60 Plays: The George Bernard Shaw Edition (Illustrated). GEORGE BERNARD SHAW
Oh, you must withdraw it!
SERGIUS (with resolute, measured emphasis, folding his arms). I never withdraw!
PETKOFF (vexed). Now who could have supposed you were going to do such a thing?
SERGIUS (with fire). Everyone that knew me. But enough of myself and my affairs. How is Raina; and where is Raina?
RAINA (suddenly coming round the corner of the house and standing at the top of the steps in the path). Raina is here. (She makes a charming picture as they all turn to look at her. She wears an underdress of pale green silk, draped with an overdress of thin ecru canvas embroidered with gold. On her head she wears a pretty Phrygian cap of gold tinsel. Sergius, with an exclamation of pleasure, goes impulsively to meet her. She stretches out her hand: he drops chivalrously on one knee and kisses it.)
PETKOFF (aside to Catherine, beaming with parental pride). Pretty, isn’t it? She always appears at the right moment.
CATHERINE (impatiently). Yes: she listens for it. It is an abominable habit.
(Sergius leads Raina forward with splendid gallantry, as if she were a queen. When they come to the table, she turns to him with a bend of the head; he bows; and thus they separate, he coming to his place, and she going behind her father’s chair.)
RAINA (stooping and kissing her father). Dear father! Welcome home!
PETKOFF (patting her cheek). My little pet girl. (He kisses her; she goes to the chair left by Nicola for Sergius, and sits down.)
CATHERINE. And so you’re no longer a soldier, Sergius.
SERGIUS. I am no longer a soldier. Soldiering, my dear madam, is the coward’s art of attacking mercilessly when you are strong, and keeping out of harm’s way when you are weak. That is the whole secret of successful fighting. Get your enemy at a disadvantage; and never, on any account, fight him on equal terms. Eh, Major!
PETKOFF. They wouldn’t let us make a fair stand-up fight of it. However, I suppose soldiering has to be a trade like any other trade.
SERGIUS. Precisely. But I have no ambition to succeed as a tradesman; so I have taken the advice of that bagman of a captain that settled the exchange of prisoners with us at Peerot, and given it up.
PETKOFF. What, that Swiss fellow? Sergius: I’ve often thought of that exchange since. He overreached us about those horses.
SERGIUS. Of course he overreached us. His father was a hotel and livery stable keeper; and he owed his first step to his knowledge of horsedealing. (With mock enthusiasm.) Ah, he was a soldier — every inch a soldier! If only I had bought the horses for my regiment instead of foolishly leading it into danger, I should have been a field-marshal now!
CATHERINE. A Swiss? What was he doing in the Servian army?
PETKOFF. A volunteer of course — keen on picking up his profession. (Chuckling.) We shouldn’t have been able to begin fighting if these foreigners hadn’t shewn us how to do it: we knew nothing about it; and neither did the Servians. Egad, there’d have been no war without them.
RAINA. Are there many Swiss officers in the Servian Army?
PETKOFF. No — all Austrians, just as our officers were all Russians. This was the only Swiss I came across. I’ll never trust a Swiss again. He cheated us — humbugged us into giving him fifty able bodied men for two hundred confounded worn out chargers. They weren’t even eatable!
SERGIUS. We were two children in the hands of that consummate soldier, Major: simply two innocent little children.
RAINA. What was he like?
CATHERINE. Oh, Raina, what a silly question!
SERGIUS. He was like a commercial traveller in uniform. Bourgeois to his boots.
PETKOFF (grinning). Sergius: tell Catherine that queer story his friend told us about him — how he escaped after Slivnitza. You remember? — about his being hid by two women.
SERGIUS (with bitter irony). Oh, yes, quite a romance. He was serving in the very battery I so unprofessionally charged. Being a thorough soldier, he ran away like the rest of them, with our cavalry at his heels. To escape their attentions, he had the good taste to take refuge in the chamber of some patriotic young Bulgarian lady. The young lady was enchanted by his persuasive commercial traveller’s manners. She very modestly entertained him for an hour or so and then called in her mother lest her conduct should appear unmaidenly. The old lady was equally fascinated; and the fugitive was sent on his way in the morning, disguised in an old coat belonging to the master of the house, who was away at the war.
RAINA (rising with marked stateliness). Your life in the camp has made you coarse, Sergius. I did not think you would have repeated such a story before me. (She turns away coldly.)
CATHERINE (also rising). She is right, Sergius. If such women exist, we should be spared the knowledge of them.
PETKOFF. Pooh! nonsense! what does it matter?
SERGIUS (ashamed). No, Petkoff: I was wrong. (To Raina, with earnest humility.) I beg your pardon. I have behaved abominably. Forgive me, Raina. (She bows reservedly.) And you, too, madam. (Catherine bows graciously and sits down. He proceeds solemnly, again addressing Raina.) The glimpses I have had of the seamy side of life during the last few months have made me cynical; but I should not have brought my cynicism here — least of all into your presence, Raina. I — (Here, turning to the others, he is evidently about to begin a long speech when the Major interrupts him.)
PETKOFF. Stuff and nonsense, Sergius. That’s quite enough fuss about nothing: a soldier’s daughter should be able to stand up without flinching to a little strong conversation. (He rises.) Come: it’s time for us to get to business. We have to make up our minds how those three regiments are to get back to Phillipopolis: — there’s no forage for them on the Sofia route. (He goes towards the house.) Come along. (Sergius is about to follow him when Catherine rises and intervenes.)
CATHERINE. Oh, Paul, can’t you spare Sergius for a few moments? Raina has hardly seen him yet. Perhaps I can help you to settle about the regiments.
SERGIUS (protesting). My dear madam, impossible: you —
CATHERINE (stopping him playfully). You stay here, my dear Sergius: there’s no hurry. I have a word or two to say to Paul. (Sergius instantly bows and steps back.) Now, dear (taking Petkoff’s arm), come and see the electric bell.
PETKOFF. Oh, very well, very well. (They go into the house together affectionately. Sergius, left alone with Raina, looks anxiously at her, fearing that she may be still offended. She smiles, and stretches out her arms to him.)
(Exit R. into house, followed by Catherine.)
SERGIUS (hastening to her, but refraining from touching her without express permission). Am I forgiven?
RAINA (placing her hands on his shoulder as she looks up at him with admiration and worship). My hero! My king.
SERGIUS. My queen! (He kisses her on the forehead with holy awe.)
RAINA. How I have envied you, Sergius! You have been out in the world, on the field of battle, able to prove yourself there worthy of any woman in the world; whilst I have had to sit at home inactive, — dreaming — useless — doing nothing that could give me the right to call myself worthy of any man.
SERGIUS. Dearest, all my deeds have been yours. You inspired me. I have gone through the war like a knight in a tournament with his lady looking on at him!
RAINA. And you have never been absent from my thoughts for a moment. (Very solemnly.) Sergius: I think we two have found the higher love. When I think of you, I feel that I could never do a base deed, or think an ignoble thought.
SERGIUS. My lady, and my saint! (Clasping her reverently.)
RAINA (returning his embrace). My lord and my g —
SERGIUS. Sh — sh! Let me be the worshipper, dear. You little know how unworthy even the best man is of a girl’s pure passion!
RAINA.