Princess Bebé/Act 1
An apartment in the Imperial Suite of the Palace of Suavia. At the rear, a garden covered with snow.
Princess Margaret, Prince Maurice, Prince Alex, and the Countess von Rosenkranz surround the Tutor, who expounds the daily history lesson.
Tutor. However, every day could not be glorious in the history of the Kingdom of Suavia. Michael VIII was a prudent king, a model of public and private virtues. His wife, Edvigia, was a model queen, as all the queens of Suavia have been since the beginning of the seventeenth century, although, as we have already seen, previous to the seventeenth, particularly during the fourteenth and fifteenth, there may have been an occasional one of unhappy memory.
Countess. Pardon, Herr Stirger, but Queen Theodolinda, to whom you refer, has been gravely disparaged in my opinion through being called the Messalina of Suavia. Have you read the recent monograph of Herr Tomberg, published in the Journal of Historical Sciences? It would appear that the name of Theodolinda had been completely vindicated. Herr Tomberg proves that the unfortunate eccentricities of the queen did not reflect so much upon herself as upon her husband, who, it seems, condoned them.
Tutor. Very possibly. May we proceed. Countess?
Countess. Do so, and pardon again. Queen Theodolinda has always been such a sympathetic figure to me!
Tutor. We now arrive at a dark page in the reign of Michael VIII, unjustly called the Simple by his detractors, who were many. But for them his reign was glorious. The battle of Kuntz was not lost through the cowardice of our troops or the incompetence of our generals, as might be imagined, but through treachery
Countess. This time I must interrupt you without asking pardon. There never was any such treachery as that to which you now refer. You are speaking of one of my ancestors, whose memory has been completely vindicated from that infamous calumny.
Tutor. Countess, pardon me. I was not aware that Baron von Rosenkranz of the battle of Kuntz was related in any way to the present Counts of Rosenkranz.
Countess. The succession is direct, except for a charge of bastardy, which is an honor to our house, as the blemish was of royal blood. To be sure, historians speak of a betrayal of his country, but who are historians? I could show you over six hundred letters from the archives of our family, all of them in Baron von Rosenkranz's own hand, had you leisure to examine them, in which he explains away the vile accusation. It is impossible to read them without being convinced. Teach history to the Princes of Suavia, among whose loyal vassals the Rosenkranz have always been and are. As the last, the most unworthy of their line, it is my duty to declare to the Princes of Suavia, on behalf of my ancestors, that there never was a traitor, either to his king or to his country, whose name was Rosenkranz!
Prince Maurice. Of course we should not believe it, Countess. Herr Stirger did not wish to give offense.
Tutor. On the contrary, my aim is to emphasize virtue and heroism in our lessons, passing over all doubtful points in silence, or touching them but lightly, as the case may be. They are not altogether absent from public or private history.
Countess. It is as His Majesty desires. History should be a mirror of virtue to those who some day must be kings.
Prince Maurice. Fortunately, since the beginning of the seventeenth century the Kings of Suavia
Countess. Highness, since your glorious dynasty ascended the throne.
Prince Maurice. They have all been mirrors of virtue.
Princess Margaret. The kings and the queens have, but since the beginning of the twentieth century the princes and princesses
Countess. Highness! Take care! His Majesty has prohibited expressly reference or allusion to the recent unhappy events which have saddened his heart, alas!—and the hearts of his loyal subjects.
Tutor. Alas!
Prince Maurice. The Emperor told us yesterday that our uncle and aunt, Prince Stephen and Princess Helena, were both dead.
Prince Alex. [Aside to Margaret] I have a surprise for you later.
Princess Margaret. [Idem] What is it?
Prince Alex. [Idem] Wait until we are alone.
Prince Maurice. [Idem] What does Alex say?
Princess Margaret. Some foolishness or other. Wait until we are alone.
Trumpets play the Royal March outside.
Countess. His Majesty returns to the Palace.
Prince Maurice. Then the study hour is over…
Tutor. Yes, that will be all for to-day.
Princess Margaret. Does the Emperor visit us or shall we go to him?
Countess. As yet I have received no instructions. The confusion at Court because of the arrival of— I forgot that it was not to be mentioned.
Prince Maurice. Oh! What harm can it do? The arrival of Prince Stephen. You can tell it by the humor the Emperor is in. And the Empress!…
Princess Margaret. The Empress refused to see us.
