THE DESIGN AND Exscunon as THE smmcs
FOR SMAW'S “ARMS mm THE, MAN" son A
SUMMER. THEATRE Warm umrm sums

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MECHEGAN STATE UNIVERSITY

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The Design and Execution of the Settings for Shaw's
Arms 522 the flag for a Summer Theater
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Elmer J. Dennis, Jr.

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TIE DESIGN AND EXECUTION OF THE
SETTINGS FOR SHAW‘S "ARMS AND THE 1:” I"

FOR A SITSTER THEATRE WITH LIL'IITED STAGING FACILITIES

BY

Elmer J. Dennis, Jr.
“Inn-

A THESIS

Submitted to the School of Graduate Studies of Michigan
State University of Agriculture and Applied Science
in partial fulfillment of the requirements

for the degree of
MASTER OF ARTS

Department of Speech

1955

Elmer J. Dennis, Jr.
1

The purpose of this thesis was to try and establish the practi—
cality of producing multi-set shows in a small summer theatre with
limited staging facilities and financial resources.

The figures cited in the introduction indicated that even in
the large well established summer theatres that have strong financial
backing and excellent production facilities multi.set shows are the
exception rather than the rule.

In resolving the problem set forth above, the designer and
director decided upon a production of George Bernard.Shaw‘s éEE§.§EQ
thg_g§n;because it satisfactorily met the following criteria set up
for the production: 1. a play requiring more than two sets; 2. a
popular comedy type of play; 3. a play by a noted playwright; and
h. a play whose characters could be cast from the resident company.

Chapter I deals with the designers approach to the problem of
design. The questions that a designer must aSk himself about the play
and the important things that he must look for in the script as he
formulates his initial design are given consideration.

Chapter II concerns itself with the playwright and his approach
to theatre. In determining the playwright's attitude toward the type
of settings used in production of his plays three sources were con-
sulted; the playwright's own writings, the writings of others about the
Iflaywright, and the plays he has written.

Chapter III analyhecu the problems imposed by the play, the
theatre, and the director as they were related to the Lake Michigan

Playhouse production of Arms and the Man.

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Chapter IV is a discussion of the design for the production as
the designer interpreted it. Among the points of consideration are:
the designer's initial concept, the styles of designs used, the basic
floor plans, the property requirements, and the lighting.

Chapter V is the playscript with technical cues indicated.

Chapter VI analyzes the technical problems of execution and pro-
duction and the manner in Which they were resolved.

Chapter VII sums up the designer's conclusions concerning the
merits of the style of design used in this production.

The Appendix includes the working drawings, floorplans, shift

plots, lighting plots, set photographs, review and program.

summons!

I: sincere thanks to Ir. Dealt hell; Ir. Virgil God-
frey and Dr. lax lelson for their invaluable aid and guidance
in this preJeet.

flanks also to I. 1. Gregory who me this project
possible and to the letters of the playhouse oenpaay she gave
so generously of their tile.

And to w wife, lei-caret, a very special thank: for
her faith and ensures-eat which new no liaits.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER

INTRODUCTION . . . . .... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I
II
III

IV
V

VI

VII

THE DESIGNER'S APPROACH TO ARMS AND THE MAN . . . . . .

m MMIGIIT O O O 0 O o O 0 O O O O 000000

AN ANALYSIS OF THE SCENIC REQUIREMENTS INPOSED BY THE
PLAIWRIGHT, THEATRE AND DIRECTOR . . . . . . . . . . .

The Scenic Requirements of the Script . . . . . . .

The Scenic Requirements Imposed by the Physical Limita—
tions of the Playhouse . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Specific Requirements of the Director . . . . . . .

THE MSIGN OF THE SENINGS 0 e e o e e e e e e a o e

THE PLAISCRIPT WITH TECHNICAL CUES . . . . . . . . . .

AN ANALYSIS OF THE TECHNICAL PROBLEMS OF EXECUTION.AND-

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LIST OF FIGURES

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Stage Plan of the Lake Michigan Playhouse .
ActIFloorPlan
ActIColorShetch ............
ActIIFloorPlan. . . . . . . . . . .
ActIIColorSketch. .. . . . . . .
ActIIII'loorPlan ............
ActIIIColerSketch ... . .. . . . . .
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Photo Act I, "He‘s fast asleep, the brute!”
Photo Act II, ”My dear Sergiusl' . . ‘. . .
mote Act II, ”Who is my rival?" . . . . .
Photo Act III, Opening Curtain . . . . . .
Photo Act III, ”What does this mean?" . . .
Scenery Assembly Diagram . . . . . .I . . .

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INTRODUCT I ON

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INTRODUCT ION

The problem of this thesis was to determine how effectively a
play requiring three or more sets could be produced in the small summer
theatre with a limited budget and staging facilities.

A survey of summer theatre programs listed in the N31 19.135.
Limesl indicated that the major emphasis in the summer schedule was on
recent Broadway productions requiring only one or two sets. Out of
the more than one hundred and fifty theatres listed only one produced

Arms and the Man while approximately one third of them produced I A};

 

_A_ Camera. This contrast was repeated over and over in the summer
theatre circuit where such one-set Broadway hits as The Male Animal,
lily 2.11.1322 A_ng_e_l__s_ and Bell, Book and Candle were produced repeatedly
while such multi-sst plays as 2a}; 9__i_'_ the Moon) Pygmalion, and w
Grow the IJEi:l_acs were produced infrequently.

The above figures apply to the larger eastern and New England
summer theatres which operate on ample budgets in well equipped theatres.
The same situation holds true, however, for the many smaller summer
theatres throughout the rest of the country. A study of pro-season

publicity material circulated by a number of smaller Michigan summer

theatre revealed that their schedule was substantially the same.2

 

1&1 York Times, See. 2, p. 3, June 20, 1951+.

aschedule of plays, Barn Theatre, Augusta, Michigan, 1955.
Oh, M__e__nl 011, Women!, Dial "M" for Murder, The Fifth Season, Guys and
Dolls, The —Country Girl King of Hearts, The Cains Mutipy Court Martial
T113. Remarkable; I__I_'_. Pennypacker, Gigi, Dear Charles, The Rainmaker, A
Girl Can Tell, Reclining Figure, Tea and Sympathy

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The Lake Michigan Playhouse, which is a small two hundred seat
theatre, might be considered typical for this type of theatre. Its
production records for the five years in which it has operated indicated
that the majority of the plays produced fell into the one-set classi-
fication. Three of the plays produced during this period required two
sets, but no play requiring more than two sets had ever been produced
in this theatre. The reasons for this lack of multi-set productions
according to the director of the Playhouse were: 1. The Lake Michigan
Playhouse is a small theatre with a maximum seating capacity of two
hundred, and consequently the theatre operates on a very limited bud-
get scaled to the capacity and average attendance; 2. the staging
facilities of the theatre were very limited; and 3. the schedule on
which a summer theatre is required to operate does not provide time
for extensive construction of new and elaborate scenic pieces.

The designer felt that the situation as outlined by the direc-
tor presented a challenging problem.which should not be overlooked.
A request was made to schedule a production requiring more than two
sets to provide the designer with the opportunity to work out a solup
tion to the problem of producing a play within the limitations of
budget, staging facilities, and schedule described by the director.

A133 and the 143.3 by George Bernard Shaw was the play chosen for
production because it was well liked by both the designer and director,
and fulfilled the following criteria: 1. a play requiring more than
two sets; 2. a popular comedy type of play; 3. a play by a noted
playwright; and M. a play whose characters could be cast from the

resident company.

 

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The purpose of this thesis is to show how limitations of budget,
staging facilities, and schedule found in a small summer theatre such

as the Lake Michigan Playhouse might be resolved while maintaining

high artistic standards, and meeting the essential demands of the play—

wright and director for a play of multi-set requirements.

CHAPTERI

TF3 DESIGNER'S APPROACH TO ARMS AND THE MAN

 

CHAPTER I
THE DESI GN'ER'S APPROACH TO ARMS AND THE MAN

The designer, like any other skilled craftsman, should formu-
late some organized.method of approach to the problems of stage design.
For the Lake Michigan Playhouse summer theatre production of Arms and
jhg_ggg, the designer felt that the criteria outlined by the noted
Broadway designer Mordecai Gorelik would provide a logical approach
to the design problems that would be encountered.

According to Gorelik the actual work of designing the set be-
gins with the second reading of the script. The first reading should
be for the enjoyment of reading a good play, but following this the
designer should begin to look for his artistic idea. This idea does
not always come immediately, but when it does, it forms the starting
point for the finished design. "As long as the essential idea develops,
it does not matter if the plan of production changes later for the de-
signer can.make corresponding changes in his scenic idea."1

After the preliminary reading the designer must analyze the
script with great care. The analysis, at this point, should not place
too great an emphasis on the author's description of the setting, no
matter how detailed or clearly stated they may be; for the designer's

primary interest is in developing a design which will reflect the theme

1Mordecai Gorelik, "Designing the Play", Producing the Play, Ed.
John Gassner, (New York: Dryden Press, 19Ml), p. 301.

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of the play.‘ As an aid in developing the ba31c design the d651gner
should.familiarize himself with the background of the playwright and
the period in.which the play waswritten.

Once the designer has become familiar with the script, confer-
ences with the director are in order. In the beginning phase of the
design, the designer's work is not very dissimilar from that of the
director. Like the director, he must ask himself, "What will this
show say or do to its audiences? How will my settings help to do or
say it? How will the actors use my settings?"3

When the designer has answered the above questions satisfactor-
ily, he is ready to apply himself to the more practical aspects of the
design. Once he has the answers to these questions the "artistic
idea" will begin to take shape. Among the things a designer must look
for in the script are the entrances and exits, the time of the year,
the times of the day, the lapses of time between scenes or during scenes,
the succession of locales in a manyhscened play, and the significant
or important scenes in the play. Having these things in mind the de-
signer proceeds to ask himself,

What is the atmosphere of the locale? What quality does it have
which makes it an intergral part of this author, what is notable
about the historic period of the play or about its geographical
location? What is the dramatic metaphor of each setting, and of
the settings as a whole? What is the presumablfi history of the
locale? What will be actors movements be like?

21bid., p. 303.

31bid., p. 303.

uIbid., p. 3ou.

8

Having provided himself with the answers to the above questions,
his search for a central dramatic image or "artistic idea" should be
near an end. Additional research may be necessary to solidify his
ideas, but the basic design should be well in mind at this point.

Being familiar with the script and the theme or basic idea on
which the design will be based, the designer should give consideration
to the specific problems of the playwright, the director, and the
stage on which the play will be produced. With this accomplished the
designer is ready to put the design into its final form.

In summary, the designer should approach the problem.of stage
design in an organized.manner. The method.that is used will vary de-
pending upon the individual, but the end result should be a well planp
ned production. For the Playhouse production of Arms and the Man, the
design problems were approached as follows: 1. readings of the script;
2. a background study of the playwright; 3. conferences with the
director on the basic theme or idea of the play; M. an analysis of
the problems brought on by the script, director and the stage on which
the play will be produced; and 5. a discussion of the design as it
finally evolved. Each of these points are to be considered in suc-

ceeding chapters.

CHAPTERII

THE PLAYWRIGHT

CHAPTER II

THE PLAYNRIGHT

As was noted in Chapter I, the wise designer makes a background
study of the playwright and.the period in which the play was written
to aid him.in formulating his basic concept of the design. This step
is necesssrrbecause the designer has many styles of design from which
to chose, and though he may not decide to use the style of the period
in which the play was written, he must be able to decide whether or
not the style he chooses is appropriate.

In making this study of George Bernard Shaw and his plays, the
designer found that there were three major sources of information from
which to draw. These were the writings of the playwright other than
his plays, the writings of others about the playwright, and the plays
themselves. This chapter will consider each of these sources in the
order mentioned.

Shaw's own writings, consisting largely of criticisms, essays,
and prefaces to his plays, offer the designer little with which to
work. His remarks concerning stage design are scattered, brief, and
buried in his writings on life and the arts. The few comments that
Shaw did.make specifically related to design were considered by the
designer to be quite useful.

One of the most interesting of ShaW's remarks, concerning stage
design, indicates his objections to the use of illusive scenery which

is the usual type of scenic representation found on the stage today.

11
In illusive scenery the scene is really not complete in its details,
although it must appear complete enough so that, to the eye of the
audience, it appears to be the real thing.1 The details are often only
apparently realistic rather than actually so. Shaw states that this

. type of scenery

.... is unconvincing; whilst the imaginary scenery with which the
audience transfigures a platform or tribune like the Elizabethan
stage or the Greek stage used by Sophocles, is quite convincing.
In fact the more scenery you have the less illusion you produce.
The wise playwright, when he cannot get absolute reality of preser-
tation, goes to the other extreme, and aims at atmosphere d sugb
gestion of mood rather than at direct simulative illusion.

The designer felt that this was an interesting contrast to the usually

detailed stage directions and realistic stage settings described in

his plays. This does not mean, however, that Shaw did not favor real-
istic settings for his plays.

In another source Shaw stated that he felt realistic settings
brought the theatre closer to "contemporary life."3 He also remarked,
that such settings were "worlds above flats, wings, and sky borders".u
These comments are more consistent with the type of setting usually

described by Shaw, but when viewed in light of the previous quotation

 

1W} J. Friederich and J. H. Fraser, Scenepy Design for the
Amateur Stage, (New York: The Macmillan 004». 1950), p. 28.

2George Bernard Shaw, Prefaces, (London: Odhams Press Ltd.,
1938), p. 111.

3George Bernard Shaw, Dramatic Opinions and Essayg, (New York:
Brentano's, 1917), Vbl I, p. 277.

1"void. , p. 277.

12

leads to the belief that Shaw is not as much against change, when a
change is Justified, as might be thought.

Given in support of this opinion is the following quotation
from a letter written by Shaw to Lee Simonson in answer to his request

for information in regards to his feelings about the design of Heart-

break Piouse:

.... So long as you do not alter or mask the positions of my people
on the stage, or cut out an essential effect like the cutting off
of the light and leaving the group in the dark, you.may do your

Job in your own way. The more of your own you put in, the richer
the play will be. You know, I take it, that comedy dialogue is
impossible unless the faces of the speakers are seen quite distinct-
ly. That is all you have to look out for as far as the author is
concerned. For the rest, let yourself rip....

At the time Arms and the Man was written, (1893) Shaw was under
the influence of Ibsen and strongly against the romantic style of
writing and the 'well made' play of the Scribe or Sardou pattern. He
also felt that their method of presentation was as artifical as their
writing. On this point he comments:

In real life, I tell you, a human being is composed of many
saints and many sinners, of many strengths and many weaknesses;
but in the 'well made‘ play there are neither human beings nor
any life at all, only puppets and mechanism; and except as mechan-
ism, a diabolus gg machina is no more interesting than a deus
‘25 machina, the employment of either being inexcusable in the work
or a playwright who know his business, which is to persuade his
audiencg that they are watching real things happening to real
people.

In addition to the above references the designer drew upon the

 

5Lee Simonson, Part g£_§.Lifetime, (New York: Duell, Sloan and
Pierce Inc., 19u3), pp. 51-52.

bMaurice Colbourne, The Real Bernard Shaw, (New York: Dodd
Mead and Co., 19u0), p. M0.

13
writings of Shaw's critics and biographers, who had as much or more to
say concerning design as Shaw himself.

Hasketh Pearson reports that Shaw was never satisfied with be.
ing merely a playwright, and produced.many of his own plays at the
Court Theatre in London. In.his description of Shaw the producer, he
states,

He designed his scenery, chose his casts, managed.his stage man-

agers, lectured is actors....abused them humorously, and won

their affection.
Evident from this report on Shaw is the fact that he was probably
even more demanding as a producer than as a playwright. One source
suggests that Shaw was unusual as a playwright because he did know
his way around.theatre, and one of the few where the director could
not violate his floor plans too drastically without finding himself in
trouble over and over again as he tried to make realistic action and
motivating lines fit together.8 The designer felt that this observa~
tion was an important factor to be considered, and so kept it well in
mind throughout the planning of the design for Arms and the Man.

The majority of Shaw's plays are introduced with a lengthy des-
cription of the required setting. Henderson reports that these lengthy

stage directions are a distinctly original contribution to the tech-

nology of modern realistic drama,....and brought about by the

 

IHasketh Pearson, Q. B. S. A Full Length Portrait, (New York;
Harper and Bros., 1942), p. 206.

8Friederich and Fraser, 9p: cit., p. 28

1H
evolutionary trend of modern realistic art.9 The significant aspect
here would seem to be that Shaw did not approve of the direction in
which the theatre of the time was headed and did what he could to re-
direct it. Apparently Shaw felt that detailed stage directions could
do no harm, and would be a definite statement as to how he felt his
plays should be produced.

In Thg_§£§gg_lg_§g£J Lee Simonson offers the opinion that the
plays of Shaw demand a realistic type of setting because of the locals
in which they are placed. Because of this "the designer will be forced
to imitate to a greater or less degree, rooms which we habitually
inhabit!10 This viewpoint seemed quite in keeping with the impression
gained from reading Shaw's stage directions, but on the other hand a
very unexpected statement from a designer who belongs to the symbolis-
tic school of design.11

The writings of the playwright and those who wrote about him,
therefore, seem to be at odds with each other. Shaw in writing about
his plays did not always favor the realistic approach, while his
critics and producers seem to advocate realism as the best approach.

Perhaps this seeming conflict is best resolved by William.Irvine who

summarizes Shaw's ideas concerning scenic requirements as follows:

 

9Archiba1d Henderson, g. B. Shaw, His Life and Works, (Cincinnati:
Steward and Kidd 00., 1911), p. E15.

10Lee Simonson, Thg_8tage i§_Set, (New York: Harcourt Brace and
Co., 1932), pp. “9-50.

11Mordecai Gorelik, "Designing the Play”, Producing the Play,
ed. J. Gassner (New York: Dryden Press, 1941), p. 343.

15
First, that they be authentic to the time and nature of the play;
second, that they be, insofar as possible pleasing and beautiful
in themselv s; and third, that they afford every opportunity to
the actor.
In this designer's opinion the above recommendations gave sufficient
freedom in choosing a style of design for Arms and the Han as could be
desired.

Although the information offered by Shaw and his critics was
useful in formulating the basic concept of the design for Arms and the
Egg, much additional information concerning the practical aspects of
of the setting was necessary before the final design could be achieved.
This information came from the play itself.

Shaw was a master in the use of descriptive introductions. He
used these descriptions to define the geographical location of the set.
ting, the personal characteristics of the characters, the mood and
atmosphere that must prevail, and the specific architectural peculiar-
ities of the environment. The designer read many of Shaw's plays in
order to acquaint himself with the general scenic requirements and to
get an overall picture of his approach to production.

