The Second Scene - Page 2

to my
presence; and when I say a gracious word to you, you talk about
it to everyone you meet for a week afterwards. But what do I get
out of it? Nothing. [She throws herself into the chair. Naryshkin
deprecates with a gesture; she hurls an emphatic repetition at
him.] Nothing!! I wear a crown until my neck aches: I stand
looking majestic until I am ready to drop: I have to smile at
ugly old ambassadors and frown and turn my back on young and
handsome ones. Nobody gives me anything. When I was only an
Archduchess, the English ambassador used to give me money
whenever I wanted it--or rather whenever he wanted to get
anything out of my sacred predecessor Elizabeth [the Court bows
to the ground]; but now that I am Empress he never gives me a
kopek. When I have headaches and colics I envy the scullerymaids.
And you are not a bit grateful to me for all my care of you, my
work, my thought, my fatigue, my sufferings.

THE PRINCESS DASHKOFF. God knows, Little Mother, we all implore
you to give your wonderful brain a rest. That is why you get
headaches. Monsieur Voltaire also has headaches. His brain is
just like yours.

CATHERINE. Dashkoff, what a liar you are! [Dashkoff curtsies with
impressive dignity.] And you think you are flattering me! Let me
tell you I would not give a rouble to have the brains of all the
philosophers in France. What is our business for today?

NARYSHKIN. The new museum, Little Mother. But the model will not
be ready until tonight.

CATHERINE [rising eagerly]. Yes, the museum. An enlightened
capital should have a museum. [She paces the chamber with a deep
sense of the importance of the museum.] It shall be one of the
wonders of the world. I must have specimens: specimens,
specimens, specimens.

NARYSHKIN. You are in high spirits this morning, Little Mother.

CATHERINE [with sudden levity.] I am always in high spirits, even
when people do not bring me my slippers. [She runs to the chair
and sits down, thrusting her feet out.]

The two ladies rush to her feet, each carrying a slipper.
Catherine, about to put her feet into them, is checked by a
disturbance in the antechamber.

PATIOMKIN [carrying Edstaston through the antechamber]. Useless
to struggle. Come along, beautiful baby darling. Come to Little
Mother. [He sings.]

March him baby,
Baby, baby,
Lit-tle ba-by bumpkins.

VARINKA [joining in to the same doggerel in canon, a third
above]. March him, baby, etc., etc.

EDSTASTON [trying to make himself heard]. No, no. This is
carrying a joke too far. I must insist. Let me down! Hang it,
will you let me down! Confound it! No, no. Stop playing the fool,
will you? We don't understand this sort of thing