Delphi Complete Works of Oscar Wilde (Illustrated) (9 page)

Pres.
Ay, Prince Paul, that is the best way. Vera, the Czar
sleeps to-night in his own room in the north wing of the palace. Here is the key of the private door in the street. The passwords of the guards will be given to you. His own servants will be drugged. You will find him alone.

Vera.
It is well. I shall not fail.

Pres.
We will wait outside in the Place St. Isaac, under the window. As the clock strikes twelve from the tower of St. Nicholas you will give us the sign that the dog is dead.

Vera.
And what shall the sign be?

Pres.
You are to throw us out the bloody dagger.

Mich.
Dripping with the traitor’s life.

Pres.
Else we shall know that you have been seized, and we will burst our way in, drag you from his guards.

Mich.
And kill him in the midst of them.

Pres.
Michael, you will head us?

Mich.
Ay, I shall head you. See that your hand fails not, Vera Sabouroff.

Vera.
Fool, is it so hard a thing to kill one’s enemy.

Prince Paul
(
aside
). This is the ninth conspiracy I have been in in Russia. They always end in a “voyage en Siberie” for my friends and a new decoration for myself.

Mich.
It is your last conspiracy, Prince.

Pres.
At twelve o’clock, the bloody dagger.

Vera.
Ay, red with the blood of that false heart. I shall not forget it. (
Standing in the middle of the stage.
)
To strangle whatever nature is in me, neither to love nor to be loved,
neither
to pity nor to be pitied. Ay! it is an oath, an oath. Methinks the spirit of Charlotte Corday has entered my soul now. I shall carve my name on the world, and be ranked among the great heroines. Ay! the spirit of Charlotte Corday beats in each petty vein, and nerves my woman’s hand to strike, as I have nerved my woman’s heart to hate. Though he laughs in his dreams, I shall not falter. Though he
sleep
peacefully I shall not miss my blow.
Be glad, my brother, in your stifled cell; be glad and laugh to-night. To-night this new-fledged Czar shall post with bloody feet to Hell, and greet his father there!
This Czar! O traitor, liar, false to his oath, false to me! To play the patriot amongst us, and now to wear a crown; to sell us, like Judas, for thirty silver pieces, to betray us with a kiss!
(
With more passion.
) O Liberty, O mighty mother of eternal time, thy robe is purple with the blood of those who have died for thee! Thy throne is the Calvary of the people, thy crown the crown of thorns. O crucified mother, the despot has driven a nail through thy right hand, and the tyrant through thy left! Thy feet are pierced with their iron. When thou wert athirst thou calledst on the priests for water, and they gave thee bitter drink. They thrust a sword into thy side. They mocked thee in thine agony of age on age.
Here, on thy altar, O Liberty, do I dedicate myself to thy service; do with me as thou wilt!
(
Brandishing dagger.
) The end has come now, and by thy sacred wounds, O crucified mother, O Liberty, I swear that Russia shall be saved!

CURTAIN.

End Of Act III.

ACT IV
.

Scene.
—
Antechamber of the
Czar’s
private room. Large window at the back, with drawn curtains over it.

Present.
—
Prince Petrovitch, Baron Raff, Marquis de Poivrard, Count Rouvaloff.

Prince Petro.
He is beginning well, this young Czar.

Baron Raff
(
shrugs his shoulders
). All young Czars do begin well.

Count R.
And end badly.

Marq.
de Poiv.
Well, I have no right to complain. He has done me one good service, at any rate.

Prince Petro.
Cancelled your appointment to Archangel, I suppose?

Marq.
de Poiv.
Yes; my head wouldn’t have been safe there for an hour.

(
Enter
General Kotemkin
.
)

Baron Raff.
Ah! General, any more news of our romantic Emperor?

Gen.
Kotemk.
You are quite right to call him romantic, Baron; a week ago I found him amusing himself in a garret with a company of strolling players; to-day his whim is all the convicts in Siberia are to be recalled, and political prisoners, as he calls them, amnestied.

Prince Petro.
Political prisoners! Why, half of them are no better than common murderers!

Count R.
And the other half much worse?

Baron Raff.
Oh, you wrong them, surely, Count. Wholesale trade has always been more respectable than retail.