Prince Alex. She saw me.
Princess Margaret. You are the favorite grandchild.
Prince Maurice. The Emperor is furious. When I asked if I could go sleighing in the park yesterday, he forbade me.
Countess. I must obtain the order of the day. Be discreet during my absence. Herr Stirger will remain with you.
Tutor. Although I have not yet had luncheon
Countess. I shall not be long. [She goes out.
Prince Maurice. Alex! Alex! It's all right. Herr Stirger doesn't mind; we are alone now. He dislikes the Countess as much as we do.
Princess Margaret. Wasn't it jolly while he was telling us about the treason of her old ancestor?
Prince Maurice. He promised to do it yesterday. We knew it would make her angry.
Princess Margaret. Did you notice what she has been doing to her hair?
Prince Maurice. Yes, the old cathedral has put in stained glass. Alex, what have you got? Hurry up!
Princess Margaret. Before the Countess comes back.
Prince Alex. Here it is… L'Illustration Française. Guess what is in it. Look!
Prince Maurice. Give it to me! Let me see.—Watch the door, Herr Stirger. Tell us if any one is coming.
Tutor. Perhaps I had better see myself first… Oh, Highness! Where did you get this paper?
Prince Alex. In the Empress's room. She had it hidden away, but I found it.
Tutor. You surprise me.
Princess Margaret. Nobody cares what he does, because he is the spoiled darling. It would be different if it were one of us. What does it say? "Latest Scandals at the Court of Suavia."
Prince Maurice. With pictures of Prince Stephen and la Königsberg, his wife…
Tutor. His morganatic wife.
Prince Alex. His mistress.
Tutor. Highness!
Princess Margaret. Say favorite, Alex.
Prince Maurice. Yes, a cocotte. It sounds better in French, doesn't it? French is the diplomatic language.
Tutor. Your Highness appears to have developed a talent for piquant observation, wholly improper in a prince. Princes should be of a benevolent, optimistic turn of mind. The lady is an actress, not a cocotte, as you miscall it.
Prince Maurice. What is the difference, as long as she is good-looking? Look out! Is any one coming?
Tutor. No, no, no one— Ah! she is good-looking.
Prince Alex. Oh, she is pretty! Yes, she is!
Princess Margaret. His Highness, Prince Alex, thinks that she is pretty. What do you know about it, little imp?
Prince Alex. Well, she is prettier than the women in our family. The paper says so: "In the Royal Family of Suavia the women are all insignificant. The Princes, however"—listen to this—"Ils sont le type accompli de la beauté virile."
Princess Margaret. I shall box your ears for that.
Prince Alex. I dare you to!
Tutor. Highness! She is your sister.
Prince Alex. What is the use of being silly?
Prince Maurice. Stop quarrelling. Hello! More pictures… "Princess Helena of Suavia, popularly known as Princess Bebé."
Princess Margaret. She is better-looking than la Königsberg. How distinguished!
Prince Maurice. "Herr Albert Rosmer, with whom the Princess"
Tutor. Put the paper down. Your Highness. When you see their pictures on the same page, the rest is suggested. Give me that paper; it ought not to remain in your hands another moment. Suppose this should be brought to the attention of Their Majesties? These French papers stop at nothing which can prejudice a ruling house. France is a country without faith, without religion; it is a blot with its republic upon the face of Europe. Kings and princes should unite against it, as they did in the days of Napoleon. These articles make me blush, they—they— [Continuing to read in spite of himself] Yet there is something about them which is fascinating, the style… These Frenchmen are the devil!
Prince Maurice. What does it say?
Tutor. Nothing, nothing— Lies! Slander!
Prince Maurice. The Emperor!…
Princess Margaret. A nice fix we are in!
Prince Alex. Confined to our rooms for a week!
Tutor. The storm always bursts upon my innocent head.
The Emperor and the Countess Adelaide enter.
Emperor. Have you finished the lesson?
Prince Alex. Grandfather! Grandfather dear!
Emperor. Alex, what is this? Military salute! I have appointed Your Highness to my body-guard. You have been made sergeant.
Prince Alex. Shall I wear a cuirass over my uniform? Promise to make me lieutenant next year, like Maurice.
Prince Maurice. Next year? Wait until you deserve it.
Princess Margaret. You will be promoted just as he was—for your fighting qualities.
