HYACINTH—And amid all this adoration he strutted like a ... like a....
DOMINICA—Fish.
HYACINTH—Worse than that! The girl didn’t sleep ... wept all night
long....
DOMINICA—How terrible!
HYACINTH—And we all suffered with her ... her mother, I, the boys, the
professor.
DOMINICA—[_Suspiciously._] What professor?
HYACINTH—[_Mopping his brow._] That’s just it. [_With a glance at
BEATRICE._] There is a teacher here, a tutor to the boys. A nice,
cultured straightforward young man. And he ... well ... toward the end
... when everyone was desperate ... an extraordinary thing occurred,
which was, indeed, only another proof of the adoration in which your son——
BEATRICE—[_Terrified; beseechingly._] Karl!
DOMINICA—Go on.
HYACINTH—With characteristic feminine logic it was deemed expedient to
invite the professor to last night’s reception ... in order to stimulate
Albert’s interest a bit. A stupid idea, of course ... but from it you can
glean the somewhat ecstatic regard in which your son is held here.
DOMINICA—What a charming, naïve idea!
HYACINTH—Wasn’t it? [_Flashes BEATRICE a triumphant glance._] Yes, and
then came something which hadn’t been reckoned with. This professor—a
fine, a serious, a most estimable young man—it appeared that he—think of
it—that he had been secretly in love with Alexandra. [_In terror BEATRICE
rises. There is a brief pause._]
DOMINICA—[_Emphatically._] Such things happen. [_Reassured, BEATRICE sits
down._]
HYACINTH—[_With a triumphant glance at BEATRICE._] Yes, and no wonder. He
sees her every day. She is beautiful. The rest was inevitable. Think of
all those ancient romances of the Tutor and the Princess——
DOMINICA—What then?
HYACINTH—Put yourself in this poor young man’s place. Though desperately
in love, he lends himself to this innocent deception, knowing, poor
fellow, that he is only a means to an end.
DOMINICA—It was all Albert’s fault. Why did he hesitate to speak? I
consider his reticence exaggerated under the circumstances.
HYACINTH—Remember it was out of consideration for you. Really, Albert’s
devotion to you borders on the fantastic.
DOMINICA—After all, it _is_ gratifying. [_With tears in her eyes._] Well,
and then?
HYACINTH—[_Mopping his brow._] Well, as I said, this young man sat down
to supper with me ... this martyr ... I really must call him that ...
this wretched human sacrifice ... and there at the table he endured such
tortures that tears came to my eyes, watching him.
DOMINICA—I don’t wonder. It is really quite touching.
HYACINTH—And the poor girl, who is tender-hearted as she can be, could
not bear to see him suffer so ... and she would have sent him away ...
but the professor ... solely for the sake of the family ... solely for
Alexandra’s sake ... solely for the sake of your son’s happiness ... the
professor played the comedy through, though his heart was bleeding....
DOMINICA—Poor fellow....
HYACINTH— ... Until Albert, who knew nothing of all this, insulted him.
DOMINICA—[_Horrified._] The professor?
HYACINTH—Yes, him.
DOMINICA—This poor young man?
HYACINTH—This poor young man. Think of it!
DOMINICA—What did Albert do?
HYACINTH—He called him an impertinent little upstart.
DOMINICA—Terrible! And didn’t you interfere?
HYACINTH—How could I?
DOMINICA—What did the young man do?
HYACINTH—What could he do? He bowed his head. I thought my heart would
break.
DOMINICA—Poor, brave fellow! And what did Alexandra say?
HYACINTH—[_Mopping his brow._] I am glad that you, too, are sorry for
this nice young man.
DOMINICA—What did Alexandra do?
HYACINTH—You are not only clever but sympathetic as well.
DOMINICA—And Alexandra?
HYACINTH—If you could only have seen him standing there, this poor,
industrious scientist.... Would you believe it? An astronomer! With his
hopeless, despairing, inarticulate love; with his shattered romance; with
his bleeding heart ... and Albert insulting him with cold, withering
elegance.... And there he stood with bowed head ... disgraced irreparably
... annihilated ... after he had made such a sacrifice for the family....
Can you picture it? Such loyalty—and such a martyrdom? _You_ tell me, as
a woman, is such a young man not noble?
DOMINICA—[_Emphatically._] Most noble!
HYACINTH—[_Rhetorically._] Is he the sort of young man who should be
driven out? Is he the sort who should be despised?
DOMINICA—Certainly not.
HYACINTH—[_With increasing fervor._] Is he the sort who should be
insulted? Who should be mistreated? Who should be punished?
DOMINICA—God forbid.
HYACINTH—[_Still more impassioned._] Again I ask you: Does such a young
man deserve to be driven away? To be insulted? To be mistreated? Or does
he deserve ... to ... what shall I say? ... to ... I don’t know myself
... he deserves ... to ... to——
DOMINICA—To be kissed!
HYACINTH—Yes, that is just what happened to him. [_Sinks weakly into a
chair; mops his brow; murmurs to himself._] I thought she’d never say it.
DOMINICA—[_Taken aback._] Eh?... What happened to him?
HYACINTH—Just what you said. Alexandra kissed him.
DOMINICA—Alexandra?
HYACINTH—As you said.