The following excerpts from.Shaw's plays are offered as examples
of his extensive and complete stage directions, and little changing meth-
od of production style.

As an example of how Shaw sets the geographical location of his

plays, the description from Act I of Candida is offered.

 

i-" ——— —

12Williamlrvine, The Univerg§_of g. B, S, (New York: Whittlesey
House, l9fl9), p. 202.

16

A.fine October morning in the northeast suburbs of London, a
vast district many miles away from the London of Hayfair and St.
James' much less known there than the Paris of the Rue de Rivoli
and the Champs Elysees, and much less narrow, squalid, fetid and
airless in its slums; strong in comfortable, prosperous middle—
class life; wide-streeted, muriad-populated; well-served with ugly
iron urinals, radical clubs, tram lines, and a prepetual stream
of yellow cars; enjoying in its main throughfares the luxury of
grass—grown front gardens untrodden by the foot of man save as to
the path from the gate to the hall door; but blited by an intolsr.
able monotony of miles and miles of graceless, characterless brick
houses, black iron railings, stony pavements, slaty roofs, and re-
spectably ill-dressed or disreputably poorly-dressed people, quite
accustomed to the place, and mostly plodding about somebody else's
work. o. .0

This desert of unattractiveness has its oasis. Near the outer
end.of the Hackney Road is a park of 217 acres, fenced in, not by
railings, but by a wooden paling, and containing plenty of greens—
ward, trees, a lake for bathing, flower beds with the flowers ar-
ranged carefully in patterns.....Where ever the prospect is bounded
by trees or rising green grounds, it is a pleasant place. Where
the ground stretches flat to the gray palings, with bricks and
mortar, sky signs, crowded chimneys and smoke beyond, the prospect
makes desolate sordid.

The best view of Victoria Park is from.the front windows of St.
Dominic's Parsonage, from which not a single chimney is visible...13

A second descriptive passage from Candida shows how Shaw's stage
directions define the characters themselves.

In this room....the Reverend James Mavor Morell, does his work.

He is sitting in a strong round—backed revolving chair at the right
hand end of a long table, which stands across the Window, so that
he can cheer himself with the view of the park at his elbow. At
the opposite end of the table,_adjoining it, 13.a little table only
half the width of the other, with a typewriter on it..... The
large table is littered with pamphlets, journals, letters, nests

of drawers, an office diary, postage scales, and the like.....
Within reach of his hand is a stationary case, and a cabinet photo-
graph in a frame. Behind him the right hand wall....is fitted with
bookshelves, on which an adept eye can measure the parson's divin-
ity and casuistry by a complete set of Browning's poems and

 

 

13John Gassner, A Treasury g£_the Theatre, (New York: Simon
and Schuster, 1950) p. Eh1.

 

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Maurice's heological essays, and guess at his politics from a
yellowabacked Progress and Poverty, Fabian.Essays, a Dream of
John Bull, Marx's Capital, and.half a dozen other literary land-
marks in Socialism. .... Altogether the room is the room of a

good.housekeeper, vanquished, as far as the table is concerned
by an untidy man, but elsewhere mistress of the situation.....

11+

A passage from Act III of Pygmglion gives an impression of the
character of Mrs. Higgins without reading a single line of the
dialogue.

Mrs. Higgins was brought up on Morris and Burns Jones; and.her
room, which is very unlike her son's room in Wimpole Street, is
not crowded with furniture and little tables and nicknacks. In
the middle of the room there is a big ottoman; and this, with the
carpet, the Morris wall-papers, and the Morris chintz window cur-
tains, supply all the ornament, and are much too handsome to be
hidden by odds and ends of useless things. A few good oil-paint—
ings from the exhibitions in the Grosvenor Gallery thirty years
ago (the Burns Jones not the Whistler side of them) are on the
walls. The only landscape is a Cecil Lawson on the scale of a
Rubens. There is a portrait of Mrs. Higgins as she was when she
defied the fashion in her youth in one of the beautiful Rossettian
costumes which, when caricatured by people who did not understand,
let to the absurdities of popular estheticism in the eighteen-
seventies.15

Shaw was equally adept in providing for the mood and atmosphere
of his plays. The following passage from Heartbreak House indicates
how he sets the mood for Act III in a few descriptive lines. The
scene is in the garden of Captain Shotover's house.

Hector....finds Lady Utterword laying voluptously in the ham-
mock....in the circle of light cast by the electric arc, which is
more like a moon in its opal globe..... It is a fine still night,
moonless.1

1%

Loc. cit.

15Bernard.Shaw, Pygmglion, (Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1951),
p. 11.

16Bernard Shaw, Heartbreak House, Great Catherine, and Playlets
9;: the War, (New York: Brentano's, 1919).

 

 

 

18
Another short but effective atmospheric passage is found at the begin-

ning of Act I, PYggglion.

....Torrents of heavy summer rain. Cab Whistles blowing frantically
in all directions. Pedestrians running for shelter into the portico
of St. Paul's church..... All are peering out gloomily at the

rain, except one man with his back turned to the rest wholly pre-
occupied with a notebook.in which.he is writing..... 7

A final selection shows how he elaborated on specific architec—
tural pecularities which might be involved in the settings. This pas-
sage from Misalliancg_describes an elaborate and essential part of the
setting.

The house is in Surrey, on the slope of Hindhead; and.Johnny, re—
clining, novel in hand, in a swinging chair with a little awning
above it, is enshrined in a spacious half hemisphere of glass which
forms a pavilion commanding the garden, and beyond it, a barren
but lovely landscape of hill profile with fir trees, commons of
bracken and gorse, and wonderful cloud pictures.

The glass pavilion springs from a bridge like arch in the wall
of the house, through which one comes into a big hall with tiled
flooring which suggests that the proprietor's notion of domestic
luxury is founded on the lounges of weekaend hotels. The arch is
not quite in the center of the wall..... Nearly in the middle of
the glass wall of the pavilion is a door giving on the garden, with
a couple of steps to surmount the hotwater pipes which skirt the
glass. At intervals round the pavilion are marble pillars with
specimens of Viennese pottery on them, very flamboyant in colour
and florid in design..... In the side walls are two doors: one
leading....to the interior of the house, the other 03 the opposite
side and at the other end leading to the vestibule.1

These few selected examples of Shaw's descriptive introductions
to each setting gives the designer an excellent idea of how thorough

he was in working out a setting which exactly fit the play, Some of

 

17Shaw, Pygmalion, 9p. 9__i_t_., p. 11.

18George Bernard Shaw, "Misalliance", Theatre Arts, 27:3b,
September, 19”}.

19
the introductions place more emphasis on one point than another, but
all are very specific even to naming the pictures on the walls.

Along with these introductory passages Shaw added directions
throughout the plays which specifically said how various parts of the
setting and furniture were to be used. The following passages from
Arms and the Man were selected from among the many good selections
which might have been used as examples of how Shaw used the setting.

A distant shot breaks the quiet of the night.....startling her

(Raina) so that she scrambles out of bed and.hastily blows out
the candle....and hurries back to bed in the dark, nothing being
visible but the glimmer of the light in the pierced ball before
the image, the starlight seen through the slits at the top of the
shutters. ....the shutters disappear, pulled open from without;
....the rectangle of snowy starlight flashes out with the figure
of a man silhouetted in black upon it. The shutters close imp
mediately; and the room is dark again....the flame of a match is
seen in the middle of the room.1

A few pages later Raina says, "1'11 hide yous Here! behind.the cur-

tains". Several lines later Shaw adds, "A couple of shots are fired

right under the window; and a bullet shatters the glass opposite

Raina".2O

All of this action centers around the window and balcony
that Shaw had described in the introduction to Act I. In only four
pages he has used a large part of the practical aspects of the setting.
Shaw, it would seem.is keenly aware of his setting throughout his

writing, and.his many references to various parts of it would indicate

that he feels that the setting should be used as well as seen.

 

19Shaw, Arms and the Man, gp, cit., p. 10.

 

20Shaw, Arms and.the Man, 92, 933,, pp. 13-1u.

 

20

In summary, the preceeding evidence wmuld seem to indicate that
most Shaw plays call for a realistic style of production. Realistic
in the sense of apparent representation rather than actual. The play-
wright, through the introductions to his plays, seems to favor this
style of production as do his critics. The designer, however, felt
that Shaw would not think a production in some other style out of keep-
ing with the play should conditions justify the change.

The basic scenic requirements for producing a Shaw play as out-
lined by Irvine were considered by the designer as being much more
logical and realistic than the approach taken by some of the other
critics. The designer also considered Irvine's statement that the
settings should be authentic, pleasing and practical for the actors
to work in much more in keeping with Shaw's philosophy of theatre

than those of the other writers.

CHAPTER III

AN ANALYSIS or THE SCENIC REQUIREMENTS
Imossn BY mm PLAWRIGHT, THEATRE AND DIRECTOR

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CHAPTER III

AN ANALYSIS OF THE SCENIC REQUIREMENTS
IMPOSED BY THE PLAYWRIGHT, THEATRE AND DIRECTOR

I. THE SCENIC REQUIREfiENTS OF THE SCRIPT

The first step in analyzing Arms and the Man for its scenic re-
quirements was a careful reading of the script. The detailed descrip-
tion at the beginning of each act was found to be very valuable in
formulating the general needs of the play.

Three settings are specified by Shaw for this play. The locap
tion of the action is the home and garden of Major Petkoff, which is
located in a small town in Bulgaria near the Dragoman Pass. Act I
takes place in Raina's bedroom, which is on an upper level of the
house. The setting for Act II is the garden, located to the rear of
the house. The final setting in Act III is Major Petkoff's library.

The general description for Act I as it was written by Shaw is
as follows:

Night: AA lady's bedchamber in Bulgaria, in a small town near
the Dragoman Pass, late in November in the year 1885. Through an
open window with a little balcony a peak of the Balkans, wonder-
fully white and beautiful in the starlit snow, seems close at
hand, though it is really miles away. The interior of the room is
not like anything to be seen in the west of Europe. It is half
rich Bulgarian, half cheap Viennese. Above the head of the bed,
which stands against a little wall cutting off the left hand
corner of the room, is a painted wodden shrine, blue and gold,
with an ivory image of Christ, and a light hanging before it in a
pierced metal ball suspended by three chains. The principal seat,
placed towards the other side of the room and opposite the window,
is a Turkish ottoman. The counterpane and.hangings of the bed,
the window curtains, the little carpet, and all the ornamental
textile fabrics in the room are oriental and gorgeous; the paper

23

on the walls is occidental and paltry. The washstand, against
the wall on the side nearest the ottoman and window, consists of
an enamelled iron basin with a pail beneath it in a painted.metal
frame, and a single towel on the rail at the side. The dressing
table, between the bed and.the window, is a common pine table,
covered with a cloth of many colours, with an expensive toilet
mdrror on it. The door is on the side nearest the bed; and there
is a chest of drawers between. This chest of drawers is also
covered by a variegated native cloth; and on it there is a pile of
paper backed novels, a box of chocolate creams, and a.miniature
easel with a large photograph of an extremely handsome officer,
whose lofty bearing and.magnetic glance can be felt even from
the portrait. The room is lighted by a candle on the chest of
drawers, and another on the dressing table with a box of matches
beSi d3 1 to

The window is hinged doorwise and stands wide open. Outside,

a pair of wooden shutters, opening outwards, also stand open. On
the balconyis a young lady, intensely conscious of the romantic
beauty of the night, and of the fact that her own youth and beauty
are part of it, is gazing at the snowy Balkans. She is in her
nightgown, well covered by a long mantle of furs, worth on a mods
erate estimate, about three times the furniture of the room.

Her reverie is interrupted by her mother, Catherine Petkoff, a
woman over forty, imperiously energetic, with magnificent black
hair and eyes, who might be a very splendid specimen of the wife
of a mountain farmer, but is determined to be a Viennese lady,
and to that end wears a fashionable tea gown on all occasions.

The setting for Act I as described by Shaw is a realistic in-
terior, and the furnishings are listed in detail. If these items of
decor were to be eliminated from the description, however, the actual
description of the setting turns out to be a simple box set wdth two
entrances. This fact was noted with interest by the designer, because
the lack of structural details essential to the setting made the basic
concept of a simplified setting easier to realize.

Act II of Arms and the Man takes place in the Petkoff garden

several months later. The time is early spring and the war in which

the Bulgarian army was involved in.Act I is at an end.

2h

The sixth of March, 1886. In the garden of Major Petkoff's
house. It is a fine spring morning; the garden looks fresh and
pretty. Beyond the paling the tops of a couple of minarets can
be seen, showing that there is a valley there, with the little
town in it. A few miles further the Balkan mountains rise and
shut in the landscape. Looking towards them from within the garden,
the side of the house is seen on the left, with a garden door
reached by a little flight of steps. On the right the stable yard,
with its gateway, encroaches on the garden. There are fruit bushes
along the paling and.house, covered with washing spread out to dry.
A path runs by the house, and rises by two steps at the corner,
where it turns out of sight. In the middle, a small table, with
two bent wood chairs at it, is laid for breakfast with Turkish
coffee pot, cups, rolls, etc.; but the cups have been used and
the bread broken. There is a wooden garden seat against the wall
on the right.

The designer broke down the description of the setting for Act
II as given by Shaw and found that it was composed of three distinct
elements: 1. the furniture and fruit bushes; 2. the garden wall,
gate to the stable, and the wall of the house; and 3. the landscape
view showing the mountains and tops of the village in the valley below.
This breakdown permitted the designer to watch for the non—essential
elements in the setting as the script was read.

The setting for Act III is in the library of the Petkoff house
after lunch of the same day. Shaw describes the setting as follows:

In the library after lunch. It is not much of a library. Its
literary equipment consists 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 sit—
ting room. A row of three large windows shows a mountain panorama,
just now seen in one of its friendliest aspects in the mellowing
afternoon light. In the corner next to the right hand window a
square earthenware stove, a perfect tower of glistening pottery,
rises nearly to the ceiling and guarantees plenty of warmth. The
ottoman is like that in Raina's room, and similarly placed; and
the window seats are luxurious with decorated cushions. There is
one object, however, hopelessly out of keeping with its surroundings.

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This is a small kitchen table, with an old.canister full of pens,
an: eggcup filled with ink, and a deplorable scrap of heavily
used pink blotting paper.

At the side of this table, which stands to the left of anyone
facing the window, Bluntschli is hard at work with a couple of
maps before him writing orders. At the head of it sits Sergius,
who is supposed to be also at work, but is actually gnawing the
feather of a pen, and contemplating Bluntschi's quick, sure,
businesslike progress with a mixture of envious irritation at his
own incapacity and awe-struck 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 his hookah
within easy reach. Catherine sits at the stove, with.her back to
them embroidering. Raina, reclining on the divan, is gazing in a
daydream out at the Balkan landscape, with a neglected novel in
her lap.

The door is on the same side as the stove, farther from the
window. The button of the electric bell is at the opposite side,
behind Bluntschli.

The description for the Act III setting was broken down into
its component parts in the same manner as the other two acts. The
designer noticed immediately when the furniture details were eliminated
that the setting for Act III was basically the same as Act I. This
important fact brought to mind the possibility of using the same set-
ting for both Acts I and III.

With the required settings well in mind, the designer proceeded
to reread the script, looking for those aspects of the action which
were specifically involved with the setting as it was described.

One element that was observed from the reading was Shaw's use
of acting areas. He has divided.his settings into specific acting

areas associated with the room furnishings. Act I was divided into

two large areas by the furniture groupings. One area included the door,

26
chest, and bed, while the opposite side made use of the dressing table,
ottoman, washstand, and window. These two general areas were broken
down still further into five smaller areas. From left to right (Shaw
evidently meant left from the audience viewpoint) the areas would be
1. the door and chest, 2. the bed, 3. the dressing table, M. the
window, and 5. the ottoman.

To indicate how Shaw made use of these areas, several scenes
have been selected as illustrations. The window finds use several
times during the act. As the curtain rises Raina is seen standing on
the balcony as her mother enters and says, "Heavens, child! are you
out in the night air instead of in your bed? You'll catch your death
.....". A few pages later Louka enters with the remark, "If you
please madam, all the windows are to be closed and the shutters made
fast. They say there may be shooting in the streets.". A line or two
later Raina adds, "Leave the shutters so that I can just close them
if I hear any noise". As an indication of the condition of the shut—
ters Louka states, "If you should like the shutters open, just give
them.a push like this. One of them ought to be bolted at the bottom;
but the bolt's gone". All of the use and mention of the window is a
build up to the entrance of Captain Bluntschli early in the act. The
room has been darkened with

nothing being visible but the glimmer of the light in the pierced
ball before the image, and the starlight seen through the slit at
the top of theushutters.... the shutters disappear, pulled open

from without; and for an instant the rectangle of snowy starlight

flashes out with the figure of a man silhouetted in black upon it.
The shutters close immediately; and the room.is dark again.

27
There were several places in the remaining part of the act where the
window was mentioned or used, but the examples given should suffice to
indicate that Shaw did not put the window in the setting merely for
decoration.

Shaw in the same manner made extensive use of the ottoman. On
Catherine's first entrance Raina "pulls her mother down on the otto-
man; and they kiss one another frantically". After Bluntschli's
entrance he picks up Raina's cloak off the ottoman where she had placed
it upon retiring. At the same time he throws his revolver down on the
ottoman with the remark, "This is a better weapon than the revolver".
Several pages later; "Riana walks with studied elegance to the otto—
man and sits down. Unfortunately she sits on the pistol, and jumpS‘up
with a shriek". Again Shaw directs that Bluntschli "sits down on the
ottoman, and takes his head in his hands". The ottoman is a very im.
portant piece of furniture to the setting and Shaw makes a great deal
of use of it.

The bed also comes into use a number of times and becomes a very
functional item of furniture. Before Bluntschli's entrance the script
indicates that "she gets into bed and prepares to read herself to
sleep". Not long after "she scrambles out of bed, and hastily blows
out the candle on the chest of drawers..... She runs to the dressing
table, blows out the light there, and hurries back to bed in the dark".
There are also many instances when they merely use the bed as a place
to sit. At the end of the act Raina leaves the room and when she returns

with her mother Bluntschli is found asleep on the bed.

28

As was illustrated, the ottoman and bed play a very important
part in the action of Act I. Their placement on the stage therefore
must be given careful consideration if they are to function in the
manner in which Shaw intended.

In reading through Act I the designer discovered that the only
item in the room.which was not actually used was the washstand. The
chest and dressing table came into use several times as they were used
to hold properties which were essential to the action. In directing
the specific properties to be found on these two pieces of furniture,
Shaw did not indicate one item that was not used during the course of
the act.