Prince Maurice. Oh, I do wish we might have war!
Emperor. Not so fast! War is never desirable, especially now that it has become so expensive. Herr Stirger, are your pupils making rapid progress? I charge you to be strict with them. Always, always forget that they are princes, or rather never forget it. Bear in mind that it is for them to be first in the rigid performance of duty. What paper is that you hold behind your back? Its appearance seems familiar. One moment— What? Is it French? Upon my soul! How did this paper come into the Palace? Herr Stirger, is this your conception of history, of literature? Countess Adelaide, is this the influence which you exert over the Princes? To permit such papers in their study hour! How did this paper come into your possession? There is no security any longer in the Palace. I never know at what moment I may lay my hand upon an anarchistic proclamation, or a libel, or upon publications such as this, with pictures, with stories
Countess. Your Majesty, I am at a loss to understand how this paper escaped my attention.
Tutor. His Highness Prince Alex may explain to Your Majesty.
Emperor. You? Have you seen it? You!
Prince Maurice. Too bad you have joined the army! You will be shot.
Prince Alex. [Bursting into tears] Grandfather!
Emperor. What is this? You are speaking with your superior officer. Military salute! Explain how this paper came into your possession.
Prince Alex. I found it in the Empress's room; I didn't know that there was anything in it
Emperor. Silence! Of course there is nothing in it. In the Empress's room, did you say? Women are curious creatures. Countess, you may return it to the Empress.
Countess. If I might offer a suggestion to Your Majesty, perhaps if the Empress were to continue in ignorance…
Emperor. Quite superfluous. She will be more careful another time, now that she is advised that she has a grandson who is so enterprising. [Aside to the Countess] She will be proud of him, too, I assure you. [The Countess goes out] Attention, Sergeant! For this breach of discipline, which is your first, you are forbidden to go skating this afternoon, and for the next three days you may eat by yourself, apart from your brother and sister.
Princess Margaret. What a blessed relief!
Prince Alex. Don't you envy me?
Princess Margaret. It serves you right.
Prince Alex. I could tell grandfather some nice stories about you and Maurice.
Prince Maurice. You are a fine soldier—a tattle-tale and a coward.
Prince Alex. Who? I?
Emperor. Silence! That will do. Herr Stirger, continue your instruction in the library. I require this apartment for a private conference, as it has a separate entrance.
Tutor. We have concluded our studies for the day.
Emperor. Good! Then the Countess may accompany the Princes to pay their respects to the Empress. Margaret, my dear, a kiss; Maurice, your hand. Alex…
Prince Alex. Will Your Majesty forgive me?
Prince Maurice. Coward! A man never apologizes.
Emperor. I forgive you this time, but if it happens again—Maurice, read him the army regulations.
Prince Alex. May I go skating with Margaret and Maurice?
Emperor. Of course you may.
Prince Alex. I don't mind eating by myself, because Maurice and Margaret always tease me.
Princess Margaret. We do, do we? He is intolerable.
Prince Maurice. He is a glutton; he eats with his fingers when the Countess is not looking.
Prince Alex. You dip your bread into the gravy.
Princess Margaret. And you stuff pastries into your pockets.
Prince Alex. It's for Mogul.
Emperor. Silence!
Tutor. Highnesses, His Majesty grows impatient.
Emperor. Yes, you may retire.
The Princes and Princess withdraw with the Tutor. An Usher enters, followed shortly by Prince Stephen.
Prince Stephen. How shall I address you? Your Majesty, father—You have always been a father to me, since I never knew my own. As head of the family, his brother. Emperor, I have always loved and respected you.
Emperor. Always? Sit down. No, sit nearer. Although my decision not to see you was irrevocable, although I had determined that you should never enter the Palace again, nevertheless, as your complaints have become incessant and you have even had the bad taste to carry your diatribes to the radical press, thus lending aid and comfort to my enemies, and to those of the dynasty
Prince Stephen. May I
Emperor. I have not finished. We shall never arrive at an understanding through correspondence or by means of emissaries, so I have preferred to arrange this interview, which will remain private, that is, unless you give it out to the papers yourself, intoxicated with your new rôle of journalist and your pose as Prince who is thoroughly up to date. It would make one of those typical interviews which are the pride and glory of the modern press. If the Empress were to learn of this, the shock would cost her an illness. Her health is already precarious, as is mine, thanks to our beloved nephews and nieces, whose only thought, apparently, is to sweeten the final years of our reign, or to hasten its close. As if you were not bad enough, Helena focuses the attention of the entire civilized world upon us and our house.
