Arms and the Man
dexterously takes the photograph from the pocket and throws it on the
table before Bluntschli, who covers it with a sheet of paper under the
very nose of Sergius, who looks on amazed, with his suspicions roused
in the highest degree. She then helps Petkoff on with his coat._)
There, dear! Now are you comfortable?
PETKOFF.
Quite, little love. Thanks. (_He sits down; and Raina returns to her
seat near the stove._) Oh, by the bye, I’ve found something funny.
What’s the meaning of this? (_He put his hand into the picked pocket._)
Eh? Hallo! (_He tries the other pocket._) Well, I could have
sworn—(_Much puzzled, he tries the breast pocket._) I wonder—(_Tries
the original pocket._) Where can it—(_A light flashes on him; he rises,
exclaiming_) Your mother’s taken it.
RAINA.
(_very red_). Taken what?
PETKOFF.
Your photograph, with the inscription: “Raina, to her Chocolate Cream
Soldier—a souvenir.” Now you know there’s something more in this than
meets the eye; and I’m going to find it out. (_Shouting_) Nicola!
NICOLA.
(_dropping a log, and turning_). Sir!
PETKOFF.
Did you spoil any pastry of Miss Raina’s this morning?
NICOLA.
You heard Miss Raina say that I did, sir.
PETKOFF.
I know that, you idiot. Was it true?
NICOLA.
I am sure Miss Raina is incapable of saying anything that is not true,
sir.
PETKOFF.
Are you? Then I’m not. (_Turning to the others._) Come: do you think I
don’t see it all? (_Goes to Sergius, and slaps him on the shoulder._)
Sergius: you’re the chocolate cream soldier, aren’t you?
SERGIUS.
(_starting up_). I! a chocolate cream soldier! Certainly not.
PETKOFF.
Not! (_He looks at them. They are all very serious and very
conscious._) Do you mean to tell me that Raina sends photographic
souvenirs to other men?
SERGIUS.
(_enigmatically_). The world is not such an innocent place as we used
to think, Petkoff.
BLUNTSCHLI.
(_rising_). It’s all right, Major. I’m the chocolate cream soldier.
(_Petkoff and Sergius are equally astonished._) The gracious young lady
saved my life by giving me chocolate creams when I was starving—shall I
ever forget their flavour! My late friend Stolz told you the story at
Peerot. I was the fugitive.
PETKOFF.
You! (_He gasps._) Sergius: do you remember how those two women went on
this morning when we mentioned it? (_Sergius smiles cynically. Petkoff
confronts Raina severely._) You’re a nice young woman, aren’t you?
RAINA.
(_bitterly_). Major Saranoff has changed his mind. And when I wrote
that on the photograph, I did not know that Captain Bluntschli was
married.
BLUNTSCHLI.
(_much startled protesting vehemently_). I’m not married.
RAINA.
(_with deep reproach_). You said you were.
BLUNTSCHLI.
I did not. I positively did not. I never was married in my life.
PETKOFF.
(_exasperated_). Raina: will you kindly inform me, if I am not asking
too much, which gentleman you are engaged to?
RAINA.
To neither of them. This young lady (_introducing Louka, who faces them
all proudly_) is the object of Major Saranoff’s affections at present.
PETKOFF.
Louka! Are you mad, Sergius? Why, this girl’s engaged to Nicola.
NICOLA.
(_coming forward _). I beg your pardon, sir. There is a mistake. Louka
is not engaged to me.
PETKOFF.
Not engaged to you, you scoundrel! Why, you had twenty-five levas from
me on the day of your betrothal; and she had that gilt bracelet from
Miss Raina.
NICOLA.
(_with cool unction_). We gave it out so, sir. But it was only to give
Louka protection. She had a soul above her station; and I have been no
more than her confidential servant. I intend, as you know, sir, to set
up a shop later on in Sofia; and I look forward to her custom and
recommendation should she marry into the nobility. (_He goes out with
impressive discretion, leaving them all staring after him._)
PETKOFF.
