door]

Adr. Are you the devil, Gregorief?

Greg. [Laughing] If I am I must have my legions. Did you intend my recruit for a saint, Lavrov? [Fervidly] I have sworn to level my prison before I die——

Adr. You have laid another stone upon it. There is but one power before which the prisons will forever fall—the power of the soul. Strike them down, and the blows that lay them low will raise them again for your children.

Greg. Fanaticism! You can not fit the laws of Heaven to the energies of earth, Lavrov! I tell you——

Galovkine. Leave this. We've no time. The burning of Yaltowa is fixed for to-morrow night.

Adr. [Dazed] The burning of Yaltowa!

Greg. Yes, Lavrov. Petrizoff intends to burn the town in our name. We are moving too fast toward the favor of the world, and must be repainted as red ogres.

Adr. Burn the town!

Manl. [Bitterly] That is not so bad a matter. What are a few thousand homes more or less in a country where no house is safe? The terrible part is the blow to the cause. Our great parties were never more united, never so ready for a telling stroke, and this horrible crime laid at the door of the revolutionists——

Adr. It must be prevented! We must act at once——

Manl. And get clapped into prison a little sooner. There is not time now for general action.

Adr. Burnt? The horror of it!

Greg. [Looking at Adrian] It can be prevented.

Adr. How?

Greg. Petrizoff is the whole plot, and he is not immortal.

Adr. [After a cold silence] You are a fool to say this to me, Gregorief.

Greg. Reserve your judgment till you know yourself better. Your heart is with us, Lavrov, in spite of your preaching.

Adr. Do you suppose I would quietly permit this murder?

Greg. Will you quietly permit Petrizoff's ten-thousand murders?

Adr. There is a difference.

Greg. Yes. We put one assassin to righteous death, he murders thousands of honest men.

Adr. [In same tone as before] There is a difference.

Greg. Your difference!

Adr. God's difference. The wicked may do their worst and the world still hope, but if the children of light borrow their weapons——

Greg. There is but one way to fight the devil!

Adr. If you use his own fire you must live in hell to do it.

Greg. And we don't live in hell now, I suppose!

Adr. Not an everlasting one. You have the selfishness of the living generation, Gregorief, that consumes as its candle the sun of the unborn.

Greg. Bah! Each generation must fight for its own breath.

Adr. Who conquers with a club will rule with a club. It is only through the enduring righteousness now taking deepest root in the night of oppression that true liberation will come, pushing upward to flower in the conscience of every man. When we are free from within, government will of itself fall away——

Greg. Anarchy!

Adr. Yes. Anarchy of the soul, not of the blood. The anarchy that Christ saw when he said the meek shall inherit the earth. This is the vision before me, the vision that I held before the bleeding bodies in Lonz to-day——

Greg. To the devil with your visions! Man will always be a worm while he crawls! It is those who have remembered their stature that have done most for the race. And I—from under their feet—with Death's hand upon me—I will remember mine!

[Galovkine, who is watching at the door, steps forward, lifting his hand in signal. Instantly the scene becomes one of merrymaking. A man who sits on shelf above stove begins fiddling, and a peasant dances a clog in the middle of the floor. Orloff enters, followed by two or three guards. Vetrova rises to meet them]

Vet. You are welcome.

Orl. A jolly ending to the day, good people.

Vet. We've reason to be merry, sir, as you know, who spared my lad this morning.

Cath. And you too, Petrovich.

Vet. Eh, but I don't count, mother.

Orl. 'Tis sporting time with us too. We are on our way to the officers' ball at Yaltowa. A little gayety after the hard work at Petoff. Glad to find you are not making more trouble for us.

Vet. We've had our lesson, sir.

Orl. [Suspiciously] And this happy meeting is to encourage yourselves in good intentions?

Vet. Sir, we are true men.

[Vasil suddenly appears in door, rear, waving a paper]

Vasil. I have it: The song is ready!

Adr. [Looking meaningly at Vasil] Don't be so sure of your first effort, my boy. Better let it get cold.

Orl. No, we'll hear it. That paper looks interesting.

Vasil. Pardon me. [Folds paper and puts it into his pocket]

Orl. I insist upon hearing it.