Shaw indicated in Act II that there were to be two entrances
left, each reached by a short flight of steps. One of these entrances
was into the house and the other to a path that went around the house.
On the right there was another entrance that lead to the stable yard.
Between these entrances was found two furniture groupings; to the right
near the stable entrance was located a garden bench, and in the middle
of the garden a small table with two chairs. This furniture arrange-
ment left the playing area uncluttered and clearly defined. The mini-
mum amount of furniture required by Shaw for this act did not provide
for more than three people to be seated on stage at any one time, nor
did the action call for more than two or three persons to appear on
stage at any one time.

The uncluttered aspect of the stage provided for the many scenes

where only a small number of actors were involved, making it easier for

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29
the director to move them.about during the scenes without being handi-
capped by a number of pieces of unnecessary furniture. The script
indicated only a very few times when anyone was actually seated; for
the most part the action was centered around the entrances and in the
areas between the entrances and the table, center. Most of the scenes
are relatively short and do not require that the actors be seated, in
fact the action and interplay between them.actually prevented it.

The designer appreciated the lack of furniture on the stage
because of the small size of the stage on which it was necessary to
to work. This seemingly small item made it possible for the designer
to keep the floor plan very similar to the one Shaw described.

Act III returned the action to the interior of the Petkoff
house later in the same day. For this room Shaw demands more in.the
way of furniture, and the reason seems obvious after reading through
the play. The major portion of the act concerns itself with a discus-
sion of the events of the preceeding acts and.the resolution of the
problem of who will marry whom. With this more typical Shavian writ-
ing it is absolutely necessary to provide adequate furniture groupings
to satisfy the need for variety in the action.1 Although there are
exceptions, generally speaking Shaw usually has several scenes in his
plays where very little happens except for long conversations between

the characters.

 

1Eric Bentley, The Playwright §§_Thinker, (New York: Reynal
and Hitchcock, 19%), p. 152.

30

The furniture groupings for Act III as Shaw specifies them are
as follows: a table with two chairs left; a window seat below the
three large windows; a large ottoman similar to the one in Act I, and
a chair by the stove, right. This arrangement allowed more than ade-
quate seating for the number of persons on stage at any one time,
since both the ottoman and window seat would accomodate several per-
sons at a time if the director so desired. The groupings were such
that they also made use of all the available acting areas on stage.

A few battered novels, some gift books, and trophies standing
about on some hanging shelves completed the furnishings of the room.
Apparently this is Shaw's way of poking fun at these people. The
room is obviously lacking in books although it is supposed to be a
library, and Raina speaks so proudly of their library in Act I.,
that the contrast is striking when one views the actual room.

Shaw, in this act as in the previous acts, indicated the use
that should be made of each of the furniture groupings. The otto-
man comes in for more than its share of the action because of the
functional nature of its design. The stove as indicated does not
serve any purpose other than decor and as motivation for the entrance
of Nicola during his scene with Louka. The motivation in this case
is an arm load of logs which he brings in for the stove. A resourceful
director would have no difficulty devising some equally effective
motivation for this entrance should the stove be eliminated.

The following illustrations indicate the extensive and varied

use Shaw desired for the table and ottoman. The opening of the act

31
finds Bluntschli and Sergius sitting at the table working over some
papers and maps.

SERGIUS: Yes: we'll manage it. He finds out what to do; draws
'up the orders; and I sign em. Division of labor! (Bluntschli
passes him a paper). Another one? Thank you. (He plants the
paper squarely before him sets his chair carefully parallel to it
and signs with his cheek on his elbow and.his protruded tongue
following the movements of his pen).
Several pages later Louka enters and says to Bluntschli, "For you.
(She empties the salver with a fling on to the table). The messen—
ger is waiting". After a scene between Bluntschli, Raina and Sergius,
Shaw indicates the following action: "He goes with dignity to the door
and opens it. A yell of fury bursts from him.as he looks out. He
darts into the passage, and returns dragging in Louka, whom he flings
violently against the table".

During a scene between Raina and Bluntschli "She sits down on
the ottoman looking straight before her with her hands clasped around
her knee. Bluntschli, quite touched, goes to the ottoman with a par-
ticularly reassuring and considerate air, and sits down beside her".
In the follOWing scene between Louka and Nicola the script states that
"he puts the logs down, and seats himself comfortably on the ottoman."
A few pages later Sergius enters and sits on the ottoman, "sprawling
magnificently".

These illustrations are only a few of the many times these two
items of furniture were mentioned in the dialogue and stage directions.
A careful study of the script indicates that when Shaw describes the

elements of a setting he fully intends that these elements should be

used. The illustrations given in the preceeding pages point out how

32

important the furniture groupings are to Shaw as he specifically di-
rects their use throughout the script.

Shaw's stage directions consider other aspects of the play as
well as the settings. Quoted in Chapter II was the:statement by
Shaw that he felt the faces of the speakers should be seen quite
distinctly. From this one could assume that he is greatly interested
in the visual aspects of the production as they are reflected in the
lighting.

In Arms and the Man Shaw is not specific as to the lighting

 

requirements, but he does outline them in general terms in the intro-
duction to each act as well as describing the use of the candles
throughout Act I.

The description.that precedes Act I and notes within.the act
itself indicate the following lighting effects:

Night: ....through an open window....a peak of the Balkans, won-
derfully white and beautiful in the starlit snow..... Above the
bed. ... a light.. .. in a pierced metal ball suspended by three
chains..... The room is lighted by a candle on the chest of
drawers, and another on the dressing table.....

Shaw also gives direction for the use of the above mentioned candles.
At the end of the opening scene Raina climbs into bed;

A distant shot breaks the quiet of the night. She starts, listen-
ing; and two more shots, much nearer, follow, startling her so
that she scrambles out of bed, and.hastily blows out the candle
on the chest of drawers. Then,.... she runs to the dressing table,
blows out the light there, and.hurries back to bed in the dark;
nothing being visible but the glimmer of the light in the pierced
ball.... and the starlight seen through the slits at the top of
the shutters. ....the shutters disappear, pulled open from with-
-out; and for an instant the rectangle of snowy starlight flashes
out with the figure of a man silhouetted in the black upon it.

The shutters close immediately; and the room is dark again. ....
Then there is a scratch; and the flame of a match is seen in the
middle of the room.

33
Raina cries out and "the match is out instantly". A voice commands,
"Strike a light....", and Raina lights the candle on the chest of
drawers. From this point the candles stay lit for the rest of the Act.

Drawing on the above description, the designer finds three re—
quirements are necessary to light Act I. First there must be specific
illumination of the areas where the candles are located. Second,
there must be enough general illumination to see the actors faces any-
where on stage, but it must not be strong enough to destroy the effect
of the candle light. Third there must be a light source outside the
window to light Raina when she stands on the balcony.

Act II requires lighting of a more general nature than the
specific lighting required for the candles of Act I. Shaw indicates
that "it is a fine spring morning" in the Petkoff garden. From this
the designer knows that the stage will require a general overall illuna
ination of much stronger intensity than that of Act I. The color also
will be different since they will be the cooler tones of daylight
contrasted with the warmer color of the candle light of the first act.

The lighting for Act III is much the same as for Act II, except
that the intensity will be less. The script indicates that the light
in the room is "mellowing afternoon light". Apparently Shaw felt
that the windows would provide sufficient motivation for the light in
the room because he did not provide for any source of light within
the room.

The above details are those from which the designer must work

to light the production. They are simple but sufficient and allow the

3h

designer plenty of leeway in planning a set up that will work with the
equipment at hand.

A third and very important problem that is confronted in design-
ing the settings for Arms and.the Man is that of style. Because of
the multiplicity of styles in use in theatre today and the lack of a
clear interpretation of what elements make up a style the problem be—
comes even more confused. The nomenclature affixed to the various
styles of theatre is felt by Simonson to be no more than lables used
by the critics to catalog our burden of culture.2 Mordecai Gorelik
feels that the careless use of such terms has been more confusing
than.helpful to the theatre.3

Simonson suggests that the plays of Shaw demand a realistic
type of setting because of the locales in which they are set.” Realism,
however, is a word that means many things to many people and as such
has probably been misused more than any other word in theatre.5 That
Shaw's description seems to indicate a realistic type of setting there
is little doubt. The problem is to what degree of realism must a de-

signer resort to fulfill Shaw's requirements.

 

2Lee Simonson, Thgfiggt.g£_Scenic Design, (New York: Harper and
Brother, 1950), p. #7.

3Mordecai Gorelik, New Theatres for Old, (New York: Samuel
Frendh, 1952), p. 26.

“Simonson, The Stage ig_§gt, (New York: 'Harcourt Brace and 00.,
1932). p. #9.

5Gorelik, Loc. ci .

35

For Arms and the Man Shaw's descriptions indicate the need of

 

realism to a degree that will impress upon the audience that the
Petkoff house is nothing more than a garish display of wealth. In
this case the wealth is not great in comparison to western society's
standards, but rather, is the wealth of an uncultured society that
is accustomed to a rather low standard of living.
In Act I Shaw indicates that the "ornamental textile fabrics
in the room.are oriental and gorgeous", while the dressing table is a
"common pine table". The novels are "paperbadked" cheap editions, but
the fur mantle which Raina wears is "worth, on a moderate estimate,
about three times the furniture of the room." This is a room.then
that does not need to be lifted out of some Bulgarian house, but does
need enough realism to emphasize the contrast in the taste of the Pet-
koff family. The character of the family as drawn by Shaw is of
great aid to the designer in working out the specific details of the
design because they point out the type of environment in which they
would surround themselves.
Shaw describes Catherine Petkoff as:

a woman over forty, imperiously energetic, with magnificent black

hair and eyes, who might be a very splendid specimen of the wife

of a mountain farmer, but_is determined to be a Viennese lady, and

to that end wears a fashionable tea gown on all occasions.
This description together with Raina's remark, "I belong to the family
of the Petkoffs, the richest and best known in our country" is an in-

dication of their attempt to display a style of living which is new to

th 8111.

36
This attempt at a way of life new to them is further brought
out by Shaw in the following lines from Act I:

RAINA: You showed great ignorance in thinking that it was neces-
sary to climb up to the balcony because ours is the only private
house that has two rows of windowe. There is a flight of stairs
inside to get up and down by.

THE MAN: Stairs! How grand! You live in great luxury indeed,
dear young lady.

RAINA: Do you know what a librany is?

THE MAN: A library? A room full of books?

RAINA: Yes. We have one, the only one in Bulgaria.

THE MAN: Actually a real library! I should like to see that.
RAINA: (affectedly) I tell you these things to shew you that you
are not in the house of ignorant country folk who would kill you
the moment they saw your Serbian uniform, but among civilized
people. We go to Bucharest every year for the opera season; and
I have spent a whole month in Vienna.

Several lines in.Act II furnish additional clues to the char-
acter of the Petknffs and the house they live in.

PETKOFF: And.how have you been, my dear?

CATHERINE: Oh, my usual sore throats: thats all.

IETKOFF: (with conviction) That comes from washing your neck
every day. I've often told you so.

CATHERINE: Nonsense, Paul!

PETKOFF: (over his coffee and cigaret) I dont believe in going
too far with these modern customs. All this washing cant be good
for the health: its not natural. There was an Englishman at
Philippopolis who used to wet himself all over with cold water
every morning when he got up. Disgusting! It all comes from the
English: their climate makes them so dirty that they have to be
perpetually washing themselves. Look at my father! he never had
a bath in his life; and he lived to be ninety-eight, the health-
iest man in Bulgaria. I dont mind a good wash once a week to keep
up my position; but once a day is carrying the thing to a ridic-
ulous extreme.

CATHERINE: You are a barbarian at heart still, Paul. I hope yai
behaved yourself before all those Russian officers.

PETKOFF: I did my best. I took care to let them.know that we
have a library.

CATHERINE: Ah; but you didn't tell them that we have an electric
bell in it? I have had one put'up.

PETKOFF: Whats an electric bell?

CATHERINE: You touch a button; something tinkles in the kitchen;
and then Nicola comes up.

PETKOFF: Why not shout for him?

37

CATHERIxE : Civilized people never shout for their servants. I've
learnt that while you were away.

PETKOFF: Well I'll tell you something I've learnt too. Civilized
people dont hang out their washing to dry where visitors can see
it; so youd better have all that (indicating the clothes on the
bushes) put somewhere else.

These passages from the first two acts, and Shaw's description
from the third act on the actual lack of a library gives an indication
of the manner in which the Petkoff's live and the extent of their
values.

Henderson in his biography of Shaw states that,

Shaw is entitled to call his play realistic. In essence Arms and
the Man is a romantic comedy with a delightfully satric slant.
The "realistic" details are really Shaw's comedic touches in the6
exposure of illusions of warfare, of love, of romantic idealism.

The general scenic requirements for Shaw's plays do not in all
aspects agree with the requirements of Arms and the Han. A study of
the script indicates that the elements that are specified are quite
necessary, for the most part, to the action of the play. But the set-
tings as described and the lines of the script do not indicate that
the degree of realism required for most of Shaw's plays is necessary
for Arms and the Man.

The designer felt that the satiric slant of the play would lend
itself very nicely to a less realistic style of production than is
usually seen on the stage in connection with a Shaw play, providing

that none of the essential requirements of the setting as described

by Shaw were eliminated. Realistic in this case means the apparent

 

bArchibald Henderson, Bernard Shaw (New York: D. Appleton and
Co., 1932), p. “72.

 

38
reality of illusion rather than the faithful reproduction of natural-
ism.

Part I of this chapter has considered three aspects of Shaw's

script for Arms and the Han: l. the general floor plan including furni-

 

ture groupings and the acting areas; 2. the lighting specified by Shaw;
and 3. the general style of production indicated by the script. From
the analysis of this information the designer decided that the setting
could be done in a style less demanding of the facilities available.
The following section will indicate the part that the physical layout
of the theatre played in formulating this decision.

II. THE SCENIC REQUIREXEUTS IHEOSBD BY THE

PHYSICAL LIMITATIONS OF THE PLAYHOUSE

Consideration having been given to the script in the preceding
section, attention must now be focused on the theatre in which the
production was given.

Before the designer can give any serious thought to the final
design of the setting he is going to put on the stage, he must know
the physical limitations of the stage itself. "His designs correspond
to stage conditions; at their best they are not only limited but in.
spired by the special conditions of the stage."7 If the setting is to
be practicable it must meet the specific technical demands of the stage

on which it will be used.8

 

7Mordecai Gorelik, "Designing the Play! Producing th§.§lay, ed.
John Gassner, (New York: Dryden Press, l9hl), p. 308.

8Samuel Selden and H. D. Sellman, Stage Sgenery gpd_Lighting,

39

The technical demands of which a designer must be aware are:
l. the size and shape of the auditorium and stage, 2. the size of the
proscenium opening and sight lines from the auditorium, 3. the shift-
ing facilities available, and M. the lighting equipment at hand.9

The size and shape of the stage of the Lake Midhigan Playhouse

is anything but ideal for a theatrical production.

 

_______| £5 t——————.

 

 

 

 

FIGURE 1

The available off stage space is meager and the unusual shape limits,
to a great extent, the type of setting that can be used. As can be
seen in Figure l the general shape of the stage is an inverted "T".
This unorthodox shape does not lend itself well to any type of real—

istic setting except a shallow box set. Exterior settings are next

 

New York: Appleton-Century-Crofts, Inc., 1936), p. 13.

91b1d.

1+0
to impossible because of a lack of depth across the full width of the
stage.

The useable stage space consists of Areas A and B as indicated
in Figure 1. Area A measures thirty-two feet by eleven feet, and area
B measures sixteen feet by eleven feet. This gives a total depth in
the center of the stage of twenty-two feet, which leaves five feet of
area A available as off stage space on each side of the stage.

One unusual aspect of the stage is the ceiling over areas A and
B. Both are arched ceilings but that over area B is several feet
lower than that over area A. This difference has always presented a
problem on stage since the standard flat used is twelve feet in
height. In order to clear the ceiling a flat of this size cannot be
placed closer than two feet to the side walls of area B. This leaves
only twelve feet of maximum width in that area for use by the designer
in his settings.

The areas marked C and D are separated by walls from the rest
of the stage. These areas each measure five feet by twelve feet and
serve as dressing rooms and property storage space for the productions.
As can be seen in Figure 1, there are three possible means of getting
on to the stage area from each of these rooms. ’

Area E is a passage way which serves to connect areas C and D,
and also as a means of getting on to the stage from the up center posi-

tion. This passage way is twenty-seven inches in width which makes it

practically useless for any other purpose than a crossover back stage.

1+1

Four entrances to the stage are indicated in Figure l by the
letters F, G, H, and I. Doors F and G open directly outdoors, while
H and I open on the auditorium. These entrances are in reality fire
exits and required by local fire laws. This arrangement provides no
end of difficulties for the designer because the area leading to these
doors must be kept clear at all times. With only five feet of off—
stage space on either side of Area A it is difficult to provide backings
for entrances and still keep the area clear.

The auditorium of the Playhouse is the same width as area A of
the stage, thrity—two feet. The depth of the auditorium, including
the lounge, is forty-five feet. This area provides room for two hun-
dred seats wdthout crowding. An additional number of folding chairs
can be placed in the lounge area to take care of over-capacity crowds.
On the right side of the lounge is located the entrance hall and box
office, while on the left side is a small refreshment stand. Other
areas of the building whidh are limited to the playhouse staff are a
make—up and storage room over the lounge area, and a basement shop
which covers approximately one third of the fore part of the building.
This shop is used only for building properties and small units of
scenery because there is no way in Which larger units and flats can be
moved in or out.

The second demand of the theatre which the designer must con-
sider is that the size of the proscenium opening and the sight lines
from the auditorium. The opening for the Lake Michigan Playhouse stage

measures twenty-two feet wide by ten feet high. Seating arrangement

’42
in the auditorium provided for three aisles, one on each side and one
down the center. Allowing three feet for the side aisles leaves the
extreme side seats only two feet outside the line of the proscenium
opening. This arrangement makes the sight lines of the Playhouse almost
perfect. The designer felt that this was fortunate since a maximum
use of the proscenium.opening was possible in the design for é£m§.and.

With sight lines which were almost perfect the designer found
it possible to run the set walls straight up stage from the proscenium
opening without being lost completely to sight by more than six people
in the extreme outside seats in the first three rows. According to
Gorelik, the problem of sight lines is one of the most fundamental re-
quirements with which the designer has to deal. Faulty sight lines are
common in many theatres and few settings are fully visable from all
angles.10 Since this condition is commonly found in the commercial
theatre the designer felt fortunate in being able to design the settings
without the necessity of working around the problem of faulty sight
lines.

