Arms and the Man by George Bernard Shaw (online e reader .TXT) 📕

epub:type="z3998:persona">Sergius Invaluable man! Come along! Towering over Bluntschli, he puts his hand on his shoulder and takes him to the steps, Petkoff following. As Bluntschli puts his foot on the first step, Raina comes out of the house. Raina Completely losing her presence of mind. Oh, the chocolate cream soldier! Bluntschli stands rigid. Sergius, amazed, looks at Raina, then at Petkoff, who looks back at him and then at his wife. Catherine With commanding presence of mind. My dear Raina, don’t you see that we have a guest here⁠—Captain Bluntschli, one of our new Serbian friends? Raina bows; Bluntschli bows. Raina How silly of me! She comes down into the centre of the group, between Bluntschli and Petkoff. I made a beautiful ornament this morning for the ice pudding; and that stupid Nicola has just put down a pile of plates on it and spoiled it. To Bluntschli, winningly. I hope you didn’t think that you were the chocolate cream soldier, Captain Bluntschli. Bluntschli Laughing. I assure you I did. Stealing a whimsical glance at her. Your explanation was a relief. Petkoff Suspiciously, to Raina. And since when, pray, have you taken to cooking? Catherine Oh, whilst you were away. It is her latest fancy. Petkoff Testily. And has Nicola taken to drinking? He used to be careful enough. First he shows Captain Bluntschli out here when he knew quite well I was in the⁠—hum!⁠—library; and then he goes downstairs and breaks Raina’s chocolate soldier. He must⁠—At this moment Nicola appears at the top of the steps R., with a carpet bag. He descends; places it respectfully before Bluntschli; and waits for further orders. General amazement. Nicola, unconscious of the effect he is producing, looks perfectly satisfied with himself. When Petkoff recovers his power of speech, he breaks out at him with, Are you mad, Nicola? Nicola Taken aback. Sir? Petkoff What have you brought that for? Nicola My lady’s orders, sir. Louka told me that⁠— Catherine Interrupting him. My orders! Why should I order you to bring Captain Bluntschli’s luggage out here? What are you thinking of, Nicola? Nicola After a moment’s bewilderment, picking up the bag as he addresses Bluntschli with the very perfection of servile discretion. I beg your pardon, sir, I am sure. To Catherine. My fault, madam! I hope you’ll overlook it! He bows, and is going to the steps with the bag, when Petkoff addresses him angrily. Petkoff You’d better go and slam that bag, too, down on Miss Raina’s ice pudding! This is too much for Nicola. The bag drops from his hands on Petkoff’s corns, eliciting a roar of anguish from him. Begone, you butterfingered donkey. Nicola Snatching up the bag, and escaping into the house. Yes, sir. Catherine Oh, never mind, Paul, don’t be angry! Petkoff Muttering. Scoundrel. He’s got out of hand while I was away. I’ll teach him. Recollecting his guest. Oh, well, never mind. Come, Bluntschli, lets have no more nonsense about you having to go away. You know very well you’re not going back to Switzerland yet. Until you do go back you’ll stay with us. Raina Oh, do, Captain Bluntschli. Petkoff To Catherine. Now, Catherine, it’s of you that he’s afraid. Press him and he’ll stay. Catherine Of course I shall be only too delighted if appealingly Captain Bluntschli really wishes to stay. He knows my wishes. Bluntschli In his driest military manner. I am at madame’s orders. Sergius Cordially. That settles it! Petkoff Heartily. Of course! Raina You see, you must stay! Bluntschli Smiling. Well, If I must, I must! Gesture of despair from Catherine. Act III

In the library after lunch. It is not much of a library, its literary equipment consisting of a single fixed shelf stocked with old paper-covered novels, broken backed, coffee stained, torn and thumbed, and a couple of little hanging shelves with a few gift books on them, the rest of the wall space being occupied by trophies of war and the chase. But it is a most comfortable sitting-room. A row of three large windows in the front of the house show a mountain panorama, which is just now seen in one of its softest aspects in the mellowing afternoon light. In the left hand corner, a square earthenware stove, a perfect tower of colored pottery, rises nearly to the ceiling and guarantees plenty of warmth. The ottoman in the middle is a circular bank of decorated cushions, and the window seats are well upholstered divans. Little Turkish tables, one of them with an elaborate hookah on it, and a screen to match them, complete the handsome effect of the furnishing. There is one object, however, which is hopelessly out of keeping with its surroundings. This is a small kitchen table, much the worse for wear, fitted as a writing table with an old canister full of pens, an eggcup filled with ink, and a deplorable scrap of severely used pink blotting paper.

At the side of this table, which stands on the right, Bluntschli is hard at work, with a couple of maps before him, writing orders. At the head of it sits Sergius, who is also supposed to be at work, but who is actually gnawing the feather of a pen, and contemplating Bluntschli’s quick, sure, businesslike progress with a mixture of envious irritation at his own incapacity, and awestruck wonder at an ability which seems to him almost miraculous, though its prosaic character forbids him to esteem it. The major is comfortably established on the ottoman, with a newspaper in his hand and the tube of the hookah within his reach. Catherine sits at the stove, with her back to them, embroidering. Raina, reclining on the divan under the left hand window, is gazing in a daydream