Count R.
But he is really too romantic. He objected yesterday to my having the monopoly of the salt tax. He said the people had a right to have cheap salt.

Marq.
de Poiv.
Oh, that’s nothing; but he actually disapproved of a State banquet every night because there is a famine in the Southern provinces. (
The young
Czar
enters unobserved, and overhears the rest.
)

Prince Petro.
Quelle bétise! The more starvation there is among the people, the better. It teaches them self-denial, an excellent virtue, Baron, an excellent virtue.

Baron Raff.
I have often heard so; I have often heard so.

Gen.
Kotemk.
He talked of a Parliament, too, in Russia, and said the people should have deputies to represent them.

Baron Raff.
As if there was not enough brawling in the streets already, but we must give the people a room to do it in. But, Messieurs, the worst is yet to come. He threatens a complete reform in the public service on the ground that the people are too heavily taxed.

Marq.
de Poiv.
He can’t be serious there. What is the use of the people except
to get money out of? But talking of taxes, my dear Baron, you must really let me have forty thousand roubles to-morrow? my wife says she must have a new diamond bracelet.

Count R.
(
aside to
Baron Raff
). Ah, to match the one Prince Paul gave her last week, I suppose.

Prince Petro.
I must have sixty thousand roubles at once, Baron. My son is overwhelmed with debts of honour which he can’t pay.

Baron Raff.
What an excellent son to imitate his father so carefully!

Gen.
Kotemk.
You are always getting money. I never get a single kopeck I have not got a right to. It’s unbearable; it’s ridiculous! My nephew is going to be married. I must get his dowry for him.

Prince Petro.
My dear General, your nephew must be a perfect Turk. He seems to get married three times a week regularly.

Gen.
Kot.
Well, he wants a dowry to console him.

Count R.
I am sick of town. I want a house in the country.

Marq.
de Poiv.
I am sick of the country. I want a house in town.

Baron Raff.
Mes amis, I am extremely sorry for you. It is out of the question.

Prince Petro.
But my son, Baron?

Gen.
Kotemk.
But my nephew?

Marq.
de Poiv.
But my house in town?

Count R.
But my house in the country?

Marq.
de Poiv.
But my wife’s diamond bracelet?

Baron Raff.
Gentlemen, impossible! The old
regime
in Russia is dead; the funeral begins to-day.

Count R.
Then I shall wait for the resurrection.

Prince Petro.
Yes, but,
en attendant
, what are we to do?

Baron Raff.
What have we always done in Russia when a Czar suggests reforms? — nothing. You forget we are diplomatists. Men of thought should have nothing to do with action. Reforms in Russia are very tragic, but they always end in a farce.

Count R.
I wish Prince Paul were here.
By the bye, I think this boy is rather ungrateful to him. If that clever old Prince had not proclaimed him Emperor at once without giving him time to think about it, he would have given up his crown, I believe, to the first cobbler he met in the street.

Prince Petro.
But do you think,
Baron, that
Prince Paul is really going?

Baron Raff.
He is exiled.

Prince Petro.
Yes; but is he going?

Baron Raff.
I am sure of it; at least he told me he had sent two telegrams already to Paris about his dinner.

Count R.
Ah! that settles the matter.

Czar
(
coming forward
). Prince Paul better send a third telegram and order (
counting them
) six extra places.

Baron Raff.
The devil!

Czar.
No, Baron, the Czar. Traitors! There would be no bad kings in the world if there were no bad ministers like you. It is men such as you who wreck mighty empires on the rock of their own greatness. Our mother, Russia, hath no need of such unnatural sons. You can make no atonement now; it is too late for that. The grave cannot give back your dead, nor the gibbet your martyrs, but I shall be more merciful to you. I give you your lives! That is the curse I would lay on you. But if there is a man of you found in Moscow by to-morrow night your heads will be off your shoulders.

Baron Raff.
You remind us wonderfully, Sire, of your Imperial father.

Czar.
I banish you all from Russia. Your estates are confiscated to the people. You may carry your titles with you. Reforms in Russia, Baron, always end in a farce. You will have a good opportunity, Prince Petrovitch, of practising self-denial, that excellent virtue! that excellent virtue! So, Baron, you think a Parliament in Russia would be merely a place for brawling. Well, I will see that the reports of each session are sent to you regularly.