Consideration of the shifting facilities on the stage of the
Lake Hichigan Playhouse entails two major problems: 1. all scenery
must be shifted by hand; 2. the lack of adequate backstage space in
which to shift or store scenery. As was noted earlier in this chapter,
unless an extremely shallow set is used, backstage space is at a pre-

miums The low ceilings prevent the installation of a grid system and

 

loGorelik, 92. 3133,, p. 316.

‘43
so eliminates any possibility of flying scenery. The lack of offstage
space in the wings also prevents any use of stage wagons to facili-
tate shifting. This complete lack of shifting facilities was one of
the major problems which the designer had to solve in providing three
settings for §£m§_and the Man.

The final element of the Playhouse facilities which the designer
had to consider was that of lighting. Fortunately the stage was ade-
quately equipped with lighting instruments and dimming equipment. To
light the upper areas of the stage, a pipe on which fourteen instrup
ments were mounted was hung three feet in back of the proscenium Open.
ing. To light the downstage area, spotlights were mounted in an openp
ing on the upper level of the Playhouse. This opening is thirty feet
from the proscenium.and fifteen feet above the stage floor. The
lighting angle was flat, but was sufficient for general downstage area
lighting.

The dimming equipment consisted of two dimmer boards hooked
through an inter-connecting panel. One board was of the portable
piano box variety and contained the master switch and three drum type
resistance dimmers. .ese dimmers were of one, three thousand and two,
two thousand watt capactiy. The second board was of the portable
Powerstat variety and was hooked into the master switch of the re-
sistance board. This board consisted of three, two thousand watt
inter-locking dimmers which were not connected to any type of master
control. The thirteen thousand watts of dimming capacity provided by
these two boards was barely adequate, but proved to be quite flexible

when used in conjunction with the inter-connecting panel.

uh

The inner-connecting panel consists of forty-eight outlets in
pairs. Each pair of outlets is controlled by its own switch. These
individual switdhes are set in groups of three with each group being
controlled by a master switdh. This whole system is divided into four
twelve outlet circuts WhiCh lead to the dimmers. Three of these cir-
cuits were connected to the Powerstat unit and one to the three thoup
sand watt resistance dimmer. This arrangement left two dimmers avail-
able for any special lighting setups, making the lighting sufficiently
flexible for most productions on this stage.

The limitations which the designer faced in designing for the
Lake Michigan Playhouse stage can be summarized as follows: the stage
area itself was not of sufficient size and shape to be considered
minimum for more than the average one set play; shifting facilities
were none; with no overhead grid system and no space in which to use
wagons; and storage space for scenery and props backstage was meager.
The advantages of the stage were the excellent sight lines and an ade—
quate lighting system. With these technical requirements in mind the
designer proceeded to consider the final aspect of the production which

would influence the design; the specific requirements of the director.

III. SPECIFIC REQUIREMENTS OF THE DIRECTOR

One important aspect of the designer's job is to work closely
with the director to produce a coordinated prodution. Conferences with
the director are an important element in scene design, for no setting

can be properly integrated with the production as a whole unless the

L“5
director and designer come to an agreement on the meaning and style of
the production.

Designer and director are, or should be, alter egos. The director's
general conception of a performance, its rhythm, tone, tempo, and
pattern of movement, determines the essential design of a production.
A designer's scheme of setting the stage and lighting it determines
how a play can be performed. A director's suggestions may be gen-
eral, or concrete or incomplete. Many may be given to the director
by the designer. The success of a production depends on how suc—
cessfully the two are able to collaborate, on theldegree to which

a designer's and director's imagination coalesce.

{any complicated problems arise out of a situation such as de-
scribed above* for the finished production is the work of the director
designer, and playwright who often is not present to explain his inter-
pretation of the play.

The problem of unity develops even more complicating factors when
the playwright is a man of Shaw's caliber and reputation, for he has
definite ideas as to the meaning of his plays. The stage directions
of Shaw's plays are long and detailed. Few elements are ever over-
looked, for Shaw was not one to deal in vague generalities when it came
to describing his characters, their actions, and environment.

In conference with the director three important aspects of.Anns

and the Man had to be agreed.upon: 1. the general floor plan and furni—

 

ture locations; 2. the style in which the settings would be executed;
and 3. the lighting that would be used, particularly in Act I.
One of the first problems Which had to be resolved in discussing

the floor plans was the number of sets which would be used in the

 

llLee Simonson, The Art 9:.Scenig_Design, (flew York: Harper and
Brothers, 1950), p. 31.

46
production. Shaw describes three entirely different settings in his

stage directions for Arms and the Han. Both director and designer

 

agreed that the play could be produced in two settings by using either
the Act II or Act III setting suffice for both acts. The general con-
census of opinion on this point, however, was that this would not com.
pletely fulfill the requirements of the play as it was written by Shaw.
To eliminate either setting would mean that some of the lines and action
would have to be cut entirely or rewritten. As was indicated by one
source quoted in Chapter II,12 any action of this type would not have
been in keeping with the desires of Shaw for he disliked anyone tamper-
ing with his scripts.

The designer also desired to produce the play with the settings
as described by Shaw to show how a play with difficult scenic require-
ments might be produced in a summer theatre with limited facilities
without any major alteration of the playwright's specifications.

With the director and designer in agreement that the play should
be produced in three settings, the decision was made to go along with
Shaw as far as the Playhouse facilities would permit.

Once the number of settings had been determined the next step
was to decide upon a general floor plan for each. The designer pointed
out that in order to put three settings on the Playhouse stage they
would have to be confined to Area A (Figure l) in order to provide

sufficient backstage space for production needs. The director was

 

12W. J. Friederich and J. H. Fraser, Scenery Design_for the
Amateur Stage, (New York: The Macmillan 00., 1950), p. 28.

 

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1+7
agreeable to this providing the essential pieces of furniture as spec—
ified by Shaw were used in each setting. The director also requested
that the furniture be kept to a minimum size to provide as much space
as possible in the limited area that would be available on stage.

The designer was of the opinion, at this point, that it would
be possible to keep the original plan of the settings as described by
Shaw thus eliminating the possibility of changing any of the essential
action described by him. The ground plans as they were broken down
in part two of this chapter were quite simple with few architectural
requirements other than the doors. This factor was felt to be suf—
ficient indication that they would work into the design regardless of
the style chosen for the production.

In discussing the style in which the play would be produced the
major factor that had to be considered was not to be realistic or non,
realistic, but rather the degree of realism that was necessary to main,
tain the satiric flavor of the play as Shaw had written it. Both the
director and designer felt that the satiric slant of Shaw's writing
would justify a stylized type of production involving simplified or
selected realism. This meant that the settings would be constructed
of small, light, easily shifted units Which occupy a minimum amount of
backstage space when not in use. The details of this style of design
as it evolved will be discussed in Chapter IV.

With tentative style of production in mind the problem of light-
ing remained to be considered. The director was of the opinion that

the lighting should be as similar to that proposed in the script as

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1+7
agreeable to this providing the essential pieces of furniture as spec—
ified by Shaw were used in each setting. The director also requested
that the furniture be kept to a minimum size to provide as much space
as possible in the limited area that would be available on stage.

The designer was of the opinion, at this point, that it would
be possible to keep the original plan of the settings as described by
Shaw thus elhminating the possibility of changing any of the essential
action described by him. The ground plans as they were broken down
in part two of this chapter were quite simple with few architectural
requirements other than the doors. This factor was felt to be suf-
ficient indication that they would work into the design regardless of
the style chosen for the production.

In discussing the style in hich the play would be produced the
major factor that had to be considered was not to be realistic or non.
realistic, but rather the degree of realism that was necessary to main,
tain the satiric flavor of the play as Shaw had written it. Both the
director and designer felt that the satiric slant of Shaw's writing
would justify a stylized type of production involving simplified or
selected realism. This meant that the settings would be constructed
of small, light, easily shifted units which occupy a minimum amount of
backstage space when not in use. The details of this style of design
as it evolved will be discussed in Chapter IV.

With tentative style of production in mind the problem of light-
ing remained to be considered. The director was of the opinion that

the lighting should be as similar to that proposed in the script as

1+8

possible, especially in Act I Where Shaw had written specific lighting
effects. (The designer agreed that in order to maintain the mood and
atmosphere of Act I the lighting would have to be essentially the same
as indicated in the script, for much of the success of the act depends
on the lighting.) As for the other two acts the lighting was of such
a general nature that it presented no forseeable problems.

These then were the problems presented to the designer by the
director: 1. design the production in three settings as prescribed
by Shaw, 2. provide as mudhcflear area as possible on stage, 3. maintain
the same major furniture groupings specified by Shaw inso far as pos-
sible, M. simplity'as necessary, to keep the setting practical for the
playhouse stage and within the limited budget alloted, but maintain a
style in keeping with the script as it was written by Shaw, 5. light

the production according to the demands of Shaw.

CHAPTER IV

THE DESIGN OF TEE SETTINGS

CHAPTER IV

THE -ESIGN OF THE SETTINGS

Upon first reading the script, the designer noticed that Shaw
described the settings as being influenced by both Europe and the
Orient. Bulgaria, being situated in the east of Europe, was very close
to Turkmy and Asia Minor and so logically would tend to absorb some of
its culture and architecture. The European influences would no doubt
come principaly from Bulgaria‘s western neighbors Austria, Hungary, and
Roumania. Shaw makes several references to Vienna and Budapest in the
dialogue while discussing the opera, fashions, and the ladies' yearly
trip to these cities.

4 The designer received the impression that the oriental influence
of the furnishings contrasting with occidental wallpaper and cheap pine
table as described in Act I was a deliberate attempt by Shaw to heighten
the effect of his satire against romantic idealism. As Shaw so effec-
tively puts it the room is a combination of "half rich Bulgarian, half
cheap Viennese".

The initial concept of the design for the Playhouse production
of Arms and the Man was visualized as three sets using the above men-
tioned combination of occidental and oriental influences. After many
rough sketches and ground plans, however, the three set approadh ap-
peared to be impossible on the Playhouse stage if the use of three com-

plete sets was involved.

51
not wanting to abandon the original plan of using the three sets
as described by Shaw, the designer contemplated the possibility of us-
ing only two sets, but designing the Act I setting in such a manner
that it could be changed sufficiently to serve as the library in Act III.

This plan was considered the most logical approach to the prob-
lem since it would out both the cost of the settings and the required
storage space by one third. The designer felt that the best method of
accomplishing this multiple use of the scenery was by the construction
of a unit setting.

Working from a sketch which involved the use of a danrunit and
several arches supported by pillars the designer recognized the possi-
bility of constructing them in such a way that the pillars could be re-
moved and the arches inverted to produce a completely different set-
ting. With this idea in mind, the possibility of also using the same
setting for Act II was envisioned. Since the Act II setting in its
simplest form was nothing more than a garden wall it would be a simple
matter to remove the arches completely leaving the basic flats to
serve as this wall. This move would again cut production costs and
help relieve the backstage storage problem to the point where the de-
signer felt that the Playhouse stage could accomodate the necessary
scenery and properties needed for the production.

The design was outlined to the director in its rough form and
accepted by him as an excellent solution to the problem of producing
a multi-set play on the Playhouse stage. With the basic design idea
agreed upon by the designer and director, the next step was to work

out the final design and technical problems involved in its execution.

52

The design problem seemed to resolve itself as follows: to put
three settings on the stage with a minimum use of scenery; to keep the
scenery simple and easy to shift by hand in a limited amount of time;
to eliminate the need to reshift dead scenery during scene changes;
and to maintain the "half rich, half cheap" flavor of the settings
recommended by Shaw. |

The unit setting would consist of a number of standard sized
wall flats and arch units which could be arranged in various combin-
ations to provide the needed settings for each act. The major problem
evolving out of this type of setting was to keep the settings detailed
enough to fulfill the realistic requirements of the script and at the
same time generalized enough to be ambiquous and, therefore, usable
in both interior and exterior settings without looking out of place.

The style of the design was envisioned as a combination of two
styles, generally called simplified realism and stylism. A great deal
of ambiguity exists among twentieth century designers as to exact def-
initions of the various styles of scene design employed by these very
designers. Therefore, no one set of definitions can be considered a
definition source. However, the ambiguity lies in the details used
to achieve the various styles of design rather than in the basic idea
underlying the style, with the result that when designers speak of
simplified realism or stylism they are referring to styles of staging
that can be defined as to basic concept but defy definition as to de-
tail used to achieve the style. Realism on the stage is not the real-

ism of actual life-—it is the result of a careful and deliberate

53
selection of those details which will contribute to the desired effect
.and the exclusion of those details which.might be present in real life
but which do not contribute to the design. Thus stage realism can be
thought of as a simplification of the realism of life. Simplified
realism goes a step further away from the real of life in that the
selection of detail included in the design is still more strict. Thus
the designer seeks more to suggest place than to portray place. In
this type of setting the selection of details must be more carefully
made in order to get the most characteristic elements of the particu-
lar locale. The approach to this type of design revolves around the
reducing of the major elements of the setting to basic forms, lines
and colors to suggest the possibility of a complete whole. The backb
ground for this type of setting is usually a sky drop or cyclorama.

The advantages of this type of setting for the stage with limited
equipment is that it requires fewer scenery elements, thereby saving
expense, time in building, and storage space. Shifting is also reduced
to a minimum.

For the designer, the use of simplified realism is always a challenge,
because any experienced hand knows that it is far easier to clutter
the stage with a multitude of items than to create an interesting
impression of the whole with a minimum of details.1

The second style used in conjunction with simplified realism was
that of stylism. In approaching this type of design the forms of the
setting are changed from realistic to non-realistic. This is done be-
cauecthe designer feels that the change will interpret the play in a

more individualistic style. The motivation for the change must come

 

1?} J. Friederich and J. H. Fraser, Scenery_Design for the Ama—
teur Stagg, (New York: hacmillan Co., 1950), p. 12.

 

51+
from the script, and should add some commentary to the theme of the

play. In the case of Arms and the Kan this commentary involves the

 

satiric but gpod natured ribbing of primitive Bulgaria and.the shat-
tering of romantic idealism.

This style of design requires that the designer recognize the
exaggerated treatment of people, places or ideas which are not com.
pletely taken from real life, and help the audience to recognize the
same thing by exaggerating the settings to underline this treatment.
In stylism the style of presenting the object is emphasized more than
the object itself. The emphasis is usually attained in the same manner
as simplified realism, through the conventionalization of the basic
forms, line, and color.

The use of a combination of stylization and simplified realism
is not uncommon. The designer uses the one style in eliminating all
unnecessary elements of the setting, and frequently slips into the
other style in interpreting the essential items of the scene.

The general form of the settings as the designer saw them are
as follows: Act I would consist of a wall and.an inverted arch unit
right, a French window unit center flanked by a wall and arch unit
similar to the one right, and a double door unit left; Act II would
be the wall units used in Act I minus the arch units, and supplemented
by several smaller wall units to replace the door and window; Act III
would use the door from Act I stage right and the rest of the setting
would be the wall and arch units, with the arch units in a normal posi-

tion and supported by pillars.

55

The designer felt that using the arches in an inverted position
for Act I would give the room a definite feminine characteristic as
well as a certain splendor brought about by their upward sweeping mo-
tion. This would be in direct contrast to the lofty appearance of the
Act III set with the arches mounted on the pillars and the openings
between giving the suggestion of windows. The walls along with the
espalier trees was considered realistic enough to set the locale for
Act II.

In keeping with the stylized design of the setting the color
needed to be one that would be suitable for all three acts. Since
part of the units were to be used in the garden setting some neutral
color was felt to be best because it would not be obtrusive in either
interior or exterior setting. The designer therefore decided to paint
all of the scenery a light beige. This color was chosen because it
was warm and would suit the comedy element of the play better than
some cooler neutral color. No spattering or other means of obtaining
the illusion of texture were to be used because the stark flatness of
the walls would seem to fit the satiric feeling of the play better.

Having detennined the general form the settings would take, the
next step was to lay out the floor plan for each act to determine the
exact number of basic flats, arches, doors, and special scenery details
that would be needed. At this time the tentative arrangement of the
furniture was sketched on the floor plan for the director's approval.
With this step of the design accomplished the designer was able to de-
termine the amount of space that would be necessary for backstage pur-

poses.

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56

From the rough ground plans, the minimum amount of backstage
space that could be allotted would be area B as indicated in Figure l.
The allotment of this space as storage area limited the designer to
area A for the settings.

Since a stylized type of setting utilizing cut down wall sec-
tions was to be used in the production, it was necessary to enclose
area A with draperies to keep the backstage area from the view of the
audience. Three choices were open to the designer as to the color of
these draperies, since gray, tan, and black cyclaramas were available.
The designer felt that the black was more suitable for Acts I and III,
but that the tan would be better for Act II. Because the stage facil-
ities would not permit the flying of scenery only one color could be
used. The designer decided upon the black "eye" since it would be

better suited for the major part of the play.

 

 

Figure 2

Figure 2 indicates the floor plan of Act I as was used in the
production. Shaw's direction demanded two entrances for this act; a
door E leading to the rest of the house and a French window C with

balcony overlooking the street. This latter unit was special for Act I

COLOR SKETCH
ACT I

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59
as it could not be used in the other two acts. The unit was essential
to the action, however, and could not be eliminated.

The placement of the window unit upstage center divided the rear
wall into three clearly defined sections. Since all three settings
would make use of the maximum amount of stage space available the de-
signer decided to divide the walls into a modular plan of eight foot
sections. This modular plan meant that all wall sections, arch units,
and doors would be of the same width, and therefore interchangeable
with each other any place in the setting. Although the eight foot
sections would not extend to the proscenium Opening on the sides of
of the sets the opening left was not disturbing to the balance of the
settings as a whole. The black drapery visible in this area, was also
visible above the wall sections and served to keep the setting unified.

The Act II floor plan was very similar to that of Act I, with
the entrances located in approximately the same positions. Although
stage area used for this Act was the same as for Act I, the acting
area within the wall was much less. This was brought about by the need
for space between the garden walls and the "cyc" for entrances and
exits. To provide this space the designer moved the basic wall flats
A, B, and D (Figure 2) away from the "cyc" and.used four smaller flats
in place of the French window and door unit.

The stage directions by Shaw suggested that a part of the house
should be showing on stage. The designer, however, felt that this was
not essential to the action and therefore could be eliminated from the

setting. Since the location of the house was adequately established

 

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D C, Hausoe

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Figure N.

through the dialogue and the entrances and exits, the house was as well
represented being off stage. The setting as non-realistic to the de-
gree that the landscape background was replaced by the black "cyc" thus
the elimination of the house as an actual part of the setting was in
keeping with the stylized.design.

To further the feeling of a garden, but staying within the
stylized form of the setting, two artifical espalier trees were placed
up center, right and left of the center entrance. These provided addi-
tional color for the setting as well as giving it a touch of the south
of Europe where espalier trees are ordinarily found.