Prince Stephen. It is surely not my fault that my cousin has chosen this moment to agitate her divorce, not to speak of her elopement with her husband's secretary.
Emperor. But you are the one who began it. She would never have dared, if it had not been for you.
Prince Stephen. I fail to see the similarity; my position is very different from that of my cousin.
Emperor. Perhaps, but two scandals in three months are too much in any family. In a ruling dynasty they are intolerable. This is a restless age, when every hand is raised against us. Monarchies do not exist to-day by virtue of divine right or inherited prerogative, but through personal prestige, through the respect and admiration which royalty inspires by its behavior. Making ourselves ridiculous in the eyes of those who no longer believe in us, and pathetic in the eyes of those who still do, is an ill augury for the future.
Prince Stephen. I must decline to admit having fallen into either extreme, although I very well understand that my conduct may appear odious to courtiers and conservatives. But are you familiar with liberal opinion? Frankly, I do not believe that any intelligent person could laugh at me, or take exception to my marrying for love the woman I adore.
Emperor. Have you noticed that the liberal and revolutionary papers are the ones which have printed all the jokes at your expense, or rather, I should say, at ours? That shows their appreciation of your modernity, your liberalism, and how highly they value this love of yours, which in their eyes ought certainly to appear admirable.
Prince Stephen. No doubt it does. It is not a question of ideas, however, but of interests. I am a Prince; it is to their advantage to make me appear ridiculous—personally, in my love, and in my marriage. They do not respect me because I am a Prince, yet they blame me because I love like an ordinary man.
Emperor. Precisely. You have hit upon the reason for the universal disapprobation which your conduct arouses, both among your enemies and your friends. You were content to enjoy the prerogatives of Prince so long as it suited you to do so; now you wish to share the immunities of a private citizen, because it happens to be convenient. That is the difficulty, that is what the public with unerring instinct condemns. Every rank has its obligations, which are in proportion to its privileges.
Prince Stephen. What privileges attached to mine? I might live the prescribed routine, provided I manifested no initiative, and never had an original thought of my own. You conferred the command of a regiment upon me; no sooner did I introduce some reforms, which would have improved the condition of my subordinates, than the government took alarm, and I was reprimanded severely. I visited the colonies, and returned to publish my observations. The book was cut down by the censor to a few insignificant banalities, for which I blush to be held responsible. If I desire to contribute to charity, I must restrain my generosity so that my contributions may not be greater than yours, nor than those of others who are nearer the throne. I am a lover of art, yet I am not able to express my admiration for an artist or for his work, unless it accords with the official art standards and is thoroughly orthodox. It is the same with everything. These are my privileges. My initiative, my intelligence, my sympathies are never permitted to overstep the bounds which are fixed for them by authority—bounds as inviolable as the frontiers of our country. What have you to offer in exchange for a life lived without love?
Emperor. Without love? Is there no other love than that woman's?
Prince Stephen. Not for me. A man never loves more than once in his life; the only love for him is that of the woman whom he loves. Of course, conceivably, there are a great many persons in the world a man might love, just as there are a great many women, a great many countries, a great many mothers. But our love is the only love for us; that is why we think it is the best—because it is ours, like our own country, or our own mother. Nobody has any choice in these things, yet we always think that ours is the best. The only one possible is ours.
Emperor. You were scarcely in a position to make a wise choice when you persistently absented yourself from Court and avoided association with women of your own rank and class, to hover behind the scenes of a theatre and cultivate the society of a comic-opera singer.
Prince Stephen. Of an adorable, an intelligent woman, who has taught me to know myself, behind the scenes—which, no doubt, seems a terrible place to you—to live my own life, surrounded by real people who are living their own lives and succeeding strictly upon their merits. She has cured me of my prejudices, she has strengthened my will, she has aroused my conscience
Emperor. No doubt she has. Excellent theories à la Ibsen, à la Tolstoy, à la Nietzsche, those perturbers of weak minds, who, by the way, should have been born in Suavia. We should have attended to them and have made an example. Living your own life? Yes, the infallible excuse for every imaginable fault and delinquency. Being yourself, your self! As if life were ever possible for one without the co-operation of all, without the laws of society! Good! Since these are your ideas, your sentiments, be consistent to the end. Your life is that which you mould by your own will, independently of the disabilities of your rank. Well, then, live it, and do not expect to enjoy the privileges of your former station.
