PETKOFF. That's right. (He pours some into his coffee.)(Catherine who has at this early hour made only a very perfunctory toilet, and wears a Bulgarian apron over a once brilliant, but now half worn out red dressing gown, and a colored handkerchief tied over her thick black hair, with Turkish slippers on her bare feet, comes from the house, looking astonishingly handsome and stately under all the circumstances. Louka goes into the house.)CATHERINE. My dear Paul, what a surprise for us. (She stoops over the back of his chair to kiss him.) Have they brought you fresh coffee?
PETKOFF. Yes, Louka's been looking after me. The war's over. The treaty was signed three days ago at Bucharest; and the decree for our army to demobilize was issued yesterday.
CATHERINE (springing erect, with flashing eyes). The war over!
Paul: have you let the Austrians force you to make peace?
PETKOFF (submissively). My dear: they didn't consult me. What could _I_ do? (She sits down and turns away from him.) But of course we saw to it that the treaty was an honorable one. It declares peace--CATHERINE (outraged). Peace!
PETKOFF (appeasing her).--but not friendly relations: remember that. They wanted to put that in; but I insisted on its being struck out. What more could I do?
CATHERINE. You could have annexed Servia and made Prince Alexander Emperor of the Balkans. That's what I would have done.
PETKOFF. I don't doubt it in the least, my dear. But I should have had to subdue the whole Austrian Empire first; and that would have kept me too long away from you. I missed you greatly.
CATHERINE (relenting). Ah! (Stretches her hand affectionately across the table to squeeze his.)PETKOFF. And how have you been, my dear?
CATHERINE. Oh, my usual sore throats, that's all.
PETKOFF (with conviction). That comes from washing your neck every day. I've often told you so.
CATHERINE. Nonsense, Paul!
PETKOFF (over his coffee and cigaret). I don't believe in going too far with these modern customs. All this washing can't be good for the health: it's not natural. There was an Englishman at Phillipopolis who used to wet himself all over with cold water every morning when he got up. Disgusting! It all comes from the English: their climate makes them so dirty that they have to be perpetually washing themselves. Look at my father: he never had a bath in his life; and he lived to be ninety-eight, the healthiest man in Bulgaria. I don't mind a good wash once a week to keep up my position; but once a day is carrying the thing to a ridiculous extreme.
CATHERINE. You are a barbarian at heart still, Paul. I hope you behaved yourself before all those Russian officers.
PETKOFF. I did my best. I took care to let them know that we had a library.
CATHERINE. Ah; but you didn't tell them that we have an electric bell in it? I have had one put up.
PETKOFF. What's an electric bell?
CATHERINE. You touch a button; something tinkles in the kitchen;and then Nicola comes up.
PETKOFF. Why not shout for him?
CATHERINE. Civilized people never shout for their servants. I've learnt that while you were away.
PETKOFF. Well, I'll tell you something I've learnt, too.
Civilized people don't hang out their washing to dry where visitors can see it; so you'd better have all that (indicating the clothes on the bushes) put somewhere else.
CATHERINE. Oh, that's absurd, Paul: I don't believe really refined people notice such things.
(Someone is heard knocking at the stable gates.)PETKOFF. There's Sergius. (Shouting.) Hollo, Nicola!
CATHERINE. Oh, don't shout, Paul: it really isn't nice.
PETKOFF. Bosh! (He shouts louder than before.) Nicola!
NICOLA (appearing at the house door). Yes, sir.
PETKOFF. If that is Major Saranoff, bring him round this way.
(He pronounces the name with the stress on the second syllable--Sarah-noff.)NICOLA. Yes, sir. (He goes into the stable yard.)PETKOFF. You must talk to him, my dear, until Raina takes him off our hands. He bores my life out about our not promoting him--over my head, mind you.
CATHERINE. He certainly ought to be promoted when he marries Raina. Besides, the country should insist on having at least one native general.
PETKOFF. Yes, so that he could throw away whole brigades instead of regiments. It's no use, my dear: he has not the slightest chance of promotion until we are quite sure that the peace will be a lasting one.