The only entrance required by the script for Act III is shown
in Figure 6. This entrance was opposite that of Act I, but used the
same door unit. To provide for the correct hinging of the doors on
both sides of the stage a double door unit was designed.

Five pillars and an additional wall flat and arch unit I which
were used only in Act III were added to the setting,these pillars were
used to support the arch units above wall sections A, B, D, and I.

Space for the books and decorative props indicated oym aiaw was provided

COLOR SKETCH

ACT II

Figure 5.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Figure 6.

for in the setting through a ledge at the top edge of the wall sections
A, B, and D.

A comparison of the floor plans for the three acts revealed that
the scenery shift from one act to another could be accomplished with a
minimum movement of scenery. The three settings consisted of only
twenty pieces of scenery as follows: eight wall flats, four arches,
one French window, one door unit, five pillars and two gates. This
scenery, as it was used in each act, breaks down in the following order:
Act I, three wall flats, three arches, French window unit, and the
double door unit. All of these pieces were built on the modular plan
incorporated in the design of the setting. Act II used the same three
wall flats plus four smaller wall flats and the two gates. As was in-
dicated earlier the four smaller wall flats were necessary to provide
Space between the "cyc" and the setting and were used only in this act.
Act III retained the three larger wall flats and in addition used the
fOur-arches, another of the larger wall flats, five pillars and the

double door unit.

COLOR SKETCH

ACT III

Figure 7.

 

 

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66

The furniture used in the three settings was much as it was in—
dicated by Shaw with a few exceptions. These exceptions ocurred in
Acts I and III.

The furniture for Act I consisted of a canopied bed, a night
stand, a chest of drawers, and an ottoman with a centen.back rest.

The dressing table and washstand also listed in the script by Shaw
were eliminated because they were not essential to the action and would
have taken up space on an already limited stage area. The bed was
located stage right running parallel to the footlights, with the night
stand next to the Wall on the down stage side. The ottoman was placed
left of center with the chest behind it left of the French window and
against the upstage wall.

Each of the above mentioned pieces of furniture were essential
to the action of the play as Shaw wrote it. The bed and ottoman were
the functional items of furniture for the actors use and most of the
action was centered around them throughout Act I. The nightstand was
used to hold the candles used as light motivation for the right side
of the stage. All of the properties used in the act were on the chest
of drawers as were the candles used to motivate the stage left lighting.

The bed and ottoman had to be custom built for the production
as it was impossible to locate any furniture that would serve their
purpose on stage. The chest and night stand were both borrowed pieces
and proved very satisfactory in use on stage. In order to achieve
Shaw's desired oriental-occidental contrast, the bed and ottoman were

designed with a definite oriental flavor while the chest and night

 

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67
stand were European pieces of the French provencial period. In order
to enhance the alpearance of the set and to achieve the oriental ef-
fect desired, the bed was covered with a gold brocade material and the
pyramid shaped top and back were covered with a Varigated red, white
and blue material. The side drapes of the canopy and the window dra-
peries were of the some striped material. A dark green corduroy mater-
ial which blended very well with the colors used in the other furniture
and draperies was used to cover the ottoman.

Act II furniture consisted of a table, two chairs and a bench.
This was as Shaw had designated except for one chair which had to be
eliminated because of the confined playing area on the stage. The
chair was not considered essential to the action of this act since
most of the scenes were played between only two people. There was no
time in the act when more than two people had to be seated at the
table even when the scene consisted of more than two persons. With

his condition existing the director felt that the removal of the
chair would be of considerable aid in blocking the action.

The location of the furniture was the same as Shaw had directed
in the script. The bench was placed stage right against the well,
while the table was placed slightly left of center with a chair on each
side. In choosing this furniture the designer decided upon an expensive
looking garden type which would carry through from Act I the centres
between the expensive but not always consistent taste of the Petkoff's.
The contrast was more fully brought out in the dialogue whidh revealed

to the audience their rather primitive standard of living.

b8

For Act III the furniture consisted of a table and two chairs
placed stage right opposite the door, an ottoman (the same one used
in Act I) placed left of center, and a window seat up left. Elimin-
ated from the setting was the stove and another chair indicated by
Shaw. The designer and director felt that the furniture used provided
sufficient seating for the actors, and that the extra stage area gained
by not using these two items was of far more value to the director in
planning the action.

The table and chairs used were not matdhed and obviously out of
place in the room as Shaw had indicated they should be. The table was
painted a light gray and the chairs a bright yellow, giving an addition-
al touch of color to the setting and emphasizing the contrast desired
in this furniture grouping. The ottoman was the same one used in Act
I, but a fringe was added to the bottom to change the appearance
slightly. The window seat added much color to the left side of the
stage with its pleated red satin covering and many pillows of various
bright colors and patterns. On the ledges along the upstage wall of
the set was a hooks and various pieces of oriental art work which were
intended to carry through to Act III the oriental-occidental contrast
used in Act I. The electric bell described by Shaw and mentioned in
the dialogue was mounted on the pillar upleft of center. This item
added another little touch to the incongruity of the situation.

One of the last problems with which the designer had to deal

‘

was that of lighting the production. In Arms and the Jan Shaw indi-

 

cated in the script what the general lighting requirements would be for

b9
each of the acts. In Act I the lighting was motivated entirely by
candle light. This meant that specific lighting of the various areas
would be more important than general illumination. Since the time of
the act was night there would be no need for much light motivated by
the French window. There were several times, however, when the light
outside the window did play an important part in creating atmosphere.

The lighting for Act II presented the designer with an entirely
different lighting problem; for the scene is the garden which required
a more general and unmotivated light than Act I. Fortunately the light-
ing for Act III was very similar to that of Act II. Although the scene
was an interior the only motivating source of light was that which came
through the windows. The main difference in the lighting of these two
acts was in the time of day represented. Act II was the bright daylight
of morning while Act III required the mellowing light of late afternoon.
Had the lighting of these two acts not been similar the designer would
have had a much more difficult lighting problem, because of the limited
number of instruments available with which to light the production.

This chapter covers the initial planning of the design, discus-
sion of the styles used in the design, the basic floorplan, property
requirements, and lighting. The specific technical problems that de-
veloped in the execution of the design, and during the production are

discussed in Chapter VI.

CHAETER V

THE PLAYSCRIET WITH TECHNICAL CUES

ARMS AND THE MAN

By
George Bernard Shaw

Technical Cues
Sound
Lights __"_m_u_.

Properties_______

72

ACT I

Night: A lady's bedchamber in Bulgaria, in a small town
near the Dragoman Pass, late in November in the year 1885.
Through an open window with a little balcony a peak of the
Balkans, wonderfully white and beautiful in the starlit snow,
seems quite close at hand, though it is really miles away.
The interior of the room is not like anything to be seen in
the west of Eurppe. It is half rich Bulgarian, half cheap
Viennese. Above the head of the bad, which stands against
a little wall cutting off the left hand corner of the room,
is a “painted wooden shrine, ”blue and gold "__with an Hivolmge
of Ch;ist__,_ and a uQLhagigbefore it .19.. hpierced metal
ball suspended _by_ three chains. The principal seat, placed
towards the other side of the room and. opposite the window,

1- Wining, The. count erpene and .hanainas-nf_.flle
bed the window captains, the imittle carpetkandmallrthenprng-
amental textile fabrics “in the rpom are oriental and gorgeous;
the paper on the walls is occidental and paltry. Mash:-
_s_tgand against the wall on the side nearest the ottoman and
window, consists of an enamelled iron basin with a pail be-
path it ins. apainted metal “frame, "and a single towel on the
E515; antic side. The dressing table, botween the bed and
the window, is a comon~pine tableLcoveredjtha cloth of
many _colgurs with an erpensiye toilet mirror on it. The door
is on the side nearest the bed; and there is Lgest of drag-_-

 

 

 

 

ers between. This chest of drawers is al_so covered by_a_

backed novels. a box of chocolate creams, and a miniature
easel with a large photograph _of __an utremethandsom officer;
whose lofty bearing and magnetic glance can be felt even from
the Portrait- Theroomi slightsd. 1:1,Ta.“.es;hilahcm~ thsflcheat

at Newman wannabe ..dr 6. 59.1..neshlsblacniahwsnb9w

“HW-*

 

 

The window is hinged doorwise and stands wide Open. Out-
side, a pair of wooden shutters, opening outwards, also stand
open. On the balcony a young lady, intensely conscious of
the romantic beauty of the night, and of the fact that her
own youth and beauty are part of it, is gazing at the snowy
Balkans, She is in her nightgown, well covered by a long
mantle of furs, worth, on a moderate estimate, about three
times the furniture of the room.

Her reverie is interrupted by her,mother, Catherine Petknff,
a woman over forty, imperiously energetic, with magnificent
black hair and eyes, who might be a very splendid specimen of
the wife of a mountain farmer, but is determined to be a

ACT I

0PM ING CURTAIN

Figure 8.

73

 

 

75

Viennese lady, and to that end wears a fashionable tea gown
on all occasions.

CATHERINE (entering hastily, full of good news) Raina!
(She pronounces it Rah-sens, with the stress on the es).
Raina! (She goes to the bed, expecting to find Raina there).
Why, where-m? (Raina looks into the room). Heavens, child!
are you out in the night air instead of in your bed? Youll
catch your death. Lenka told me you were asleep.

RAINA (dreamily) I sent her away. I wanted to be alone.
The stars are so beautiful! What is the matter?

CATHERINE Such news! There has been a battle.

RAH)“ (her eyes dilating) Ah! (She comes eagerly to Cather-
ine e

CATHERINE A great battle Slivnitza! A victory! And it was
won by Sergius.

BAINA (with a cry of delight) Ah! (They embrace rapturous-
ly) 0h, mother! (Then, with sudden anxiety) is father safe?

CATHERINE Of course! he sends me the news. Sergius is the
hero of the hour, the idol of the regiment.

RAINA Tell me, tell me. How was it? (Ecstatically) Oh,
mother.'mother! mother! (She pulls her mother down on the
ottoman; and they kiss one another frantically).

CATHERINE (with surging enthusiasm) You cant guess how
splendid it is. A cavalry charge! think of that! He defied
our Russian commanders-acted without orders—led a charge
on his own responsibility—headed it himself—was the first
man to sweep through their guns. Cant you see it, Raina:

our gallant splendid Bulgrians with their swords and eyes
flashing, thundering down like an avalanche and scattering
the wretched Serbs and their dandified Austrian officers like
chaff. And you! you kept Sergius waiting a year before you
would be betrothed to him. Oh, if you have a drop of Dul-
garian blood in your veins, you will worship him when he comes
back.

RAINA What will he care for nw poor little worship after the
acclamations of a whole army of heroes? But no matter: I

am so happy! so proud! (She rises and walks about excitedly).
It proves that all our ideas were real after all.

76
CATHERINE (indignantly) Our ideas real! What do you mean?

RAINA Our ideas of what Sergius would do. Our patriotism.
Our heroic ideals. I sometimes used to doubt whether they
were anything but dreams. Oh, what faithless little crea-
tures girls are! When I buckled on Sergius‘s sword he looked
so noble: it was treason to think of disillusion or humili-
ation or failure. And yet—and yet-( She sits down again
suddenly) Promise me youll never tell him.

CATHERINE Dont ask me for promises until I how what I'm
promising.

RAINA Well, it came into In head Just as he was holding me
in his arms and looking into m eyes, that perhaps we only
had our heroic ideas because we are so fond of reading Byron
and Pushkin, and because we were so delighted with the opera
that season at Bucharest. Real life is so seldom like that!
indeed never, as far as I new it then. (Remorsefully) Only
think, mother: I doubted him: I wondered whether all his
heroic qualities and his soldiership might not prove mere
imagimtion when he went ‘into a real battle.I had an uneasy
fear that he might cut a poor figure there beside all those
clever officers from the Tsar's court.

CATHERINE A poor figure! Shame on you!‘ The Serbs have
Austrian officers who are Just as clever as the Russians;
but we have beaten than in every battle for all that.

RAINA (laughing and. snuggling against her mother) Yes: I
was only a prosaic little coward. Oh, to think that it was
all true! that Sergius is Just as splendid and noble as he
looks! that the world is really a glorious world for women
who can see its glory and men who can act its romnce! that
happiness! what unspeakable fulfilment!

They are interrupted by the entry of Lenka, a handsome
proud girl in a pretty Bulgarian peasant's dress with double
apron, so defiant that her servility to Raina is almost in-
solent. She is afraid of Catherine, but even with her goes
as far as she dares.

LOUKA If you please, madam, all the windows are to be closed
and the shutters made fast. They say there may be shooting
in the streets. (Raina and Catherine rise together, alarmed).
The Serbs are being chased right back through the pass; and
they say they may run into the town. Our cavalry will be
after then; and our people will be reaw for them, you maybe
sure, now theyre running away. (She goes out on the balcoxw,
and pulls the outside shutters to; then steps back into the
room e

‘9‘,” 4‘ 5‘ H L. 3 '1 PT}:

 

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77

CATHERINE (businesslike, housekeeping instincts aroused) I
must see that everything is made safe downstairs.

RAINA I wish our people were not so cruel. What glory is
there in killing wretched fugitives?

CATHERINE Cruel! Do you suppose they would hesitate to
kill you-«or worse?

RAINA‘ (to Louka) Leave the shutters so that I can Just
close them if I hear any noise.

CATHERINE (authoritatively, turning on her way to the door)
Oh no, dear: you must keep them fastened. You would be sure
to drop off to sleep and leave them open. Make them fast,
Louka.

LCUKA Yes, madam. (She fastens them).

RAINA Dont be anxious about me. The moment I hear a shot,
I shall blow out the candles and roll nwself up in bed with
my ears well covered.

CATHERINE Quite the wisest thing you can do, my love. Good
night.

RAINA Goodnigit. (Her emotion comes back for a moment).
Wish me Joy (They kiss). This is the happiest night of nw
life—if only there are no fugitives.

CATHERINE Go to bed, dear; and dont think of thm. (She
goes out).

LOUHA (secretly to Raina) If you would like the shutters
open, Just give them a push like this (she pushes them: they
open: she pulls them to again). One of them ought to be '
bolted at the bottom; but the bolt's gone.

RAINA (with dignity, reproving her ) flanks, Lenka; but
we must do what we are told. (Louka makes a grimace).
Goodnight.

LOUKA (carelessly) Goodnight. (She goes out, swaggering).

Raina, left alone, takes off hengflmflj
on the ottoman. Then meflesiummmmm
adores the _mrtrait there with feelings that are beyond all
expression. She does not kiss it or press it to her breast,
or shew it any mark of bodily affection; but she takes is in
her hands and elevates it, like a priestess.

 

 

 

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78

RAINA (looking up at the picture) Oh, I shall never be un-
worthy of you any more, my soul's hero: never, never, never.
(She replaces it _reverently. Then she selects a ngvel __f_rom
the little pile of books. She turns over the leaves dreamily;
finds her page; turns the book inside out at it; and, with a
happy sigh, gets into bed and prepares to read herself to
sleep. But before abandoning herself to fiction, she raises
her eyes once more, thinking of the blessed reality, and
murmurs) My here! In hero!

 

A distant shot breaks the quiet of the night. She
starts,_ listening, ahdjwe more shets, _much nearer, follgg,
startling her so that she scrambles out: ef ”bed and hastily
blows out the candle on the chest 9f drawers. Then, putting
her fingers in her ears, ghe runs to the dressing table,
blows out the light there, and hurries back to bed in the
dark, nothing being visible but the glimxner of the light“ in
the pierced ball before the image, and the starlight seen
through the slits at the top of the shutters. The firing
breaks out again there is alstamlipéfusillade,qflteclnse
91.1.1911. Whilst it is still echoing, the shutters disappear,
pulled open from without; and for an instant the rectangle
of snowy starlight flashes out with the figure of a man sil-
houetted in black upon it. The shutters close immediately;
and the room is dark again. But the silence is now broken
by the sound of panting. Then there is a scratch; and “the
flame of a match is_ seen in the middle of” the room.

RAINA (crouching on the bed) he's there? (Thafllétchr i;
outuinstrantly). Who's there? The is that?

A MAN'S Voice (in the darkness, subduedly, but threateningly)
Sh-u-sh! Dont call out; or youll be shot. Be good; and no
harm will happen to you. (She is heard leaving her bed, and
making for the door). Take care: it's no use trying to run

away.
RAINA But she-—

TEE VOIG (warning) Remember: if you raise your voice nw
revolver will go off. (Comandingly). Strike a light and
let me see you. Do you hear. (Another moment of silence and
darkness as she “getreats to the chest of ,dgawegggmui'he‘nfighe
light; a candle; and the mystery is at an end. He is a man
of about 35, in a deplorable plight, bespattered with mud and
blood and snow, his belt and the strap of his revolver case
keeping together the torn ruins of the blue tunic of a Serbian
artillery officer. All that the candlelight and his unwashed
unkempt condition made it possible to discern is that he is

 

uh..-

 

 

 

 

79

of middling stature and undistinguished appearance, with
strong neck and shoulders, roundish obstinate looking head
cqvered with short crisp bronze curls, clear quick eyes and
good brows and mouth, hopelessly prosaic nose like that of

a strong minded baby, trim soldierlike carriage and energetic
manner, and with all his wits about him in spite of his des-
perate predicament: even with a sense of the humor of it,
without, however, the least intention of trifling with it or
throwing away a chance. Reckoning up what he can guess
about Raina: her age, her social position, her character,
and the extent to which she is frightened, he continues, more
politely but still most determinedly) Excuse my distrubing
you; but you recognize my uniform? Serb! If i'm caught I
shall be killed. (Menacingly) Do you understand that?

RAINA Yes.

THE MAN Well, I don't intend to get killed if I can help it.
(Still more forsadably) Do you understand that? (He looks
the door quickly but quietly).

RAINA (disdainfully) I suppose not. (She draws herself up
superbly, and looks him straight in the face, adding, with
cutting emphasis) Some soldiers, I know, are afraid to die.

THE MAN (with grim goodhnmor) All of them, dear lady, all
of them, believe me, It is our duty to live as long as we
can. Now, if you raise an alarm-

RAINA (cutting him short) You will shoot me. How do you
know that I am afraid to die?

THE MAN (cunningly) Ah; but suppose I dont shoot you, what
will happen then? A lot of your cavalry will burst into
this pretty room of yours and slaughter me here like a pig;
for I'll fight like a demon: they shant get me into the
street to amuse themselves with: I know what they are. Are
you prepared to receive that sort of company in your present
undress? (Raina, suddenly conscious of her nightgown, in-
stinctively shrinks and gathers it more closely about her
neck. He watches her and adds pitilessly) Hardly present-
able, eh? (She turns to the ottoman. He raises his pistol
instantly, and cries) Stop! (She stops). Where are you
going?