(_breaking the silence_). Well, I am—-hm!
SERGIUS.
This is either the finest heroism or the most crawling baseness. Which
is it, Bluntschli?
BLUNTSCHLI.
Never mind whether it’s heroism or baseness. Nicola’s the ablest man
I’ve met in Bulgaria. I’ll make him manager of a hotel if he can speak
French and German.
LOUKA.
(_suddenly breaking out at Sergius_). I have been insulted by everyone
here. You set them the example. You owe me an apology. (_Sergius
immediately, like a repeating clock of which the spring has been
touched, begins to fold his arms._)
BLUNTSCHLI.
(_before he can speak_). It’s no use. He never apologizes.
LOUKA.
Not to you, his equal and his enemy. To me, his poor servant, he will
not refuse to apologize.
SERGIUS.
(_approvingly_). You are right. (_He bends his knee in his grandest
manner._) Forgive me!
LOUKA.
I forgive you. (_She timidly gives him her hand, which he kisses._)
That touch makes me your affianced wife.
SERGIUS.
(_springing up_). Ah, I forgot that!
LOUKA.
(_coldly_). You can withdraw if you like.
SERGIUS.
Withdraw! Never! You belong to me! (_He puts his arm about her and
draws her to him._) (_Catherine comes in and finds Louka in Sergius’s
arms, and all the rest gazing at them in bewildered astonishment._)
CATHERINE.
What does this mean? (_Sergius releases Louka._)
PETKOFF.
Well, my dear, it appears that Sergius is going to marry Louka instead
of Raina. (_She is about to break out indignantly at him: he stops her
by exclaiming testily._) Don’t blame me: I’ve nothing to do with it.
(_He retreats to the stove._)
CATHERINE.
Marry Louka! Sergius: you are bound by your word to us!
SERGIUS.
(_folding his arms_). Nothing binds me.
BLUNTSCHLI.
(_much pleased by this piece of common sense_). Saranoff: your hand. My
congratulations. These heroics of yours have their practical side after
all. (_To Louka._) Gracious young lady: the best wishes of a good
Republican! (_He kisses her hand, to Raina’s great disgust._)
CATHERINE.
(_threateningly_). Louka: you have been telling stories.
LOUKA.
I have done Raina no harm.
CATHERINE.
(_haughtily_). Raina! (_Raina is equally indignant at the liberty._)
LOUKA.
I have a right to call her Raina: she calls me Louka. I told Major
Saranoff she would never marry him if the Swiss gentleman came back.
BLUNTSCHLI.
(_surprised_). Hallo!
LOUKA.
(_turning to Raina_). I thought you were fonder of him than of Sergius.
You know best whether I was right.
BLUNTSCHLI.
What nonsense! I assure you, my dear Major, my dear Madame, the
gracious young lady simply saved my life, nothing else. She never cared
two straws for me. Why, bless my heart and soul, look at the young lady
and look at me. She, rich, young, beautiful, with her imagination full
of fairy princes and noble natures and cavalry charges and goodness
knows what! And I, a common-place Swiss soldier who hardly knows what a
decent life is after fifteen years of barracks and battles—a vagabond—a
man who has spoiled all his chances in life through an incurably
romantic disposition—a man—
SERGIUS.
(_starting as if a needle had pricked him and interrupting Bluntschli
in incredulous amazement_). Excuse me, Bluntschli: what did you say had
spoiled your chances in life?
BLUNTSCHLI.
(_promptly_). An incurably romantic disposition. I ran away from home
twice when I was a boy. I went into the army instead of into my
father’s business. I climbed the balcony of this house when a man of
sense would have dived into the nearest cellar. I came sneaking back
here to have another look at the young lady when any other man of my
age would have sent the coat back—
PETKOFF.
My coat!