DOMINICA—I? Yes. Um, yes.
HYACINTH—After Albert insulted him she couldn’t stand by and see him
suffer any longer. She kissed him, in mine and Albert’s presence.
DOMINICA—And what did Albert do?
HYACINTH—How could he, poor chap, understand what was going on?
Naturally, he didn’t see it all as clearly as you see it now.
DOMINICA—[_Without conviction._] I? Yes ... yes ... of course.
HYACINTH—And Beatrice ... who is such a stickler for form ... sits here
worrying herself almost to death [_turns to BEATRICE_] about something
which Dominica, as you see, finds perfectly natural, yes, almost
inevitable. Isn’t it so?
DOMINICA—[_Without conviction._] Certainly, certainly.
HYACINTH—It was a charming gesture on Alexandra’s part. I am truly proud
that throughout the entire episode she conducted herself just as you
yourself would have done. We may all be proud of her. [_As he speaks
BEATRICE gives him furtive, grateful glances._]
DOMINICA—A splendid girl. A girl of spirit! [_Majestically._] Happy the
people who get such a queen.
HYACINTH— ... And if you want to know—I kissed the poor fellow myself.
DOMINICA—You were right. Louis XVI., after his wife’s recovery from a
dangerous confinement, kissed a nurse. [_Emphatically._] Such things
happen. [_After a brief pause._] So that was the terrible thing?
HYACINTH—Yes, that was it. [_Points to BEATRICE._] She fainted dead away.
But she ... she was angry with the professor anyhow.
BEATRICE—[_Quite reassured now._] I? I look upon it in the same light as
Dominica does. Only I wasn’t sure she would see it the way I did.
HYACINTH—She is angry with the tutor on account of Napoleon. He teaches
the boys that——
DOMINICA—Can’t you bear him, either, this Napoleon?
HYACINTH—She loathes him!
DOMINICA—Dear, in my sainted husband’s library there is a curiosity,—a
little French book which proves quite conclusively that Napoleon never
lived. I’ll send it to you. Read it. It is most comforting.... There ...
dearest.... So that was your tragic difficulty.
BEATRICE—Yes, you clever, practical darling.
DOMINICA—Poor little tutor! Now he is beginning to interest me. What is
to become of him?
BEATRICE—He is packing. Oh, he feels that, after what has happened, he
cannot stay on here another moment.
DOMINICA—He is quite right. But are you letting him go like that?
BEATRICE—Well, you see, my dear ... he is now ... the poor fellow is now
like an exploded cartridge.
DOMINICA—One must be very careful with cartridges. It is just such
people who become writers of memoirs, American lecturers or publicists
for the opposition party. One cannot be too careful. I have had painful
experiences in such matters. Tutors, adjutants.... I shall speak to him
myself.
BEATRICE—Thank you, you clever darling.
DOMINICA—Had I been here I should have warned you in the first place
not to trifle with a tutor. A tutor near a princess is as dangerous as
a lighted match near a tin of gasoline. And, in any case, there was no
need for all this haste. Had you waited one day more ... then I’d have
been here. There is an old English proverb which says: “Act in haste and
repent at your leisure.”
HYACINTH—[_Significantly._] In England!
DOMINICA—Now then ... when can I see this tutor? [_The CHAMBERMAID enters
at right._]
BEATRICE—At once. Is everything ready?
CHAMBERMAID—Yes, your highness.
BEATRICE—Send Cæsar to me here. [_The COUNTESS and SYMPHOROSA enter at
right._]
SYMPHOROSA—Everything is ready now, Dominica, dear; and there is a
surprise for you in there.
DOMINICA—Nothing will surprise me now, dear Symphorosa.
SYMPHOROSA—This will, I think. Albert is awaiting you in the drawing room.
DOMINICA—Albert? Up this early? On _my_ account! You are right, dear.
This is a most joyful surprise. I’m coming. [_As she goes._] Meantime,
bring this professor to me here.
BEATRICE—I shall arrange it at once. But I am afraid you will find him
difficult.
HYACINTH—And I’ll wager that you won’t find him difficult at all.
DOMINICA—Karl, I haven’t wagered since 1886, when I bet my sainted
husband that I would give birth to a boy.
HYACINTH—And it was a girl?
DOMINICA—Two, Karl, two at a time. Come, Countess. [_She exits at right.
SYMPHOROSA and the COUNTESS follow her. HYACINTH and BEATRICE look at
each other in silence. He smiles triumphantly._]
BEATRICE—You have a good heart, Karl, and a good head. [_Kisses him on
the brow._] There is but one thing I am still afraid of——
HYACINTH—In heaven’s name, what now?
BEATRICE—When she speaks to her son in there ... won’t he have a
different opinion about it all?
HYACINTH—There are two reasons why he won’t have a different opinion. In
the first place, he won’t be such a fool as to disagree with his mamma;
and in the second place, I mean to be present at the interview. [_Starts
to go._]
BEATRICE—[_Hurries after him._] Karl, dear ... wait.... I have been very
unfair to you.... What can I do to make you forgive me?
HYACINTH—[_At the door, right._] All I ask of you is never to fall on
my neck again. To-morrow you will write those words in a copy book one
hundred times: “Old brooms sometimes sweep clean.” [_He exits._]