RAINA (with dignified patience) Only to get my cloak.

m m (Passingjwiftlyrto...thasottomanflsndlsnatchingjhs
91,993) A good idea! I'll keep the cloak; and you'll take

 

80

cars that nobody comes in and sees you without it. This is
a better weapon than the revolver: eh? (1.1.9-_th139‘.'§._£h9._.21:§_"
talidpvnfihaihewg tiara-gen) .

RAINA (revolted) It is not the weapon of a gentleman!

THE MAN It's good enough for a man with only you to stand
between him and death. (As they look at one another for a
moment, Raina hardly able to believe that even a Serbian
officer can be so cynically and selfishly unchivalrous, they
are startled by a sharp fusillade in the street. The chill
of imminent death hushes the man's voice as he adds) Do
you hear? If you are going to bring those blackguards in on
me you shall receive them as you are.

Glamor and Manage-.... ..Thamsssrsin. theatre“
better at the house door..dhout1nes-0999mfih9,dsqt!wi926nushs
door! Wake up, will you! “A nan servant's voice calls, tg
Elia_Milxiggajithiauflhis is Major Petkoff'shouss:
5’9‘1 cant come .39....her63xfbutiamrenewal-,o.£.-.ths_clmmLa
torrent. oftlgwspn- the .-door.-.-end. . with. 13,1 alanine a .-shaia
(10" '1th a clenk. renewed)! a .mshm a£._haavy.-toot.§tsns._am
a din of triumphant yells,,dominated_,at_last ,bymthevyoice
of Catherine, indignantly addressing lanofficer with lfihat
does thismeani- sir?i__Do you. know 111.637.43.191; .arei--- Thenoise
subgi des suddenly.

 

 

 

LOUKA (outside..kDOCkinaatlthshedrggalhgl My ladv!
my lady! get up quick and open the door. If you dont they
will break it down.

The fugitive throws up his head with the gesture of a
man who sees that it is all over with him, and drops the
manner he has been assuming to intimidate Raina.

THE MAN (sincerely and kindly) No use, dear: I'm done for.
(Elinging the cloak to her) Quick! wrap yourself up: they're
coming.

RAINA Oh, thank you. (She wraps herself up with intense
relief). ' ‘

THE MAN (between his teeth) Dont mention it.
RAINA (anxiously) What will you do?
THE MAN (grimly) The first man in will find out. Keep out

of the way; and dont look. It wont last long; but it will
not be nice. (Hewdralvs his gabge and faces the door, waiting).

 

 

.4» ‘ ‘_ __--... .m»...——.—

81
RAINA (impulsively) I'll help you. I'll save you.
THE MAN you cant.

RAINA I can. I'll hide you. (She drags him towards the
window). Here! behind the curtains.

THE MAN (yielding to her) Theres Just half a chance, if
yeti keep your head.

RAINA (drawing the curtain before him) S-sh! (She makes
for the ottoman).

THE MAN (putting out his head) Bomber-

RAINA (running back to him) Yes?

THE MAN --nine soldiers out of ten are born fools.
BAINA Oh! (She draws the curtain angrily before him).

THE MAN (looking out at the other side) If they find me, I
promise yen a fight: a devil of a fight. .

She stamps at him. He disappears hastily. _She takes
off her cloak and throws it across the “foot of the bed.

Then, with o“ sleepyiddi‘s‘turbed air, “she opens the door:
Louka enters excitedly.

 

LOUKA One of those beasts of Serbs has been seen climbing
up the waterpipe to your balcony. Our men want to search
for him; and they are so wild and drunk and furious. (She
makes for the other side of the room to get as far from the
door as possible). My lady says you are to dress at once
and to-(Sh9-. sees wt1.19.._;r.ea_vs>1.yer. ..111._ns:9a.,,§halq§tcuaa. and
stops, petrified).

RAINA (as if annoyed at being disturbed) They shall not
search here. Why have they been let in?

CATHERINE (coming in hastily) Raina, darling, are you safe?
Have you seen anyone or heard anything?

RAINA I heard the shooting. Surely the soldiers will not
dare come in here?

CATHERINE I have found a Russian officer, thank Heaven: he
knows Sergius. (Speaking through the door to someone out—
side) Sir: will you come in now. My daughter will receive
you.

u”"-‘"

 

82

upbungflguesian officer, in Bulgarian uniform, enters,
sword in hand.

 

OFFICER (with soft feline politeness and stiff military
carriage) Good evening, gracious lady. I am sorry to in-
trude; but there is a Serb hiding on the balcony. Will you
and the gracious lady your mother please to withdraw whilst
we search?

MINA (petulantly) Nonsense, sir: you can see that there

is no one on the balcony. (She throws the shutters wide

open and stands with her back to the curtain where the man

is hidden, pointing to the moonlit balcony. chouplflemqughgjgg
araf iredri$1112.“.unde.rl§hs_zi.n§9!;. and. a "hull“ 8118” 9.1.‘8 $136..
glass .opposijewgai‘na, who winks and gasps, but stands her
ground; whilst Catherine screams, and the officer, with a

cry of Take care! rushes to the balcony).

THE OFFICER (on the balcony, shouting savagely down to the
street) Cease firing there, you fools: do you hear? Cease
firing, damn you! (He glares down for a moment; then turns
to Raina, trying to resume his polite nanner). Could anyone ,
have got in without your knowledge? Were you asleep?

MINA No: I have not been to bed.

THE OFFICER (impatiently, coming back into the room) Your
neighbors have their heads so full of runaway Serbs that they
see them everywhere. (Politely) Gracious lady: a thousand
pardons. Goodnight. (Military bow, which Raina returns
coldly. Another to Catherine, who follows him out).

Raina closes the shutters. She turns and sees Louka,
who has been watching the scene curiously.

MINA Dont leave my mother, Louka, until the soldiers go
‘mys

Lenka glances at Raina, at the ottomn, at the curtain;
then purses her lips secretively, laughs insolently, and goes
onto Bai_aa...hish.1.yw9fien.ded-by-.this _demopstrat.19a.-£9llsvs
1391.39,._shasdgssaaaadlmstawiifishind her nth a slam. locking
it violently. The man immediately steps out from behind the
curtain, sheathing his sabre. Then, dismissing the danger
from his mind in a businesslike way, he comes affably to
Raina.

 

THE MAN A narrow shave; but a miss is as good as a mile.
Dear young lady: your servant to the death. I wish for your

33

sake I had Joined the Bulgarian army instead of the other one.
I am not a native Serb.

MINA (haughtily) No: you are one of the Austrians who set
the Serbs on to rob us of our national liberty, and who of-
ficer their army for them. We hate them!

THE MAN Austrian! Not I. Dont hate me, dear young lady.
I am a Swiss , fighting merely as a professional soldier.

I Joined the Serbs because they came first on the road from
Switzerland. Be generous: youve beaten us hollow.

RAINA Have I not been generous?

THE MAN Noble! Heroic! But I'm not saved yet. 'Ihis partic-
ular rush will soon pass through; but the pursuit will go on
all night by fits and starts. I must take m chance to get
off in a quiet interval. (Pleasantly) You dont mind nw wait-
ing Just a mimite or two, do you?

MINA (putting on her most genteel society manner) Oh, not
at all. Wont you sit down?

THE MAN Thanks (He sits on the foot of the bed).

Raina walks with studied elegance to the ottoman and sits
down. Unfortunately sh,_e__sits on the pistol, and Jumps up
with a shriek. The man, all nerves, shies like a frightened
horse to the other side of the room.

THE MAN (irritably) Dont frigaten me like that. What is
it?

MINA Your revolver! It was staring that officer in the
face all the time. What an escape!

THE MAN (vexed at being unnecessarily terrified) 0h, is
that all?

MINA (staring at him rather superciliously as she conceives
a poorer and poorer opinion of him, and feels proportionately
more and more at her ease) I am sorry I frightened you.
($129,381.16?..nelhe..-Distalaaémhands it to him). Pray take it
to protect yourself against me.

 

THE MAN (grinning wearily at the sarcasm as he takes the
pistol) No use, dear young lady: there's nothing in it.
It's not loaded. (He makes a grimace at it, and drops it

.9525th .intorhi smitemlvenssmse) .

81+
MINA Load it by all means.

TEE MAN Ive no ammunition. What use are cartridges in bat-
tle? I always carry chocolate instead; and I finished the
last cake of that hours ago.

MINA (outraged in her most cherished ideals of manhood)
Chocolate! Do you stuff your pockets with sweeten-like a
schoolboyga-even in the field?

THE MAN (grinning) Yes: isnt it contemptible? (Hungrily)
I wish I had some now.

MINA. Allow me. (She sails away scornfully to the chest
of drawers, and IQN35..,F1§11M§11_§..-‘D01.Qf _confeptionery in he;
hand). I am sorry I have eaten them all except these. (She
mars him the box).

 

THE MAN (ravenously) Yours an angel! (He gobbles the con-
tents). Creams! Delicious! (He looks anxiously to see
whether there are any more. There are none: he can only
scrape the box with his fingers and suck than. When that
nourishment is exhausted he accepts the inevitable with
pathetic good humor, and says, with grateful emotion) Bless
you, dear lady! You can always tell an old soldier by the
inside of his holsters and cartridge::boxes. The young ones
carry pistols and cartridges: the old ones, grub. Thank you.
(He hands back the box. She snatches it contemptuously from

-..-m- W A----

him andflthrows it away. ”he shies" again, as if she had meant
6o strike him). Ugh! Dont do things so suddenly, gracious
lady. It's mean to revenge yourself because I frightened you

Just now.

MINA (loftily) Frighten me! Do you now, sir, that thongs
I am only a womn, I think I am at heart as brave as you.

THE MAN I should think so. You havnt been under fire for
three days as I lave. I can stand two days without showing
it much; but no man can stand three days: I'm as nervous as
a mouse. (He sits down on the ottomn, and takes his head
in his hands). Would you like to see me cry?

MINA (alarmed) No.
THE MAN If you would, all you have to do is to scold me

Just as if I were a little boy and you my nurse. If I were
in camp now, theyd play all sorts of tricks on me.

35

MINA (a little moved) I'm sorry. I wont scold you.
(Touched by the sympathy in her tone, he raises his head and
looks gratefully at her: she immediately draws back and says
stiffly) You must excuse me: our soldiers are not like that.
(She moves away from the ottoman).

TEE MAN Oh yes they are. There are only two sorts of sold-
iers: old ones and young ones. I've served fourteen years:
half of your fellows never smelt powder before. Why, how
is it that youve Just beaten us? Sheer ignorance of the art
of war, nothing else. (Indignantly) I never saw anything
so unprofessional.

RAINA (ironically) Oh! was it unprofesésional to beat you?

THE MAN Well, come! is it professional to throw a regiment
of cavalry on a battery of machine guns, with the dead cer-
tainty that if the guns go off not a horse or man will ever
get within fifty yards of the fire? I couldnt believe nw
eyes when I saw it.

MINA (eagerly turning to him, as all her enthusiasm and
her dreams of glory rush back on her) Did you see the great
cavalry charge? Oh, tell me about it. Describe it to me.

THE MAN You never saw a cavalry charge, did you?
MINA How could I?

THE MAN Ah, perhaps not. No: of course not! Well, it's

a funny sight. It's like slinging a handful of peas against
a window pane: first one comes; then two or three close be-
hind him; and then all the rest in a lump.

MINA (her eyes dilating as she raises her clasped hands
eostatically) Yes, first One! the bravest of the brave!

THE MAN (prosaically) Hm! you should see the poor devil
pulling at his horse. -

MINA Why should he pull at his horse?

THE MAN (impatient of so stupid a question) It's running
away with him, of course: do you suppose the fellow wants to
get there before the others and be killed? Then they all
come. You can tell the young ones by their wildness and their
slashing. The old ones come bunched up under the number one
guard: they know that theyre mere proJectiles, and that it's
no use trying to fight. The woulds are mostly broken lmees,
from the horses cannoning together.

\I‘\/ I! l‘ I“.

4“.

'\
\. A
' I

\,.4 ._ t

 

 

86

MINA Ugh! But I dont believe the first man is a coward I
know he is a hero!

THE MAN (goodhumoredly) Thats what youd have said if youd
seen the first man in the charge today.

MINA (breathless, forgiving him everything) Ah, I knew it!
Tell me. Tell me about him.

THE MAN He did it like an operatic tenor. A regular hand-
some fellow, with flashing eyes and lovely moustache, shout-
ing his war-cry and charging like Don Quixote at the wind-
mills. We did laugh.

MINA You dared to laugh!

THE MAN Yes; but when the sergeant ran up as white as a
sheet, and told us theyd sent us the wrong ammunition, and
that we couldnt fire a round for the next ten minutes, we
laughed at the other side of our mouths. I never felt so
sick in my life; though Ive been in one or two very ti@t
places. And I hadnt even a revolver cartridge: only choco-
late. We's no bayonets: nothing. Of course, they Just cut
us to bits. And there was Don Quixote flourishing like a drum
major, thinking he'd done the cleverest thing ever known,
whereas he ought to be courtmartialled for it. Of all the
fools ever let loose on a field of battle, that mu must be
the very maddest. He and his regiment simply committed
suicide; only the pistol missed fire: thats all.

MINA (deeply wounded, but steadfastly loyal to her ideals)
Indeed! Would you know him again if you saw him?

THE MAN Shall I ever forget him!

She again goes to the chest of drawers. He watches her
with a vague hepe that she may have something more for him

:0 eat. Shotske.Ubsumrtrajtifrsnitslstand and brings it
0 him.

MINA That is a photograph of the gentleman—the patriot
and hero—to whom I am betrothed.

THE MAN (recognizing it with a shock) I'm really very sorry.
(Looking at her) Was it fair to lead me on? (He looks at
the portrait again) Yes: thats Don Quixote: not a doubt of
it. (He stifles a laugh).

MINA (quickly) Why do you laugh?

Av...- ......- fl‘---.—"— _- __a“...—

no -r.fi~b“.‘“-l.al ‘oU-.n-ay.a-v~—-u‘. .

fll-IW- —-

 

3?

THE MAN (apologetic, but still greatly tickled) I didnt

laugh, I assure you. At least I didnt mean to. But when I
think of him charging the windmills and imagining he was do-
ing the finest thing—(He chokes with suppressed laughter).

MINA (sternly) Give me back the portrait, sir.

THE MAN (with sincere remorse) Of course. Certainly. I'm
really very sorry- (3.6 handsmherlthefiriatsas- She deliber-
ately kissed it and looks him straight in the face before
{atmiaaiajhs she. 3,L.9_f.,drawsrs.tqlrherlace it. He follows
her, apologizing). Perhaps 18m quite wrong, you know: no
doubt I am. Most likely he had got wind of the cartridge

business somehow, and knew it was a safe Job.

MINA That is to say, he was a pretender and a coward! You
did not dare say that before.

THE MAN (with a comic gesture of despair) It's no use, dear
lady: I cant make you see it from the professional point of
view- (.19. he. startle. awriasskheckuto -tha 91t959an..-a-soupls
aimdégtani ,.shatswthrsatenlressnsd..trouhls) .

MINA (sternly, as she sees him listening to the shots) So
much the better for you!

mm (turning) How?

MINA You are ny enemy; and you are at my mercy. What would
I do if I were a professional soldier?

THE MAN Ah, true, dear young lady: yours always rtgit. I
know how good youve been to me: to m last hour I shall re-
member those three chocolate creams. It was unsoldierly;
but it was angelic.

MINA (coldly) Thank you. And now I will do a soldierly
thing. You cannot stay here after what you have Just said
about m future husband; but I will go out on the balcony
and see whether it is safe for you to climb down into the
street. (She turns to the window).

m NAN (changing countenance) Down that waterpipe! Stop!
Wait! I cant! I darent! The very thought of it makes me
giddy. I came up it fast enough with death behind me. But
to face it now in cold blood—l (He sinks on the ottoman).
It's no use: I give up: I'm beaten. Give the alarm. (He
drops his head on his hands in the deepest deJection).

‘ l
2‘3." if I". or \:

.(HJ

 

 

88

RAINA (disarmed by pity) Come: dont be disheartened. (She
stoops over him almost maternally: he shakes his head). Oh,
you are a very poor soldier: a chocolate cream soldier! Come,
cheer up! it takes less courage to climb down than to face
Capture: remember that.

THE MAN (dreamilx lulled by her voice) No: capture only
means death; and death is sleep: oh, sleep, sleep, sleep, un-
disturbed sleep! Climbing down the pipe means doing some-
thingu-exerting myself-.thinking! Death ten times over first.

RAINA (softly and wonderingly, catching the rhythm of his
weariness) Are you as sleepy as that?

THE MAN Ive not had two hours undisturbed sleep since I
Joined. I havnt closed my eyes for forty-eight hours.

RAINA (at her wit's end) But what am I to do with you?

THE MAN (staggering up, roused by her deperation) Of course.
I must do something. (He shakes himself; pills himself to-
gether; and speaks with rallied vigor and courage). You see,
sleep or no sleep, hunger or no hunger, tired or not tired,
you can always do a thing when you know it must be done.

Well, that pipe must be got down: (he hits himself on the
chest) do you hear that, you chocolate cream soldier? (He
turns to the window).

RAINA (anxiously) But if you fall?

THE MAN I shall sleep as if the stones were a feather bed.
Goo dbye- (39..malleanldlliingbiliAQQLLEELQLS..-33.4.9133
onitheijhuttenwhen“_t_herg.~ifls_fia_utergiblemburst of firing_i_n
the__street beneath).

 

 

RAINA (rushing to him) Stop! (She seizes him recklessly,
and pulls him quite round). Theyll 1:111 you.

THE MAN (coolly, but attentively) Never mind: this sort of
thing is all in nw day“ work. I'm bound to take nor chance.
(Decisively) Now do what I tell you. Put out the candle;
so that they shant see the light when I open the shutters.
And keep away from the window, whatever you do. If they see
me theyre sure to have a shot at me.

RAINA (clinging to him) Theyre sure to see you: it's bright
moonlight. I'll save you. Oh, how can you be so indifferent!
You want me to save you, dont you?

E59

THE MAN I really dont want to be troublesome. (She shakes
him in her impatience). I am not indifferent, dear young
lady, I assure you. But how is it to be done?

BAINA Come away from the window. (She takes him firefly back
to the middle of the room. The moment she releases him he
turns mechanically towards the window again. She seizes him
and turns him back, exclaiming) Please! (He becomes motion-
less, like a hypnotized rabbit, his fatigue gaining fast on
him. She releases him, and addresses him patronizingly).

Now listen. You must trust to our hospitality. You do not
yet know in whose house you are. I am a Petkoff.

THE MAN A pet what?