Vasil. [Taking paper out reluctantly] 'Tis merely a song, sir, and will hardly bear reading. I will sing it for you. [Unfolds paper slowly] A Welcome to Summer, friends. 'Tis an old chorus, and you can help me with it. [Sings]

[As the chorus is sung the last time, Vasil dances out among the peasants, who join hands with him and all move in a ring, singing]

Orl. I congratulate you. And now will you favor me with the copy?

Vasil. [Seeming to hesitate] 'Tis hardly worthy——

Orl. [Taking it] Leave that to me. [Glances disappointedly at song, repeating the first line] Humph! Yes ... [Puts it into his pocket] So you are all true men enjoying yourselves? I've no objection. On the contrary. I'm in the humor to join you if my lady Bright-eyes [looking at Vera] will honor me.

[Vera rises, curtsies, and couples spring up, forming a dance, Orloff and Vera leading]

Orl. [At close of the dance] Thank you, Bright-eyes. I shall find no fairer partner at the ball, whither I must be going. And here, young man. I will leave you your song. It may be your only copy. [Brings out several papers from his pocket and looks them over] Here is the song, but ... [Assumes sudden sternness] A serious matter. I have lost an important paper since I came into this room. [Looks searchingly at their faces] An important paper on official business. [All are silent, betraying no emotion. He turns his gaze to Vera, who is sitting by her grandfather] Ah, my little lady, perhaps your fingers were busy in the dance. Come forward, please.

[Vera steps out, bewildered]

Vera. I did not touch it.

Orl. Of course not. Now will you shake your scarf, please? Yes, I will do it for you. [Shakes her scarf and a paper drops to the floor. Orloff picks it up] Ah, found! Good, but rather a sad affair for you, little one. Even fingers so dainty as yours must not meddle with the Czar's papers.

Vera. I did not touch them!

Orl. Of course not. But you must come with me. [Mutterings from the men] I hear you, friends. If any of you want to come along just make it known. Our prisons are well stuffed, but we can manage to pack away all present.

Adr. [After a second of silence] The child is innocent.

Orl. O, you want to go, do you? But you happen to be the one we don't want—yet. Anybody else?

Vera. [Sobbing] I did not touch it.

Orl. You may tell that to Petrizoff. He is always kind to beauty.

Vera. [In terror] Am I going to him?

Orl. He will not be far away, I imagine.

Adr. You can not take this child. The paper was not stolen.

Orl. You saw it drop from her scarf.

Adr. Where you put it.

Orl. [In a rage] Your mouth will soon be shut! If I could have had my way this morning your hide wouldn't hold shucks to-night!

[Noise of a carriage at door. Sophie enters in ball dress. She draws back in astonishment at sight of Orloff]

Soph. [Faintly] You here?

Orl. And you?

Soph. [Composed] May I speak to you, Count Orloff?

Orl. At your service, your highness.

[They draw aside, left, front. The peasants talk in low tones. Guards stand by Vera]

Soph. Of course I know why you are here, but I had to simulate surprise.

Orl. You were very successful.

Soph. Since the exposure of this morning the people are ready to suspect me, and I must retain their confidence or my usefulness is at an end.

Orl. Quite.

Soph. They heard to-day of the girl's danger, and were planning her escape, so I, not knowing whether you would arrive in time, stopped—to——

Orl. Yes?

Soph. Quiet their fears and assure them of her safety. Are there any prisoners besides the girl?

Orl. No, but I would give something to take this insolent Shepherd. I've only a few hours to wait though.

Soph. A few hours?

Orl. Yes—ah, you don't know everything then!

Soph. Dear man, I know everything but one,—that is, how much you know. If you will go to the ball in my carriage we may find out how far we can trust each other.

Orl. Angel!

Soph. Don't! The people—you must pretend to oppose me. They think I am interceding for the girl.

Orl. [As if suddenly recalling something] Why did you save the boy this morning?

Soph. I will explain that too—in the carriage. We must go now. I first, so they will not know we leave together.

Orl. [Crestfallen] I promised Petrizoff not to leave the girl till I had her safe in prison. There have been so many escapes——

Soph. [With a glance at Vera] She is pretty. Good-evening then.

Orl. Wait—I will go with you!

Soph. [Melting] Will you? Then you sha'n't. You shall take no risks for me.

Orl. Risk! I would risk anything. Ah, you can't deprive me now.

Soph. Can you trust the guards?

Orl. I will trust them!