Prince Stephen. Do you ask me to submit to the injustice of being deprived of them? I am in a worse position without them than the man who never knew what they were. Such persecution is implacable. Your humblest subject who has committed an unspeakable crime has his day in court, he is not condemned, as I have been, in defiance of all the laws of your Empire, which guarantee to the most abject slave the right of disposing of his hand and of choosing the companion of his heart freely.
Emperor. Those same abject slaves whom your poetic imagination encourages you to envy, would very gladly exchange that inestimable right for the privileges and income which you enjoyed as Prince, with no further effort than the accident of your birth, which was considerable.
Prince Stephen. Then I have nothing to hope?
Emperor. Hope to be happy. What more do you wish? You will make a great mistake if you are not. The question is, which is preferable—love, or the income and dignities of a Prince? Certainly no better guarantee of happiness could be desired than the assurance that your love loves you for yourself, for yourself alone, the man himself, as Shakespeare expresses it.
Prince Stephen. Very well. I shall ask nothing further of you, but you need expect nothing of me in return. I am released from all obligation to my princely dignity. Make no attempt to prevent what I purpose doing in spite of it.
Emperor. Only do it out of Suavia!
Prince Stephen. What did I tell you? Life is more difficult for me than for an ordinary man. I am no longer Prince, yet the laws which protect others have no validity for me. You banish me from my country.
Emperor. To do you a favor. You say that you are anxious to support yourself; it would be difficult in Suavia. You are too well known here. Nobody would offer you a menial position, while if the opportunity were a brilliant one, you would feel, naturally, that it had not come to you upon your merits as a man, but as the Emperor's nephew. Prince of Suavia, a reflection which I am confident would prove most offensive. [Cheers oidside] But why these cheers? What is the matter?
He strikes a bell. The Chancellor enters.
Chancellor. Pardon, Your Majesty…
Emperor. How is this? What are these shouts?
Chancellor. Your Majesty, it is unprecedented; impertinence without parallel in my experience
Emperor. It is? Speak!
Chancellor. Princess Helena has arrived at Court. Upon alighting from the train, she took a sleigh before it was possible to prevent her, and drove straight through the heart of the city to the Palace gates. And she is with us now.
Emperor. [To the Prince] Now you see what you have done! Shall I tolerate this? She has heard that you are here, so she dares to presume! I always regret promptly any leniency I may show. What is the meaning of these cheers?
Chancellor. A crowd has gathered out of curiosity. The students acclaim the Princess, taking advantage of the opportunity to demonstrate against the government.
Emperor. Which should have anticipated the outbreak and have been prepared for it. How has the Princess arrived without advices having been received of her departure? Has the Department of State no intelligence? Our Secret Service deserves the name. Is this street demonstration to be permitted for the remainder of the day?
Chancellor. The guard will clear the vicinity of the Palace. Your Majesty is familiar with student character. Princess Helena is popular with the younger element; her love-affairs interest. Besides, a young poet, admired in Bohemian circles, has composed a poem which the students sing and shout on the street-corners, a sort of pæan to love, a satire upon
Emperor. Upon me, is it not?
Chancellor. Upon the government, Your Majesty.
Emperor. Oh, no! If it had been upon the government, the poem would have been suppressed and the author would have been in prison by this time. Do you say that Princess Helena is in the Palace?
Chancellor. It seemed inadvisable to stop her. She inquired for the Empress.
Emperor. Who surely refused to see her. It is a pleasure reserved for myself!
Countess Adelaide enters.
Countess. Your Majesty, have you heard? Your Majesty, Princess Helena
Emperor. Yes, yes. Where is she?
Countess. The Empress has collapsed. She refused to receive Her Highness; then her nerves gave way. The Court is in an uproar. Your Majesty, we adored Her Highness!
Emperor. Indeed? Where is she?
Countess. Pardon, Your Majesty. As soon as she learned that the Empress had refused to receive her, she flew at once to the Princes. No one thought it advisable to stop her, and she is closeted with them now.