BLUNTSCHLI.—Yes: that’s the coat I mean—would have sent it back and
gone quietly home. Do you suppose I am the sort of fellow a young girl
falls in love with? Why, look at our ages! I’m thirty-four: I don’t
suppose the young lady is much over seventeen. (_This estimate produces
a marked sensation, all the rest turning and staring at one another. He
proceeds innocently._) All that adventure which was life or death to
me, was only a schoolgirl’s game to her—chocolate creams and hide and
seek. Here’s the proof! (_He takes the photograph from the table._)
Now, I ask you, would a woman who took the affair seriously have sent
me this and written on it: “Raina, to her chocolate cream soldier—a
souvenir”? (_He exhibits the photograph triumphantly, as if it settled
the matter beyond all possibility of refutation._)
PETKOFF.
That’s what I was looking for. How the deuce did it get there?
BLUNTSCHLI.
(_to Raina complacently_). I have put everything right, I hope,
gracious young lady!
RAINA.
(_in uncontrollable vexation_). I quite agree with your account of
yourself. You are a romantic idiot. (_Bluntschli is unspeakably taken
aback._) Next time I hope you will know the difference between a
schoolgirl of seventeen and a woman of twenty-three.
BLUNTSCHLI.
(_stupefied_). Twenty-three! (_She snaps the photograph contemptuously
from his hand; tears it across; and throws the pieces at his feet._)
SERGIUS.
(_with grim enjoyment of Bluntschli’s discomfiture_). Bluntschli: my
one last belief is gone. Your sagacity is a fraud, like all the other
things. You have less sense than even I have.
BLUNTSCHLI.
(_overwhelmed_). Twenty-three! Twenty-three!! (_He considers._) Hm!
(_Swiftly making up his mind._) In that case, Major Petkoff, I beg to
propose formally to become a suitor for your daughter’s hand, in place
of Major Saranoff retired.
RAINA.
You dare!
BLUNTSCHLI.
If you were twenty-three when you said those things to me this
afternoon, I shall take them seriously.
CATHERINE.
(_loftily polite_). I doubt, sir, whether you quite realize either my
daughter’s position or that of Major Sergius Saranoff, whose place you
propose to take. The Petkoffs and the Saranoffs are known as the
richest and most important families in the country. Our position is
almost historical: we can go back for nearly twenty years.
PETKOFF.
Oh, never mind that, Catherine. (_To Bluntschli._) We should be most
happy, Bluntschli, if it were only a question of your position; but
hang it, you know, Raina is accustomed to a very comfortable
establishment. Sergius keeps twenty horses.
BLUNTSCHLI.
But what on earth is the use of twenty horses? Why, it’s a circus.
CATHERINE.
(_severely_). My daughter, sir, is accustomed to a first-rate stable.
RAINA.
Hush, mother, you’re making me ridiculous.
BLUNTSCHLI.
Oh, well, if it comes to a question of an establishment, here goes!
(_He goes impetuously to the table and seizes the papers in the blue
envelope._) How many horses did you say?
SERGIUS.
Twenty, noble Switzer!
BLUNTSCHLI.
I have two hundred horses. (_They are amazed._) How many carriages?
SERGIUS.
Three.
BLUNTSCHLI.
I have seventy. Twenty-four of them will hold twelve inside, besides
two on the box, without counting the driver and conductor. How many
tablecloths have you?
SERGIUS.
How the deuce do I know?
BLUNTSCHLI.
Have you four thousand?
SERGIUS.
NO.
BLUNTSCHLI.
I have. I have nine thousand six hundred pairs of sheets and blankets,
with two thousand four hundred eider-down quilts. I have ten thousand
knives and forks, and the same quantity of dessert spoons. I have six
hundred servants. I have six palatial establishments, besides two
livery stables, a tea garden and a private house. I have four medals
for distinguished services; I have the rank of an officer and the
standing of a gentleman; and I have three native languages. Show me any
man in Bulgaria that can offer as much.
PETKOFF.
(_with childish awe_). Are you Emperor of Switzerland?
BLUNTSCHLI.
My rank is the highest known in Switzerland: I’m a free citizen.
CATHERINE.
Then Captain Bluntschli, since you are my daughter’s choice, I shall
not stand in the way of her happiness. (_Petkoff is about to speak._)