CLAIRE. I'll do anything if you'll only let me alone.
THE SERGEANT. [kneeling to her] Pardon him, pardon him, lest the mighty man bring his whip to you. God knows we all need pardon!
CLAIRE. [at the top of her voice] I pardon him! I pardon him!
PATIOMKIN. [springing up joyfully and going behind Claire, whom he raises in his arms] Embrace her, victor of Bunker's Hill. Kiss her till she swoons.
THE SERGEANT. Receive her in the name of the holy Nicholas.
VARINKA. She begs you for a thousand dear little kisses all over her body.
CLAIRE. ]vehemently]. I do not. [Patiomkin throws her into Edstaston's arms.] Oh! [The pair, awkward and shamefaced, recoil from one another, and remain utterly inexpressive.]
CATHERINE [pushing Edstaston towards Claire] There is no help for it, Captain. This is Russia, not England.
EDSTASTON [plucking up some geniality, and kissing Claire ceremoniously on the brow]. I have no objection.
VARINKA. [disgusted] Only one kiss! and on the forehead! Fish. See how I kiss, though it is only my horribly ugly old uncle [she throws her arms round Patiomkin's neck and covers his face with kisses].
THE SERGEANT. [moved to tears] Sainted Nicholas: bless your lambs!
CATHERINE. Do you wonder now that I love Russia as I love no other place on earth?
NARYSHKIN. [appearing at the door]. Majesty: the model for the new museum has arrived.
CATHERINE. [rising eagerly and making for the curtains] Let us go. I can think of nothing but my museum. [In the archway she stops and turns to Edstaston, who has hurried to lift the curtain for her.] Captain, I wish you every happiness that your little angel
