and she the while,
Heard him with a soothing smile;
Then said, my little infant if so much
Thou feel the little wild bee’s touch
How must the heart, ah Cupid be,
The helpless heart that’s stung by thee!
(All present applaud Tolstoi who executes a faultless bow.)
Theodosius
This will not be a flattering oration, but I speak the truth from my heart: by Your Majesty’s actions Russia has been led from ignorance to light and joined the throng of civilized nations. What was Russia in your father’s day? What is she today? And thou, city of Peter, young in thy supremacy! How great is the renown of thy founder. On a cheerful site thou art erected. Verily, a metamorphosis hast thou accomplished.
(Courtiers applaud.)
Alexis
What a hypocrite! I heard him call this city a devil’s bog not more than a week ago.
Peter
I am eager that the people should know how the Lord has helped us hitherto. Yet we must not slacken. We must bear any burden and work for the advantage of Russia.
(Applause from the Courtiers.)
Peter
The philosopher Leibnitz told me that science had traveled from the Orient to Greece, thence to Italy, France, and Germany and now is turning eastward to Russia. Now, it is our turn. The circle is complete.
(Applause.)
Theodosius
The Hellenes are not to be wondered at for bowing to heathen idols, but rather we Christians who bow to icons as idols.
Peter (as on cue)
There are many false wonders.
Theodosius
For example, the weeping Virgin of Petersburg.
Peter
Ah, I have it. (to a servant) Bring it here.
Alexis
This was well rehearsed.
(The servant produces an icon and gives it to Peter who holds it up for everyone to see.)
Peter
Here you see Milady of the Sorrows. She weeps for our sins. See. Tears flow. But how? A miracle, perhaps? (pause) No. Two little cavities in the eyes and a small hole in the body large enough to contain a sponge. Presto, the tears flow. (he dismantles the icon expertly)
(Alexis has winced during this whole proceeding. Peter discards the icon with a flourish, all present, except Alexis, applaud.)
Peter
This is the source of the miraculous tears.
Tolstoi
I confess it troubles my conscience, in that being Christians, we worship idols.
Alexis
What idols?
Tolstoi
Why, this one—the Venus. They say there is no sin because these Gods never existed. But this is where folk fatally err. Because the ancient Gods do exist.
Peter
You believe in their existence?
Tolstoi
Most certainly. The Gods are evil spirits who, being cast out of their temples in the name of Christ, sought refuge in dark and desert places.
Peter
What the devil are you talking about? Excess of reading has muddled your brain.
Tolstoi
I have myself experienced the power of evil spirits. It was Satan himself who enticed me to translate Ovid and Machiavelli. Ever since, I have been an insatiable lecher and politician. And the Goddess, Venus, haunts my dreams.
(Everyone, including Peter, laughs.)
Peter
In what guise?
Tolstoi
In the guise of Akoulina, the dancing girl.
Alexis
No doubt it was she herself you slippery old lecher.
(More laughter and applause.)
Peter
Zoon! (Peter is using Dutch)
(Alexis comes forward and bows to his father.)
Alexis
Father.
Peter
Thank you, Aliosha. Thank you for the timber. It came in the nick of time. My own supply was lost in a storm, so, but for your thoughtfulness, our latest man of war would not have been finished.
Alexis (desperately ill at ease)
Always glad to be of help.
Peter (embracing him)
God be with you.
Alexis (abashed)
Thank you, Daddy.
Peter
You must stay for the conclave.
Alexis
Ah—
(A clown dressed as the Pope enters, surrounded by Cardinals.)
Kniaz Pope
Grace and peace be unto you, noble assembly. In the name of Bacchus, may the spirit of drunkenness be with you.
(All the guests bow to his holiness and kiss his ring or his slipper as suits them. The more solemn and outlandish a mockery, the more there is applause.)
Tolstoi
I propose a toast to the Tsar and Tsaritsa.
(All drink.)
(Catherine, Peter, and Alexis drink. A cannon is fired. The Kniaz Pope anoints the guests from a brandy bottle.)
Kniaz Pope
May the drunkenness of Bacchus which passeth all understanding,
