BEATRICE—That’s right, my dear. [_Embraces her affectionately._] You are
a darling!
SYMPHOROSA—And you are the cleverest woman in the world.
BEATRICE—Only the cleverest in this room. [_SYMPHOROSA makes a gesture of
protest._] For in the next room is a cleverer woman than I: my daughter.
[_SYMPHOROSA sighs._] Don’t sigh. You’d do better to admire her poise
and tact. And the effect it has had. Albert remarked to me twice that
to-night for the first time he has begun to notice how beautiful she is.
He won’t go away to-morrow. Wait and see. And the day after to-morrow
his mother, Maria Dominica, will be here. [_Noticing SYMPHOROSA’S
impatience._] You are impatient, my dear. Well, go and signal to her.
[_SYMPHOROSA hurries off into the ballroom. BEATRICE watches her exit
with a contented smile, then looks around the room, sees CÆSAR._] Cæsar!
CÆSAR—Your highness.
BEATRICE—Is everything ready?
CÆSAR—Yes, your highness.
BEATRICE—The table?
CÆSAR—Seven covers. For his royal highness, the family, the adjutant and
the professor.
BEATRICE—You will be sure that the service is flawless.
CÆSAR—Your highness!
BEATRICE—What is the menu?
CÆSAR—Everything his royal highness likes. His excellency, Count
Luetzen, was good enough to indicate to me the dishes his royal highness
prefers for supper.
BEATRICE—What are they?
CÆSAR—Cold bouillon.
BEATRICE—Yes.
CÆSAR—Cold salmon.
BEATRICE—Yes.
CÆSAR—Cold beef.
BEATRICE—Yes.
CÆSAR—With his own mustard.
BEATRICE—His own mustard?
CÆSAR—With his royal highness’ own mustard.
BEATRICE—And what may that be?
CÆSAR—His royal highness carries his own mustard wherever he goes.
BEATRICE—That is a new custom!
CÆSAR—The chef says it is a very ancient custom. Eminent Greeks of olden
times always brought their own spices to the table of their host.
BEATRICE—Is the chef such a learned man?
CÆSAR—Yes, your highness. He also told me that the Greek gourmands used
to wear a protective shell over their tongues, which they only removed at
meal-times.
BEATRICE—[_Gives him a look of stern reproof._] I didn’t ask you that.
CÆSAR—No, your highness. I took the liberty of mentioning it as a
curiosity....
BEATRICE—You will only answer my questions.
CÆSAR—Yes, your highness. And cold chicken.
BEATRICE—What’s that?
CÆSAR—Cold chicken—after the beef.
BEATRICE—What time will supper be served?
CÆSAR—In twenty-four minutes, your highness. And an ice.
BEATRICE—The menu is too cold for me. In my cup you will serve hot tea,
without sugar.
CÆSAR—I am afraid, your highness, that hot tea may be distinguishable
from the cold bouillon ... by the vapor.
BEATRICE—You will see to it that the hot tea has no vapor.
CÆSAR—I don’t know just how that can be done, your highness, but it will
be.
BEATRICE—I shall expect it to be. [_CÆSAR steps back as SYMPHOROSA
re-enters._] Well?
SYMPHOROSA—I signaled to her.
BEATRICE—Yes.
SYMPHOROSA—And she stood up immediately.
BEATRICE—Good. Now go and see that Arsen puts those cold towels around
his neck.
SYMPHOROSA—What a perfect mother you are!
BEATRICE—There is no other joy on earth. [_SYMPHOROSA exits at left. She
addresses CÆSAR._] Where is supper to be served from?
CÆSAR—From here, your highness. [_He claps his hands twice. A procession
of servants enters, slowly, single-file. ALFRED, platter in hand, comes
first. After him come two lackeys, each carrying a platter, borne
ceremonially aloft. In the rear are two Hussars with champagne buckets.
ALFRED and the two lackeys go to the table and, their backs to the
audience, lay the three platters on the table. Simultaneously the two
Hussars deposit their buckets on the floor near the wall at right. Then
the Hussars take their station to the left of the right hand arch while
the two lackeys stand in profile between the arch and the doorway at
right. ALFRED stands between them, bowing._]
CÆSAR—Voilà!
BEATRICE—Bravo, Cæsar! [_She hurries off into the ballroom. CÆSAR bows
profoundly._]
CÆSAR—[_When the door has closed behind BEATRICE._] Hussars! [_The
Hussars come forward. He inspects them from head to foot._] Right about,
face! [_They obey the order. He adjusts their tunics._] Left face! [_They
obey._] Very good. [_The Hussars step back._] Alfred! [_ALFRED comes
forward slowly, and with dignity._] Son Altesse Royale Madame la Duchesse
prendra au lieu du consommé froid du thé chaud. Mais du thé chaud _non
fumant_. Le thé doit faire comme couleur absolument l’impression d’un
consommé froid.
ALFRED—Javoll! Sie können sich bestimmt auf mich verlassen. Alles wird in
Ordnung sein.
CÆSAR—Vabene mio caro, vabene, vabene, grazia, grazia. [_ALFRED exits,
followed by the two lackeys. The Hussars occupy themselves with the
wine buckets and bottles. CÆSAR supervises their activities and gives
them whispered orders. Meantime ALEXANDRA has entered back left. Behind
her, almost beside her, comes AGI. His demeanor is a curious mixture of
deferential formality and blissful intimacy._]
ALEXANDRA—Cæsar!
CÆSAR—Your highness.
ALEXANDRA—Is supper to be served in here?
CÆSAR—Yes, your highness. The guests will be served at small tables
in the yellow salon. His royal highness and the family in here. Her
highness, your mother, was here just a moment ago.
ALEXANDRA—Oh, then everything has been looked after. How soon will supper
be served?
CÆSAR—In seventeen minutes. Has your highness any orders?
ALEXANDRA—Nothing, thank you. [_CÆSAR returns to the wine buckets. At his
signal the Hussars exit. During the following scene CÆSAR is very busy
between the serving table and the supper table. But he is listening._]
AGI—May I escort you back to the ballroom?
ALEXANDRA—Please don’t.... I am afraid you misunderstood me. When I said
I was going in to look at the table ... I ... I didn’t mean for you to
come with me.