Emperor. With the Princes? Quick! There is no time to lose. Send her to me, I command it. Do you hear, I command it! Who attends Her Highness?
Countess. The Baroness von Rosenberg.
Emperor. Ah! Has the Baroness the temerity to present herself in the Palace? Good! I have an account to settle with the Baroness. [The Countess retires] And yet you intrude yourself into my presence, you beg me to condone, to approve your behavior! To think that I have railed all these years against the inroads of socialism, of anarchy, the forces of revolution! No, their bombs are preferable a thousand times, they reinforce and buttress the principle of authority by a sort of natural reaction, but this anarchy from above, this dissolution of all decency and morality, is infinitely more dangerous. Better fall before a blow than decay gradually and disintegrate!
Chancellor. Your Majesty is quite correct.
Emperor. The punishment shall fit the offense, I promise you.
Prince Stephen. Your Majesty, may I retire? Argument is useless in your present state of mind. I am not eager to meet my cousin. Obviously, her offense is responsible for our suffering the same punishment for faults which are distinct. I have not been recreant to my duty; my love is noble, it is legitimate. Permit me to kiss Your Majesty's hand. My affection will never fail. My only request is that you do not pursue me with your displeasure now that I am banished from Suavia; I ask it as a favor. My fortune is not large, so that my task will be difficult. I cannot forecast my future means of support—I only know that whatever they may be, they will not be unworthy of a gentleman, although he may no longer be Prince. Good-by, Your Majesty. Some day you will judge me more justly.
[The Prince goes out.]
Chancellor. The poor Prince has my sympathy.
Emperor. How so? He has the strength of mind to have his own way; let him fortify it by opposing mine. A Prince of Suavia married to a comic-opera singer! It seems incredible.
Chancellor. Love, Your Majesty.
Emperor. Love? Then why did he marry?
Chancellor. I am told the lady is virtuous.
Emperor. Always distrust that brand of virtue which keeps one eye upon marriage. I am told that she is an experienced woman. My nephew is an ass, utterly ignorant, both of women and of the world. If she had been a respectable actress, a legitimate artist in one of the subsidized theatres—but a comic-opera singer, who appeared only a month ago in "La belle Hélène" and "La Fille de Mme. {SIC|Angôt|Angot|nodash}}"! It would be impossible to present such a woman at Court. As they announced her, the ushers would whistle the airs which they had heard her sing at the theatre the evening previously.—Ah! The Princess! Retire, but remain within call.
The Chancellor goes out. Princess Helena, Prince Maurice, Princess Margaret, Prince Alex, the Countess von Rosenkranz, and the Baroness von Rosenberg enter.
Princess Helena. Oh, uncle!—Your Majesty…
Emperor. Do not attempt to embrace me. [To the Princes and Princess] Who desired you to come?
Princess Helena. Don't scold them! They all love me; and I love them, too. Everybody seems to love me; the crowds ran after me, shouting, down the streets. Nobody has forgotten Helena—Princess Bebé, as they used to call me—for I was the life of the Palace in those days, and I really believe I left my heart behind me when I went away. You do love me, don't you, you dear children? Margaret, poor girl, never let them trifle with your heart as they did with mine; I wish you all the happiness which I might have found in the world. Don't you yield one jot when they attempt to marry you to a man whom you do not love, and never can.
Princess Margaret. Don't cry, Helena! Helena, I don't want you to go away!
Emperor. That will do. Countess, remove the Princes.
Countess. Highnesses
Emperor. Helena and I must confer for the last time.
Princess Helena. For the last time? You are inflexible.
Prince Maurice. Grandfather is horribly angry.
Prince Alex. Will all the toys you promised me surely come to-day?
Princess Helena. Of course they will! Just you wait and see. I brought you an automobile, and an encampment with soldiers in it that really walk, and cannon that really go off.
Prince Alex. Oh, how I love you!
Countess. Follow me.
Princess Margaret. Grandfather
Emperor. What is this? You are confined to your rooms for the remainder of the day. We have already had sufficient.
Countess Adelaide retires with the Princes.
Princess Helena. Your Majesty…
Emperor. Well, why do you come? Do you fancy that I am so weak that a flood of tears can induce me to forget the duty which I owe to our house, even supposing that they were genuine? If I did not judge you as Emperor, yet as head of the family, I should be obliged to repeat what you already know: in my sight you are dead.