Soph. Very well. I will wait for you. [Going, stops before Adrian] I have not been able to obtain her release, but I am sure there is hope. At least I have touched Colonel Orloff's heart. Have I not, Count?

Orl. You have indeed!

Soph. [Looking steadily at Adrian] And you will hear news of great importance before morning. [To Orloff] Will he not?

Orl. Without doubt, your highness.

Soph. [Going, again turns to Adrian] The Count will give you his word that I am to be trusted.

Orl. To be sure, your highness.

Soph. Good-night. [Exit]

Orl. [After following Sophie's departure with a fatuous look] Come, lady-bird, we must be moving. [Starts out, the guards following with Vera. Vetrova, who has seemed quite stunned, suddenly rushes after them and beats guards with his crutch]

Orl. [Seizing him by the collar and throwing him to the floor] You old fool! We don't want to bother with you!

[Exeunt Orloff, guards and Vera. Vetrova, lying on floor, lifts his fist and curses]

Adr. [Bending over him] Petrusha!

Vet. Let me be, Adrian Lavrov! I have held my peace all my life to die cursing at last! I was dumb when they broke my bones under the rod. I was dumb when my son died under the lash. But Vera, my little girl—dragged to that—O God, send thy fires upon him! Curse him—curse him—curse——[Dies. The peasants cross themselves. Some kneel before the icon, praying. Catherine gazes at Vetrova in hopeless terror. Galovkine kneels and examines the body]

Galovkine. Dead.

Cath. Dead—and a curse on his lips. My Petrusha—dead—and a curse on his lips.

[Two men pick up the body and bear it off right centre, Adrian opening the door. Catherine follows with several women. The other peasants go off silently, street door, leaving only Adrian, Vasil and the revolutionists]

Greg. As I was saying when—the Czar interrupted us—Petrizoff must die. And you will help us, Lavrov. Yes—you must! You say yourself that our best hope lies in sympathy and sentiment——

Adr. Which the bomb utterly destroys.

Greg. Not when the Shepherd throws it. Wait! I do not mean that literally, for this [raising his hand] is the consecrated hand. But your name as our leader would sanctify the deed.

Adr. Your leader?

Greg. Yes. Not only for this, but for our army. Your name is a divine word in every peasant home in Russia. It is cheered by every body of workmen gathered together to-night, and in the army who would not surrender the colors of Romanov to the hero line of Donskoi?

Adr. [Starting] Gregorief——

Greg. Wait! They are all ready now. The peasantry, inspired by the teaching of our martyrs for the last thirty years,—the nobility with awakened conscience,—the workmen, one great body with suspended arms,—the army of the Czar ready to become the army of the people,—all await their leader—you! [A pause] Russia is looking but one way—to freedom. To-day you may lead us to victory almost without blood. Let Petrizoff commit this crime in the name of liberty, and to-morrow we shall be like the scattered limbs of a dissevered body. You will not let this be, Lavrov. You will——

Adr. No! Let civilization wait another century rather than deliver her flag to the hands of murderers!

Greg. And where is it now if not in the hands of murderers?

Adr. It is not in their hands, Gregorief, but in ours, that are yet clean. Do this thing, and it is you, not Petrizoff, who give the greatest blow to freedom. The world is just beginning to understand us——

Greg. Yes! Where is that understanding growing strongest? In America. And how does the autocracy propose to meet this new influence? By a secret commercial treaty with the United States. Give any government a pocket interest in the security of another and to the winds with sympathy! Petrizoff has his agents there now, and the burning of Yaltowa is only a part of his scheme to chill the hearts that are warming to us. But he shall not live to do it. You will not let him live, Lavrov. My God, don't you see that your opportunity has come?

Adr. Yes. My opportunity to point once more to where the sun shall rise.

Greg. The sun never rises on the blind. You would throw us back into night for another thousand years!

Adr. What are a thousand years to the soul of man on the right path to the right thing?

Galovkine. [Plucking at Gregorief] Come away. We lose time here.

Greg. Not until I tell this fool where he stands! You imagine, Lavrov, that you are a friend to freedom, but a greater enemy does not tread Russian soil. Why does the government leave you at work? Because of your power to subdue the spirit in men. It is you—such as you—who forget our shackles and fill the prisons. But thank the Powers that keep the race alive, there are still some of us who believe in manhood—in the virtues of the heart as well as the soul—in courage, honor, justice! [To the others] Come up to Breshloff's. We will finish there.