RAINA (rather indignantly) I mean that I belong to the
family of the Petkoffs, the richest and best known in our
country.

THE MAN Oh yes, of course. I beg your pardon. The Petkoffs,
to be sure. How stupid of me!

RAINA You know you never heard of them until this moment.
How can you stoop to pretend!

THE MAN Forgive me: I‘m too tired to think; and the change
of subject was too much for me. Dont scold me.

RAINA I forgot. It might make you cry. (He nods, ‘quite
seriously. She pouts and then resumes her patronizing tone).
I must tell you that my father holds the highest command of
6.1V Bulgarian in our arm. He is (proudly) a Major.

THE MAN (pretending to be deeply impressed) A Major! Bless
me! Think of that!

RAINA You shewed great ignorance in thinking that it was
necessary to climb up to the balcony because ours is the only
private house that has two rows of windoes. There is a flight
of stairs inside to get up and down by.

THE MAN Stairs! How grand! You live in great luxury indeed,
dear young lady.

RAINA Do you know what a library is?
m NAN A library? A roomful of books?

RAINA Yes. We have one, the only one in Bulgaria.

90
THE MAN Actually a real library! I should like to see that.

RAINA (affectedly) I tell you these things to shew you that
you are not in the house of ignorant country folk who would
kill you the moment they saw your Serbian uniform, but among
civilized people. We go to Bucharest every year for the
opera season; and I have spent a whole month in Vienna.

THE MAN I saw that, dear young lady. I saw at once that
you knew the world.

RAINA Have you ever seen the opera of Ernani?

THE MAN Is that the one with the devil in it in red velvet,
and a soldiers' chorus?

RAINA (contemptuously) No!

THE MAN (stifling a heavy sigh of weariness) Then I dont
know its

RAINA I thought you might have remembered the great scene
where Ernani, flying from his foes Just as you are tonight,
takes refuge in the castle of his bitterest anew, an old
Castilian noble. The noble refuses to give him up. His
guest is sacred to him.

THE MAN (quickly, waking up a little) Have your people
got that notion?

RAINA (with dignity) My mother and I can understand that
notion, as you call it. And if instead of threatening me
with your pistol as you did you had simply thrown yourself
as a fugitive on our hospitality, you would have been as
safe as in your father's house.

THE MAN Quite sure?

BAINA (turning her back on him in disgust) Oh, it is useless
to try to make you understand.

THE MAN Dont be angry: you see how awkward it would be for
me if there was any mistake. My father is a very hospitable
man: he keeps six hotels; but I couldnt trust him as far as
that. What about your father?

RAINA He is away at Slivnitza fighting for his country. I
answer for your safety. There is my hand in pledge of it.
Will that reassure you? (She offers him her hand).

90

THE MAN (looking dubiously at his own hand) Better not
touch my hand, dear young lady. I must have a wash first.

RAINA (touched) That is very nice of you. I see that you
are a gentleman.

THEMAN (puzzled) Eh?

HAINA You must not think I am surprised. Bulgarians of
really good standing--people in our position—wash their
hands nearly every day. So you see I can appreciate your
delicacy. You may take my hand. (She offers it again).

THE MAN (kissing it with his hands behind his back) Thanks,
gracious young lady: I feel safe at last. And now would you
mind breaking the news to your mother? I had better not stay
here secretly longer than is necessary.

RAINA If you will be so good as to keep perfectly still
whilst I am away.

THE MAN Certainly. (He sits down on the ottoman).

Raina goes to the bed and wraps herself in the fur cloak.
His eyes close. She goes to the door. Turning for a last
look at him, she sees that he is dropping off to sleep.

BAINA (at the door) You are not going asleep, are you? (He
murmurs inarticulately: she runs to him and shakes him). Do
you hear? Wake up: you are falling asleep.

THE MAN Eh? Falling aslee—-? Oh no: not the least in the
world: I was only thinking. It's all right: I'm wide awake.

RAINA (severely) Will you please stand up while I am away.
(He rises reluctantly). All the time, mind.

THE MAN (standing unsteadily) Certainly. Certainly: you
may depend on me.

Raina looks doubtfully at him. He smiles weakly. She
goes reluctantly, turning again at the door, and almost catch-
ing him in the act of yawning. She goes out.

THE MAN (drowsily) Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, else—(The
words trail off into a murmur. He wakes again with a shock
on the point of falling). Where am I? Thats what I want to
know: where am I? Must keep awake. Nothing keeps me awake
except danger: remember that: (intently) danger, danger,

91

danger, dam—(trailing off again: another shock) Wheres
danger? Mus' find it. (He starts off vaguely round the
room in search of it). What am I looking for? Sleep-
danger--dont know. (He stumbles against the bed). Ah yes:
now I know. All right now. I'm to go to bed, but not to
sleep. Be sure not to sleep, because of danger. Not to lie
down either, only sit down. (He sits on the bed. A blissful
expression comes into his fact). Ah! (With a happy sigh he
sinks back at full length; lifts his boots into the bed with
a final effort; and falls fast asleep instantly).

Catherine comes in, followed by Raina.
BAINA (looking at the ottoman) He's gone! I left him here.
CATHERINE Here! Then he must have climbed down from the-
RAINA (seeing him) 0h! (She points).
CATHERINE (scandalized) Well! (She strides to the bed,
Rains following until she is opposite her on the other side).
He's fast asleethe Brute!
RAINA (anxiously) Sh!

CATHERINE (shaking him) Sir! (Shaking him again, harder)
SirA! (Vehemently, shaking very hard) Sir!!!

HAINA (catching her arm) Dont, mama; the poor darling is
worn out. Let him sleep.

CATHERINE (letting him go, and turning amazed to Raina) The
poor darling! Raina!!! (She looks sternly at her daughter).

The man sleeps profoundly.

ACT I

"He's fast asleep. The brute."

Figure 9.

92

 

ACT II

The sixth of March, 1886. In the garden of MaJor Petkoff's
house. It is a fine spring morning: the garden looks fresh
and pretty. Beyond the paling the tops of a couple of minar-
ets can be seen, showing that there is a valley there, with
the little town in it. A few miles further the Balkan moun-
tains rise and shut in the landscape. Looking towards them
from within the garden, the side of the house is seen on the
left, with a garden door reached by a little flight of steps.
0n the right the stable yard, with its gateway, envroaches on
the garden. There are fruit bushes along the_paling and
house, covered with washing BPrPQQEEt to dry. A path runs
by the house, and rises by two steps at the corner, where it
turns out of sight. In the middle, a_ small __table with two
bent wood chairs at it is laid ”for breakfast with mm:—
fengllskegg, but the cups have been used and
the broad broken. There“; aarnedsnmdsnwmtjhe
wall on the right.

 

 

Li --1 E N f.) Louka, smoking a cigaret, is standing between the table and

I :21 V. d 3’ ,1” ,0 the house, turning her back with angry disdain on a man ser-

fif, III‘SZ h f vant who is lecturing her. He is a middle-aged man of cool

' temperament and low but clear and keen intelligence, with

the complacency of the servant who values himself on his rank
in servitude, and the imperturbability of the accurate calcu-
lator who has no illusions, He wears a white Bulgarian cos-
tume: Jacket with embroidered border, sash, wide knickerbockers,
and decorated gaiters, His head is shaved up to the crown,
giving him a high Japanese forehead. His name is Nicola.

NICOLA Be warned in time, Louka: mend your manners. I know
the mistress. She is so grand that she never dreams that any
servant could dare be disrespectful to her; but if she once
suspects that you are defying her, out you go.

LOUKA I do defy her. I will defy her. What do I care for
her?

NICOLA If you quarrel with the family, I never can marry you.
It's the same as if you quarrelled with me!

LOU'KA You take her part against me, do you?

moon (sedately) I shall always be dependent on the good
will of the family. When I leave their service and start a
shop in Sofia, their custom will be half m capital: their
bad word would ruin me.

 

1‘. ~-- a...-._
r

95

LOUKA You have no spirit. I should like to catch them say-
ing a word against me!

NICOLA (pityingly) I should have expected more sense from
you, Louka. But yours young: yours young!

LOUKA Yes; and you like me the better for it, dont you? But
I know some family secrets they wouldnt care to have told,
young as I am. Let them quarrel with me if they dare!

NICOLA (with compassionate superiority) Do you know what
they would do if they heard you talk like that?

LOUKA What could they do?

NICOLA Discharge you for untruthfulness. Who would believe
any stories you told after that? Who would give you another
situation? Who in this house would dare be seen speaking to
you ever again? How long would your father be left on his
little farm? (She impatiently throws away the end of her
cigaret, and stamps on it). Child: you dont know the power
such high people have over the like of you and me when we

try to rise out of our poverty against them. (He goes close
to her and lowers his voice). Look at me, ten years in their
service. Do you think I know no secrets? I know things about
the mistress that she wouldnt have the master know for a
thousand levas. I know things about him that she wouldnt let
him hear the last of for six months if I blabbed them When
I know things about Raina that would break off her match with
Sergius if...

LOUKA (turning on him quickly) How do you know? I never
told you!

NICOLA (opening his eyes cunningly) So thats your little
secret, is it? I thought it might be something like that.
Well, you take my advice and be respectful; and make the mis-
tress feel that no- matter what you know or dont know, she
can depend on you to hold your tongue and serve the family
faithfully. Thats what they like; and thats how youll make
most out of them.

LOU'KA (with searching scorn) You have the soul of a servant,
Nicola.

NICOLA (complacently) Yes: thats the secret of success in
service.

A .lpudkaaskinaaiihle whip handle on erooden .do.o_r_,,.1s

heardlifromithe. _Btable yard-

96
MALE VOICE OUTSIDE Hello! Hollo there! Nicola!
LOUHA Master! back from the war!

NICOLA (quickly) My word for it, Louka, the war's over.
Off with you and get some fresh coffee. (He runs out into
the stable yard).

LOUKA (seasheirnlleqtsnthe.coffeehrot and cure on the tray,
gndmcarries it into the hous) Youll never put the soul of a
servant into me.

 

MaJor Petkoff comes from the stable yard, followed by
Nicola. He is a cheerful, excitable, insignificant, unpolieh-
ed man of about 50, naturally unambitious except as to his
income and his importance in local society, but Just now
greatly pleased with the military rank which the war has
thrust on him as a man of consequence in his town. The fever
of plucky patriotism which the Serbian attack roused in all
the Bulgarians has pulled him through the war; but he is ob-
viously glad to be home again.

PETKOFF (P91913195115°_..‘?1_16__--.*2a?21_°_._!i§§._§i.§..,!h.12) Breakfast out
here, 611??

NICOLA Yes, sir. The mistress and Miss Raina have Just gone
in.

meorr (sitting down and taking a roll) Go in and say Ive
come; and get me some fresh coffee.

,NICOLA It's coming, sir. (He goes to the house door. Louisa,
diagram _poffeeh sfieagypnam ,e.1bran.dy_.i>9it_leeisaher
traykmg‘ets him). Have you told the mistress?

LOUKA Yes: she's coming.

Nicola goes into the house. Lou‘ka“bri_ngs___t_h_e____coff_e_e___to
attainme-

PETKOFF Well: the Serbs havnt run away with you, have they?
LOUHA No, sir.

PETKOFF Thats right. Have you brought me some cognac?
LOUKA (puttingmmeihottleionjhaiehle) Here. 811'.

PETKOFF Thats right. (He pours some into his coffee).

97

Catherine, who, having at this early hour made only a
very perfunctory toilet, wears a Bulgarian apron over a once
brilliant but now'half worn-out dressing gown, and a colored
handkerchief tied over her thick black.hair, comes from.the
house with Turkish slippers on.her bare feet, looking aston-
ishingly handsome and stately under all the circumstances.
Louka goes into the house.

CATHERINE My dear Paul: what a surprise for us! (She stoops
over the back of his chair to kiss him). Have they brought
you fresh coffee? .

PETKOFE Yes: Louka's been looking after me. The war's over.
The treaty was signed three days ago at Bucharest; and.the
decree for our army to demobilize was issued.yesterday.

CATHERINE (springing erect, with flashing eyes) Paul: have
you let the Austrians force you to make peace?

PETKOFF (submissively) My dear: they didnt consult me.
What could I do? (She sits down and turns away from.him)
But of course we saw to it that the treaty was an honorable

one. It declares peace-
CATHERINE (outraged) Peace!

PETKOFF (appeasing her) --but not friendly relations: re-
member that. They wanted to put that in; but I insisted on
its being struck out. What more could I do?

CATHERINE You could have annexed Serbia and made Prince Alem-
ander Emperor of the Balkans. Thats what I would have done.

PETKOFF I dont doubt in in the least, my dear. But I

should have had to subdue the whole Austrian Empire first;
and that would have kept me too long away from you. I missed
you greatly. '

CATHERINE (relenting) Ah! (She stretches her hand affec-
tionately across the table to squeeze his).

PETKOFF? And how have you been, my'dear?
CATHERINE Oh, my usual sore throats: thats all.

PETHOFE (with conviction) That comes from washing your neck
every day. Ive often told you so. '

CATHERINE NOnsense, Paul!

\ i
1"“! (H f":

'!l

:3

 

---m...-.-—m-.—-— -.J

.-,. ...- ...-_r at

98

PETKOFF (over his coffee and cigaret) I dont believe in go.
ing too far with these modern customs. All this washing cant
be good for the health: it's not natural. There was an Eng-
lishman at Philippopolis who used to wet himself all over
with cold water every morning when he got up. Disgusting!‘
It all comes from the English: their climate makes them so
dirty that they have to be perpetually washing themselves.
Look at my father! he never had a bath in his life; and he liv-
ed to be ninety-eight, the healthiest man in Bulgaria. I
dont mind a good wash once a week to keep up my position;

but once a day is carrying the thing to a ridiculous extreme.

CATHERINE You are a barbarian at heart still, Paul. I hope
you behaved yourself before all those Russian officers.

PETKOFF I did aw best. I took care to let them know that
we have a library.

CATHERINE Ah; but you didnt tell them that we have an elec-
tric bell in it? I have had one put up.

PETKOFF Whats an electric bell?

CATHERINE You touch a button; something tinkles in the kitchen;
and then Nicola comes up.

PETKOFF Why not about for him?

CATHERINE Civilized people never shout for their servants.
Ive learnt that while you were away.

PETKOFF Well, I‘ll tell you something Ive learnt toe; Civi-
lized people dont hang out their washing to dry where visitors
can see it; so youd better have all that (indicating the
clothes on the bushes) put somewhere else.

CATHERINE Oh, thats absurd, Paul: I dont believe really re-
fined people notice such things.

SERGIUS (mshieaehshaamblaseiee) Gate. Nicola!
PETKOFF Theres Sergius. (Shouting) Hollo, Nicola!
CATHERINE Oh, dont shout, Paul: it really isnt nice.
PETKOFE Bosh! (He shouts louder than before) Nicola!

NICOLA (appearing at the house door) Yes, sir.

99

PEEKOFF Are you deaf? Dont you hear Major Saranoff Knock-
ing? Bring him round this way. (He pronounces the name
with the stress on the second syllable: Sarahnoff).

NICOLA Yes, Major. (He goes into the stable yard).

PETKOFF You must talk to him, 11w dear, until Raina takes him
off our hands. He bores my life out about our not promoting
him. Over my head, if you please.

CATHERINE He certainly ought to be promoted when he marries
Rains. Besides, the country should insist on having at least

one native general.

PETKOEF Yes; so that he could throw away whole brigades in-
stead of regiments. It's no use, my dear: he hasnt the slight—
est chance of promotion until we're quite sure that the

peace will be a lasting one.

NICOLA (at the gate, announcing) Major Sergius Saranoffl
(He goes into the house and returnsmpresentlymwith a th_i_1_'_d
chair, which ”heuplacesnatwthefitdable. He then withdraws).

Major Sergius Saranoff, the original of the portrait in
Raina's room, is a tall romantically handsome man, with the
physical hardihood, the high spirit, and the susceptible im-
agination of an untamed mountaineer chieftain. But his re-
markable personal distinction is of a characteristically
civilized type. The ridges of his eyebrows, curving with an
interrogative twist round the projections at the outer corners;
his Jealously observant eye; his nose, thin, keen, and appre-
hensive in spite of the pugnacious high bridge and large
nostril; his assertive chin would not be out of place in a
Parisian salon, showing that the clever imaginative barbarian
has an acute critical faculty which has been thrown into in-
tense activity by the arrival of western civilisation in the
Balkans. The result is precisely what the advent of nine-
teenth century thought first produced in England: to wit,
Byronism. By his brooding on the perpetual failure, not only
of others, but of himself, to live up to his ideals; by his
consequent cynical scorn for humnity; by his Jejune credulity
as to the absolute validity of his concepts and the unworth-
iness of the world in disregarding them; by his wincings and
mockeries under the sting of the petty disillusions which even
hour spent among men brings to his sensitive observation,“ he
has acquired the half tragic half ironic air, the“mysteripus
moodiness, the suggestion of a strange and terrible history
that has left nothing but undying remorse, by which Childe
Harold fascinated the grandmothers of his English contempor—
aries. It is clear that here or nowhere is Raina's ideal hero.

\ _

100

ACT II

"My dear Sergius!"

Figure 10.

 

 

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102

Catherine is hardly less enthusiastic about him then.her
daughter, and much less reserved in showing her enthusiasm.
As he enters from the stable gate, she rises effusivbly to
greet him. Petkoff is distinctly less disposed to make a
full about him.

PETKOFF Here already, Sergius! Glad to see you.

CATHERINE My dear Sergius! (She holds out both her hands).

sane-ms (kissing them with scrupulous gallantry) My dear
mother, if I may call you so.

PETKOFF (drily) Mother-inplaw, Sergius: mother-in-law! Sit
down; and have some coffee.

SERGIUS Thank you: none for me. (He gets away from the
table with a certain distaste for Petkoff's enjoyment of it,
and posts himself with conscious dignity against the rail of
the steps leading to the house).

CATHERINE You look.superb. The campaign.has improved you,
Sergius. Everybody here is mad about you. We were all wild
with enthusiasm about that magnificent cavalry charge.

smsms (with grave irony) Madam: it was the cradle and the
grave of my military reputation.

CATHERINE How so?

SERGIUS I won the battle the wrong way when our worthy Rus-
sian generals were losing it the right way. In short, I up-
set their plans, and wounded their self-esteem. Two Cossack
colonels had their regiments routed on the most correct prin-
ciples of scientific warfare. Two major-generals got killed
strictly according to military etiquette. The two colonels
are now major-generals; and I am still a simple major.

CATHERINE You shall not remain so, Sergius. The women are
on your side; and they will see that Justice is done you.

SERGIUS It is too late. I have only waited for the peace
to send in my resignation.

PETKOFF (droppingnhishgup in his amazement) Your resigna-
tion!