Princess Helena. You are very cruel. I asked for advice, for protection, and you refused to hear me. Why did you oppose my divorce?
Emperor. A divorce in our family?
Princess Helena. Apparently the laws of your Empire are not equally for all men. I have better reason than most to appeal to them, since you married me against my will.
Emperor. To a Prince who was worthy of your love.
Princess Helena. You have witnessed my sufferings, Baroness.
Baroness. Alas! Poor dear!
Princess Helena. The Prince was a brute, and you know it. You knew me, too; you knew that I could not be happy with such a man.
Emperor. The performance of duty is a gratification which we have always with us, as it depends wholly upon ourselves. Doubtless it is one of the subtler forms of happiness, but for that very reason appropriate to those of us who have been born into exalted station—whether through good or evil fortune.
Princess Helena. You are a man and a sovereign. It is easy for you to compensate yourself for whatever sacrifices you may make by noble deeds and glorious, victorious exploits. But love is the only motive of a woman's heart—without love, duty, ambition, sacrifice, the moral law, even religious faith, have no meaning; but with love she can accomplish all things without so much as a thought of duty, or obligation, or punishment, or reward, simply because it is love. Would you condemn me to live without love all my life? A woman might resign herself to living without being loved, but never to living without loving. How would it be possible to live? I could have done my duty by the Prince as his wife if he had not loved me; but that was not his only fault. He is a gross, contemptible person, as you know, incapable of inspiring one single regret, not even pity, which is the last refuge of the heart that struggles to maintain a show of love when love itself is gone.
Baroness. True, Your Majesty! True, and we know it. Poor dear!
Emperor. Baroness, I shall have a word with you later. It was a happy thought to attach you to the Princess Helena. You have been zealous in the cause of decorum.
Baroness. Your Majesty!
Emperor. I should have inquired into your past history more fully.
Baroness. Your Majesty! Your Highness! I protest; I cannot submit to this. I am insulted, outraged, yet I am unable to defend myself, because you are Emperor. Such an insinuation is unworthy of you. You insult the Baroness von Rosenberg!
Princess Helena. Not so loud.—Your Majesty is severe with the poor Baroness.
Baroness. The accusation is horrible—atrocious! Is this the reward of years of faithful service? I have sacrificed my life to Your Majesty. Her Highness is at liberty to repeat the advice which I have given her. No doubt Her Highness has made mistakes, she may have committed indiscretions even, which I regret, but you have no idea what she might have committed had I not been present to prevent her. She would have eloped two months before she did, if it had not been for me.
Emperor. Have we gained anything, in your judgment, by the delay?
Baroness. I appeal to Her Highness. Naturally, I sympathized with her desire for a divorce, but in her love-affair with Herr Rosmer I have been her most consistent, her most vigorous opponent.
Emperor. Probably that explains how it was that they met at your house.
Baroness. It was already too late at the time. Your Majesty, if an open scandal was to be avoided.
Emperor. But the flight? Who promoted it?—a fitting end to the adventure!
Baroness. The Princess threatened suicide, and I was confident that she was irresponsible. How shall I convince Your Majesty? I adore the Princess.
Princess Helena. Baroness, I shall be grateful to you forever.
Baroness. I have been insulted, I have lost the favor of the Emperor, the honor of a Rosenberg has been called in question! The Emperor reflects upon my past—my past, which was exemplary in virtue. I throw myself upon Your Highness for consolation, my Princess whom I adore!
Princess Helena. I shall never desert you, Baroness, my heart, my life, my soul!
Emperor. This is too much, upon my honor! Baroness, you are insufferable. Never appear again at Court, no matter what the provocation.—Let us have done once for all. I assume that your excuses are identical with your cousin's, who is another hero of love romance. Apparently you have very little faith in love as the ideal road to happiness, since you desire to have your allowance as Princess continued as well. Am I right?
Princess Helena. You insult me. I merely ask that you grant my application for a divorce, so that I may dispose of my hand freely, as my heart dictates.
Emperor. After running away? What good would that do you? Marriage with Herr Rosmer, as a corespondent, would be extra-legal, to say the least.
Princess Helena. I am unable to see it. Herr Rosmer travelled with me; it was his duty as the Prince's secretary. I was not in love with him at the time; the Baroness will tell you so.
Baroness. Upon the honor of my ancestors!
