PATIOMKIN. Not now; but you will have: take my words for it. It will
strike you as a splendid idea to have conscientious scruples--to desire
the blessing of the Church on your union with Catherine.
EDSTASTON [racing in utter amazement]. My union with Catherine! You're
mad.
PATIOMKIN [unmoved]. The day you hint at such a thing will be the day of
your downfall. Besides, it is not lucky to be Catherine's husband. You
know what happened to Peter?
EDSTASTON [shortly; sitting down again]. I do not wish to discuss it.
PATIOMKIN. You think she murdered him?
EDSTASTON. I know that people have said so.
PATIOMKIN [thunderously; springing to his feet]. It is a lie: Orloff
murdered him. [Subsiding a little.] He also knocked my eye out; but
[sitting down placidly] I succeeded him for all that. And [patting
Edstaston's hand very affectionately] I'm sorry to say, darling, that if
you become Tsar, I shall murder you.
EDSTASTON [ironically returning the caress]. Thank you. The occasion
will not arise. [Rising.] I have the honor to wish your Highness good
morning.
PATIOMKIN [jumping up and stopping him on his way to the door]. Tut tut!
I'm going to take you to the Empress now, this very instant.
EDSTASTON. In these boots? Impossible! I must change.
PATIOMKIN. Nonsense! You shall come just as you are. You shall show her
your calves later on.