[Enter Korelenko hurriedly]

Greg. [Grasping his hand] Korelenko! The word? What is it?

Kore. What you wished. We needed only the consent of the Social Democrats to Petrizoff's death——

Greg. Yes, yes!

Kore. And I have brought their sanction——

Greg. [Almost sobbing] Thank God!

Kore. If it is done under the leadership of the Shepherd of Lonz.

[Adrian staggers back against loom]

Greg. [Clutching Korelenko] Take back that infernal proviso!

Kore. I thought you wished it.

Greg. I did, when I believed the man there was human.

Kore. He is. The most human of us all. You don't know him. Adrian, you see that all depends upon you——

Adr. [Waving him away] Begone—all of you!

Manl. Come! God gave us good right arms. We need not wait for Lavrov's.

Kore. But can we do without the Social Democrats?

Greg. Yes! We have the others. Come to Breshloff's!

[All go except Korelenko, who lingers in the door. Adrian sits exhausted on bench before loom]

Adr. Sasha?

Kore. [Turning back quickly] Well?

Adr. You have chosen?

Kore. Between my friends and my enemies? Yes.

Adr. Between the body and the soul.

Kore. Soul! There is none in Russia. When we get possession of our bodies we may be permitted to cultivate souls!

Adr. If you would wait a little, Sasha. Reforms are coming. The Czar will grant a constitution——

Kore. He will grant what we take, no more. And what do we gain if he gives us a constitution and keeps his army? If he gives us schools and exiles the teachers? If he gives us freedom and denies it to the men who have won it—our brothers in the dungeons? No, we want our constitution, not the Czar's—a constitution with law and justice behind it, not an army.

Adr. Is it time? There is so much ignorance yet——

Kore. Ignorance! Where is it greater than among our masters? We suffer as much from their stupidity as their oppression. I hate the ass's head more than the tyrant's!

Adr. But the poor, illiterate peasants. Are they ready——

Kore. Viatka and Perm answer that! There, where they have been let alone, they have established the best governed provinces in Russia. But here, where ignorance is protected—do you know what will happen if Yaltowa is burnt? The peasants of Karitz will be led into the town to pillage and slaughter in the name of Christ.

Adr. [In horror] Karitz! My poor people! I must go there at once.

Kore. There? It is only because you are here that Lonz will not be led into it. [Ironically] Since you can't be everywhere, hadn't we better devise some other means for the protection of the people?

Adr. O, it is horrible!

Kore. More horrible than you dream. A good man can not know how bad the world is, for he can never get away from himself.

[Re-enter Manlief]

Manl. Come, Korelenko. We shall be too late.

Adr. He is not going.

Manl. No? I'll stiffen his heart. You don't know, do you, that your little Vera has been taken to Petrizoff?

Kore. [Stares in amazement, and clutches Adrian] Is this a lie?

Adr. She has been arrested.

Kore. You let her be taken?

Adr. I had no choice.

Kore. There is always a choice. You could have killed her. [Breaks down]

Manl. [Touching him] Come.

Kore. Yes! Go on! I'll come!

Manl. At Breshloff's. [Exit]

Kore. [Savagely, starting up] You would save his life knowing that!

Adr. What has Vera's misfortune—yours—mine—to do with an eternal principle?

Kore. Damn your principle! It will put us all into hell!

Adr. The princess may be able to do something for her. She——

Kore. You still believe in that spy? [Adrian is silent. Korelenko looks at him] Forgive me. You love her. No! If you knew what love is you would help me!

Adr. [Going to him as he reaches the door] Wait. I do know. I love her even as you love Vera, and I swear to you that if she stood in Vera's place my answer would be the same.

Kore. [Abstractedly] You love her. [Starts suddenly away]

Adr. You will stay now, Sasha?

Kore. Now? No. There is something to do now. [Exit]

Adr. Light, light, O my God! [Door opens, right centre, and a woman appears]

Woman. Can you come to Catherine Vetrova now, sir?

[Adrian bows his head and follows her out. Vasil, who has been sitting behind the little table rear, at times listening eagerly, at times overcome, rises and moves slowly forward, carrying his violin]

Vasil. [Repeats softly] "As impersonal as the universe."

[Strikes two or three notes on the violin and stops, terrified. Dashes the instrument down and throws himself to the floor, sobbing] O, Vera! Vera! Vera!

[Curtain]