Emperor. Baroness, I remain unconvinced. An end to this nonsense. The scandal which you have created throughout the civilized world by your conduct, the indelible blot which it has cast upon the good name of our house, not to speak of the moral and political disorders which your escapades have encouraged in the Empire, deserve punishment which shall be exemplary. Princess Helena, there is one way in which you may obtain pardon, and only one—indeed, in some measure it may be said to justify it—you may have yourself declared insane, and submit to confinement in one of the royal residences for an indefinite period, dependent upon your good sense and deportment.
Princess Helena. Thanks. If I am guilty, I prefer to be responsible for my acts. Have you no saner suggestion for my reformation? Frankly, I fail to appreciate your solicitude for the family honor. The Empire would feel itself far more secure, in my opinion, if it were to believe that we were capable of falling in love in our right minds, than if it were to get the idea that we are all of us such crazy imbeciles that we are incapable of anything. If you once begin to declare members of our family insane, you will have occupation to last you for the rest of your life. It will be a sorry outlook for the nation to find itself governed by a family in which there are so many persons without sense.
Emperor. Is this a joke? Are you laughing at me?
Princess Helena. No, I am not laughing. I realize now that it was a mistake for me to throw myself upon the mercy of a man who never had any.
Emperor. Outrageous insolence! Out of my sight! You are banished from Suavia!
Princess Helena. Yes, we are banished because we live our own lives in the sincerity of our affections, because we refuse to learn hypocrisy of you and of the Princes you tolerate about your throne, and who are worthy of it, because they maintain a hollow pretense of love and respect for what nobody any longer either loves or respects. Prince Michael may remain at Court in the enjoyment of all his dignities; he will never marry an actress like Prince Stephen, because he is provided with three or four of them already; Princess Leonora may remain—she will not hear of a divorce; nothing is so convenient as a husband to cover up her antipathy to marriage; Princess Clothilda may remain, who never allowed her husband to interfere with her. They are virtuous officially, they neither shock nor jeopardize the security of the Empire! I am not built that way. You are right; I was a fool to appeal to you and your laws, when all I had to do was to satisfy my own conscience. Could anything be more ridiculous? Why appeal to others for what we have already in ourselves? Why revolutionize the world when it is so easy to revolutionize our own consciences? From this hour forth, I give you warning: I, Princess Helena, have become a ferocious anarchist. The world, your Empire, your precious society, the whole of it, with its laws, its morality and its lies—well, you can have it, it is good enough for you; let it remain as it is; there are people who do not know how to live in any other way—but I tell you that a bomb has burst in my heart, in my life, that has blown into a thousand fragments all this world, with its laws and its lies! Let me out. Baroness. Follow me!
Princess Helena and the Baroness sweep out.
Emperor. I am dizzy—my head goes round. Give me air!
Chancellor. Your Majesty
Emperor. Prince Stephen and Princess Helena leave Suavia this very day without respite of one hour at Court upon any pretext whatsoever. The Crown Council which was set for this afternoon is suspended. Was there business of importance to attend to?
Chancellor. The new law of Social Reform.
Emperor. A proper occasion for its promulgation! Are we to become public laughing-stocks? Shall I pretend to reform society when my own house, my own family, are in the state which all the world sees? Is there anything else?
Chancellor. Nothing of importance. Oh, your signature to a decree conferring a pension upon our national poet.
Emperor. National poet? Poets, philosophers, authors are to blame! They unsettle men's minds, they turn the world upside down. Undisciplined fools—madmen, all of them! Do not talk to me about poets. Ah! By the way, that student's song about the Princess, her amours… Better suppress it. Do you happen to have heard it by any chance? What does it say?
Chancellor. I don't remember; it has no merit. It advises the Princess to forsake the Court and courtiers, and devote her attention to students and true lovers—to form a court of love. There is nothing in it.
Emperor. Certainly not. What does it say about me?
Chancellor. Nothing that I recall. Ah, yes! there is a refrain:
What does the Emperor know about love?"
Emperor.
Good! That will do for to-day; you may retire. I need rest, to recuperate… Keep close watch on the press. It has been allowed too much liberty of late.
Chancellor. We have taken proper precautions already. Your Majesty may repose. Rest in peace.
Emperor. Good! Good night.
The Chancellor goes out.
Emperor.
What does the Emperor know about love?"
Curtain