Baron Raff.
Sire, you are adding another horror to exile.

Czar.
But you will have such time for literature now. You forget you are diplomatists. Men of thought should have nothing to do with action.

Prince Petro.
Sire, we did but jest.

Czar.
Then I banish you for your bad jokes. Bon voyage, Messieurs.
If you value your lives you will catch the first train for Paris. (
Exeunt
Ministers
.
) Russia is well rid of such men as these. They are the jackals that follow in the lion’s track.
They have no courage themselves, except to pillage and rob.
But for these men and for Prince Paul my father would have been a good king, would not have died so horribly as he did die. How strange it is, the most real parts of one’s life always seem to be a dream! The council, the fearful law which was to kill the people, the arrest, the cry in the courtyard, the pistol-shot, my father’s bloody hands, and then the crown! One can live for years sometimes, without living at all, and then all life comes crowding into a single hour. I had no time to think. Before my father’s hideous shriek of death had died in my ears I found this crown on my head, the purple robe around me, and heard myself called a king. I would have given it up all then; it seemed nothing to me then; but now, can I give it up now? Well, Colonel, well? (
Enter
Colonel of the Guard
.
)

Colonel.
What password does your Imperial Majesty desire should be given to-night?

Czar.
Password?

Colonel.
For the cordon of
guards, Sire, on night duty around the palace.

Czar.
You can dismiss them. I have no need of them. (
Exit
Colonel
.
) (
Goes to the crown lying on the table.
) What subtle potency lies hidden in this gaudy bauble, the
crown,
that
makes one feel like a god when one wears it? To hold in one’s hand this little fiery coloured world, to reach out one’s arm to earth’s uttermost limit, to girdle the seas with one’s hosts; this is to wear a crown! to wear a crown! The meanest serf in Russia who is loved is better crowned than I. How love outweighs the balance! How poor appears the widest empire of this golden world when matched with love! Pent up in this palace, with spies dogging every step, I have heard nothing of her; I have not seen her once since that fearful hour three days ago, when I found myself suddenly the Czar of this wide waste, Russia. Oh, could I see her for a moment; tell her now the secret of my life I have never dared utter before; tell her why I wear this crown, when I have sworn eternal war against all crowned men! There was a meeting to-night. I received my summons by an unknown hand; but how could I go? I who have broken my oath! who have broken my oath!

(
Enter
Page
.
)

Page.
It is after eleven, Sire. Shall I take the first watch in your room to-night?

Czar.
Why should you watch me, boy? The stars are my best sentinels.

Page.
It was your Imperial father’s wish, Sire, never to be left alone while he slept.

Czar.
My father was troubled with bad dreams. Go, get to your bed, boy; it is nigh on midnight, and these late hours will spoil those red cheeks. (
Page
tries to kiss his hand.
) Nay, nay; we have played together too often as children for that. Oh, to breathe the same air as her, and not to see her! the light seems to have gone from my life, the sun vanished from my day.

Page.
Sire, — Alexis, — let me stay with
you to-night! There is some danger over you; I feel there is.

Czar.
What should I fear? I have banished all my enemies from Russia. Set the brazier here, by me; it is very cold, and I would sit by it for a time. Go, boy, go; I have much to think about to-night. (
Goes to back of stage, draws aside curtain. View of Moscow by moonlight.
) The snow has fallen heavily since sunset. How white and cold my city looks under this pale moon! And yet, what hot and fiery hearts beat in this icy Russia, for all its frost and snow! Oh, to see her for a moment; to tell her all; to tell her why I am a king! But she does not doubt me; she said she would trust in me. Though I have broken my oath, she will have trust. It is very cold. Where is my cloak? I shall sleep for an hour. Then I have ordered my sledge, and, though I die for it, I shall see Vera to-night. Did I not bid thee go, boy? What! must I play the tyrant so soon? Go, go! I cannot live without seeing her. My horses will be here in an hour; one hour between me and love! How heavy this charcoal fire smells. (
Exit the
Page.
Lies down on a couch beside brazier.
)