CATHERINE Oh, you must withdraw it!

103

SERGIUS (with resolute measured emphasis, folding his arms)
I never withdraw.

PETKOEF (vexed) Now who could have supposed you were going
to do such a thing?

SERGIUS (with fire) Everyone that knew me. But enough of
myself and my affairs. How is Raina; and where is Raina?

RAINA (suddenly coming round the corner of the house and
standing at the top of the steps in the path) Raina is here.

She makes a charming picture as they turn to lookwat her.
She wears an underdress of pale green silk, draped with an
overdress of thin ecru canvas embroidered with gold. She is
crowned with a dainty eastern cap of gold tinsel. Sergius
goes impulsively to meet her. Posing regally, she presents
her hand: he drops chivalrously on one knee and kisses it.

PETKOFF (aside to Catherine, beaming with parental pride)
Pretty, isnt it? She always appears at the right moment.

CATHERINE (impatiently) Yes; she listens for it. It is an
abominable habit.

Sergius leads Raina forward with splendid gallantry.
When they arrive at the table, she turns to him with a bend
of the head: he bows; and thus they separate, he coming to
his place and she going behind her father's chair.

RAINA (steeping and kissing her father) Dear father! Wel-
come home!

EETKOFF (patting her cheek) My little pet girl. (He kisses
her. She goes to the chair left by Nicola for Sergius, and
sits down).

CATHERINE And so youre no longer a soldier, Sergius.

SERGIUS I am no longer a soldier. Soldiering, my dear madam,
is the coward's art.of attacking mercilessly when you are
strong, and keeping out of harmis way when you.are weak. That
is the whole secret of successful fighting. Get your enemy
at a disadvantage; and never, on any account, fight him on

equal terms.

PETKOFF They wouldnt let us make a fair standpup fight of
it. However, I suppose soldiering has to be a trade like
any other trade. -.

10h

SERGIUS Precisely. But I have no ambition to shine as a
tradesman; so I have taken the advice of that bag-man of a
captain that settled the exchange of prisoners with us ’at
Pirot, and given it up.

PETKOFF What! that Swiss fellow? Sergius: I’ve often
thought of that exchange since. He over—reached us about
those horses.

SRGIUS Of course he over-reached us. His father was a hotel
and livery stable keeper; and he owed his first step to his
knowledge of horse-dealing. (With mock enthusiasm) Ah, he
was a soldier: every inch a soldier! If only I had bought
the horses for my regiment instead of foolishly leading it
into danger, I should have been a field-marshal now!

CATHERINE ,A SWiss? What was he doing in the Serbian army?

PETKOFF A volunteer, of course: keen on picking up his pro-
fession. (Chuckling) We shouldnt have been able to begin
fighting if these foreigners hadnt shewn us how to do it: we
knew nothing about it; and neither did the Serbs. Egad,
there'd have been no war without them!

RAINA Are there many Swiss officers in the Serbian Army?

PETKOFF No. All Austrians, just as our officers were all
Russians. This was the only Swiss I came across. I'll never
trust a Swiss again. He humbugged us into giving him fifty
ablebodied men for two hundred worn out chargers. They were-
nt even eatable!

SERGIUS We were two children in the hands of that consumnate
soldier, Major: simply two innocent little children.

RAINA What was he like?
CATHERINE Oh, Raina, what a silly question!

SERGIUS He was like a commercial traveller in uniform.
Bourgiois to his boots!

PETKOFF (grinning) Sergius: tell Catherine that queer story
his friend told us about how he escaped after Slivnitza. You
remember. About his being hid by two women.

SERGIUS (with bitter irony) Oh yes: quite a romance! He
was serving in the very battery I so unprofessionelly charged.
Being a thorough soldier, he ran away like the rest of them,
with our cavalry at his heels. To escape their sabres he
climbed a waterpipe and made his way into the bedroom of a

105

young Bulgarian lady. The young lady was enchanted by his
persu3sive commercial traveller's manners. She very modestly
entertained.him for an hour or so, and then called in her
mother lest her conduct should appear unmaidenly. The old
lady was equally fascinated; and the fugitive was sent on
his way in the morning, disguised in an old coat belonging

to the master of the house, who was away at the war.

mm (rising with marked stateliness) Your life in the
camp has made you coarse, Sergius. I did not think you would
have repeated such a story before me. (She turns away coldly).

CATHERINE (also rising) She is right, Sergius. If such
women exist, we should be spared the knowledge of them.

PETKOEF Pooh! NOnsense! what does it matter?

SERGIUS (ashamed) No, Petkoff: I was wrong. (To Raina,

with earnest humility) I beg your pardon. I have behaved
abominably. Forgive me, Raina. (She bows reservedly). And
you too, madam. (Catherine bows graciously and sits down.

He proceeds solemnly, again addressing Raina) The glimpses

I have had of the seamy side of life during the last few months
have made me cynical; but I should not have brought my cyni-
cism.here: least of all into your presence, Raina. I--(Here,
turning to the others, he is evidently going to begin a long
speech when the Major interrupts him).

PETKOFF Stuff and.nonsense, Sergius! Thats quite enough fuss
about nothing: a soldier's daughter should be able to stand
up without flinching to a little strong conversation. (He
rises). Come: it's time for us to get to business. we have
to make up our minds how those three regiments are to get
back to Philippopolis: theres no forage for them on the Sofia
route. (He goes towards the house). Come along. (Sergius

is about to follow him when Catherine rises and intervenes).

CATHERINE Oh, Paul, cant you spare Sergius for a few moments?
Raina.has hardly seen him yet. Perhaps I can help you to
settle about the regiments.

SERGIUS (protesting) My dear madam, impossible: you.-
cmmanm (stopping him playfully) You stay here, my dear
Sergius: theres no hurry. I have a word or two to say to
Paul. (Sergius instantly bows and steps back). Now, dear
(taking Petkoff's arm): come and see the electric bell.

PETKOFF Oh, very well, very well.

106

They go into the house together affectionately. Sergius,
left alone with Raina, looks anxiously at her, fearing that
she is still offended. She smiles, and stretches out her
msmm.

SERGIUS (hastening to her) Am I forgiven?

RAINA. (placing her hands on his shoulders as she looks up
at him with admiration and worship) My hero! My king!

SERGIUS My Queen! (He kisses her on the forehead).

RAINA How I have envied you, Sergius! You.have been out in
the world, on the field of battle, able to prove yourself
there worthy of any woman in the world; whilst I have had

to sit at home inactive-dreaming-useless--doing nothing
that could give me the right to call myself worthy of any man.

SERGIUS Dearest: all my deeds have been yours. You.inspired
me. I have gone through the war like a knight in a tourna-
ment with his lady looking down at him!

RAINA And you.have never been absent from my thoughts for
a moment. (Very solemnly) Sergius: I think we two have

found the higher love. When I think of you, I feel that I
could never do a base deed, or think an ignoble thought.

SERGIUS My lady and.my saint! (He clasps her reverently).
RAINA (returning his embrace) My lord and.myh-

SERGIUS Sh-sh! Let me be the worshipper, dear. You little
know how unworthy even the best man is of a girl's pure pas-
sion!

RAINA I trust you. I love you. You will never disappoint
me, Sergius. (Louka is heard singing within the house. They
quickly release each other). I cant pretend.to talk indif-
ferently before her: my heart is too full. (L0U3§l90m88,£29@
the house wdth her tray. She goes to the table, and begins
50 clear it, with.her back.turned to them). I will get my
hat: and then we can go out until lunch time. Wouldnt you
like that?

 

SERGIUS Be quick. If you are away five minutes, it will
seem five hours. (Raina runs to the top of the steps, and
turns there to exchange looks with him and.wave him a kiss
with both hands. He looks after'her with emotion for a mo—
ment; then turns slowly away, his face radiant with the

lo7

loftiest exaltation. The movement shifts his field of vision,
into the corner of which there now comes the tail of Louka's
double apron. His attention is arrested at once. He takes

a stealthy look at her, and begins to twirl his moustache
mischievously, with his left hand akimbo on his hip. Iinally,
striking the ground with his heels in something of a cavalry
swagger, he strolls over to the other side of the table, op-
posite her, and says) Louka: do you know what the higher

love is?

LOU’KA (astonished) No, sir.

SERGIUS Very fatiguing thing to keep up for any length of
time, Louka. One feels the need of some relief after it.

LOU‘KA (innocently) Perhaps you would like some coffee, sir?
(She stretches her hand across the table for the doffee pot).

SERGIUS (taking her hand) Thank you, Louka.

LOUKA (pretending to pull) 0h, sir, you know I didnt mean
that. I'm surprised at you!

SERGIUS (coming clear of the table and drawing her with him)
I am surprised at myself, Loulm. What would Sergius, the
hero of Slivnitza, say if he saw me now? What would Sergius,
the apostle of the higher love, say if he saw me now? What
would the half dozen Sergiuses who keep popping in and out
of this handsome figure of mine say if they caught us here?
(Letting go her hand and slipping his arm dexterously round
her waist) Do you consider nv figure handsome, Louka?

LOUKA Let me go, sir. I shall be disgraced. (She struggles:
he holds her inexorably). Oh, will you let go?

SERGIUS (llking straight into her eyes) No.

LOUKA Then stand back where we cant be seen. Have you no
cormnon sense?

SERGIUS Ah! thats reasonable. (He takes her into the stable
yard gateway, where they are hidden from the house).

LOUEA (plaintively) I may have been seen from the windows:
Miss Raina is sure to be spying about after you.

SERGIUS (stung: letting her go) Take care, Louka. I may be
worthless enough to betray the higher love; but do not you
lnsult.ito

108

LOUKA (demurely) Not for the world, sir, I'm sure. May I
go on with my work, please, now?

SERGIUS (again putting his arm round her) You are a pro-
voking little witch, Louka. If you were in love with me,
would you spy out of windows on me?

LOUKA Well, you see, sir, since you say you are half a
dozen different gentlemen all at once, I should have a great
deal to look after.

SERGIUS (charmed) Witty as well as pretty. (He tries to
kiss her).

LOUKA (avoiding him) No: I dont want your kisses. Gentle-
folk are all alike: you making love to me behind Miss Raina's
back; and she doing the same behind yours.

SERGIUS (recoiling a step) Louka!
LOUKA It shews how little you really care.

SERGIUS (dropping his familiarity, and speaking with freez-
ing politeness) If on conversation is to continue, Louisa,
you will please remember that a gentleman does not discuss
the conduct of the lady he is engaged to with her maid.

LOUKA It's so hard to know what a gentleman considers right.
I thought from your trying to kiss me that you had given up
being so particular.

SERGIUS (turning from her and striking his forehead as he
comes back into the garden from the gateway) Devil! devil!

LOUKA Ha! ha! I expect one of the six of you is very like
me, sir; though I am only Miss Raina's maid. (She goes back
to her work at the table, taking no further notice of him).

SERGIUS (speaking to himself) Which of the six is the real
man? thats the question that torments me. One of them is a
hero, another a buffoon, another a humbug, another perhaps a
bit of a blackguard. (He pauses, and looks furtively at
Louka as he adds, with deep bitterness) And one, at least is
a coward: Jealous, like all cowards. (He goes to the table).
Louka.

LOUKA Yes?

SERGIUS Who is my rival?

 

109

ACT II

"Who is my rival?"

Figure 110

 

111
mm You shall never get that out of me, for love or money.

SERGIUS Why?

LOUKA Never mind why. Besides, you would tell that I told
you; and I should lose my place.

SERGIUS (holding out his right hand in affirmation) No! on
the honor of ap-(He checks himself; and his hand drops, nerve-
less, as he concludes sardonically)--cf a man capable of be-
having as I have been behaving for the last five minutes.

Who is he?

LOUKA I dont know. I never saw him. I only heard his voice
through the door of her room.

SERGIUS Damnation! How dare you?

LOUKA (retreating) Oh, I mean no harm: youve no right to
take up my words like that. The mistress lmows all about it.
And I tell you that if that gentleman ever comes here again
Miss Raina will marry him, whether he likes it or not. I
know the difference between the ear of manner you and she put
on before one another and the real manner.

Sergius shivers as if she had stabbed him. Then, setting
his face like iron, he strides grimly to her, and grips her
above the elbows with both hands.

SERGIUS Now listen you to me.
LOUKA (wincing) Not so tight: youre hurting me.

SERGIUS That doesnt matter. You have stained my honor by
making me a party to your eavesdropping. And you have betray-
ed your mistress.

LOUKA (writhing) Please-

SERGIUS That shews that you are an abominable little clod of
common dlay, with the soul of a servant. (He lets her go as
if she were an unclean thing, and turns away, dusting his hands
of her, to the bench by the wall, where he sits down with a.-
verted head, meditating gloomily).

LOUKA (whimpering angrily with her hands up her sleeves,
feeling her bruised arms) You know how to hurt with your
tongue as well as with your hands. But I dont care, now Ive
found out that whatevery clay I'm made of, yours made of the

112

same. As for her, she's a liar; and.her fine airs are a
cheat; and I'm worth six of her. (She shakes the pain off
hardily; tosses her head; and assertswworkeig- Putths._.th,i_nss
ssfisfissz)

He looks doubtfully at her. .§he“§ipishes packing the
tray. and laps. the 019th oventhe ...e_ds9$.--99-ss., $953919};
Qutwtogether. As she stoops to lift,it, he rises.

 

SERGIUS Louka! (She stops and looks defiantly at him). A
gentleman has no right to hurt a woman under any circumstances.
(With profound humility, uncovering his head) I beg your
Pardons

LOUKA That sort of apology may satisfy a lady, Of what use
is it to a servant?

SERGIUS (rudely crossed in.his chivalry, throws it off with
a bitter laugh, and says slightingly) Oh! you wish to be
paid for the hurt! (He puts on his shake, and_takes some

£9999Liroah1..s.rocket) .

LOUKA_ (her eyes filling with tears in spite of herself) No:
I want my hurt made well.

SERGIUS (sobered by her tone) How?

She rolls up her left sleeve; clasps her arm with the
thumb and fingers of her right hand; and locks down at the
bruise. Then she raises her head and looks straight at him.
Finally, with a superb gesture, she presents her arm to be
kissed. Amazed, he looks at her; at the arm; at her again;
hesitates; and then, with shuddering intensity, exclaims
Never! and gets away as far as possible from her.

Her arm drops. Without a word, and with unaffected dig-
, nity, she takes her tray, and is approaching the house when
Raina returns, wearing a hat and Jacket in the height of the
Vienna fashion of the previous year, 1885.- Louka makes way
proudly for her, and then goes into the house.

MINA I'm ready. Whats the matter? (Gaily) Have you been
flirting with Lenka?

SERGIUS (hastily) No, no. How can you think such a thing?

RAINA (ashamed of herself) Forgive me, dear: it was only a
Jest. I am so happy today.

113

He goes quickly to her, and kisses her hand remorsefully.
Catherine comes out and calls to them from the top of the
steps.

CATHERINE (coming down to them) I am sorry to disturb you,
children; but Paul is distracted over those three regiments.
He doesnt know how to send them to Philippapolis; and he ob—
jects to every suggestion of mine. You must go and help him
Sergius. He is in the library.

MINA (disappointed) But we are Just going out for a walk.

SERGIUS I shall not be long. Wait for me just five minutes.
(he runs up the steps to the door).

MINA (following him to the foot of the steps and looking
up at him with timid coquetry) I shall go round and wait in
full view of the library windows. Be sure you draw father's
attention to me. If you are a moment longer than five min-
utes, I shall go in and fetch you, regiments or no regiments.

SERGIUS (laughing) Very well. (He goes in).

Raina watches him until he is out of her sight. Then,
with a perceptible relaxation of manner, she begins to pace
up and down the garden in a brown study.

CATHERINE Imgine their meeting that Swiss and hearing the
whole story! The very first thing your father asked for was
the old coat we sent him off in. A nice mess you have got
us into!

RAINA (gazing thoughtfully at the gravel as she walks) The
little beast!

CATHERINE Little beast! What little beast?

RAINA To go and tell! Oh, if I had him here, I'd cram him
with chocolate creams til he couldnt ever speak again!

CATHERINE Dont talk such stuff. Tell me the truth, Raina.
How long was he in your room before you came to me?

MINA (whisking round and reconnaencing her march in the op—
posite direction) Oh, I forget.

CATIERINE You cannot forget! Did he really climb up after
the soldiers were gone; or was he there when that officer
searched the room?

11h
RAINA No. Yes: I think he must have been there then.

CATHERINE You think! Oh, Raina! Raina! Will anything ever
make you straightforward? If Sergius finds out, it will be
all over between you.

RAINA (with cool impertinence) Oh, I Imow Sergius is your
pet. I sometimes wish you could marry him instead of me.
You would Just suit him. You would pet him, and spoil him,
and mother him to perfection.

CATHERINE (opening her eyes very widely indeed) Well, upon
my word!

RAINA (capriciously: half to herself) I always feel a long-
ing to do or say something dreadful to him--to shock his pro-
priety--to scandali so the five senses out of him. (To Cath-
erine, perversely) I dont care whether he finds out about
the chocolate cream soldier or not. I half hope he may. (She
again turns and strolls flippantly away up the path to the
corner of the house).

CATHERINE And what should I be able to say to your father,
pray?

RAINA (over her shoulder, from the top of the two steps)
Oh, poor father! As if he could help himself! (She turns
the corner and passes out of sight).

CATHERINE (looking after her, her fingers itching) Oh, if
you were only ten years younger! (Louka comes from the house
with a s‘alver, which she carries hanging down by her side).
Well?

 

LOUKA Them a gentleman Just called, madam. A Serbian offi-
cer.

CATHERINE (flaming) A Serb! And how dare he—-( checking her-
self bitterly) Oh, I forgot. We are at peace now. I sup-
pose we shall have them calling every day to pay their compli-
ments. Well: if he is an officer why dont you tell your
master? He is in the library with Major Saranoff. Why do
you come to me?

LOUKA But he asks for you, madam. And I dont think he knows
who you are: he said the lady of the house. He gave me this
little ticket for you. (She takes a card out of her bosom-
P3331? on the _s_alver; and offers it to Catherine).

115

CATHERINE (reading) "Captain Bluntschli"? Thats a German
name.

LOUKA Swiss, madam, I think.

CATHERINE (with a bound that makes Louka Jump back) Swiss!
What is he like?

LOUKA (timidly) He has a bigncarpet bag, madam.

CATHERINE Oh Heavens! he's come to return the coat. Send
him away: say we're not at home: ask him to leave his address
and I'll write to him. Oh stop: that will never do. Wait!
(She throws herself into a chair to think it out. Louisa

waits). The master and MaJor Saranoff are busy in the library,
arnt they?

LOU’KA Yes, madam.

CATHERINE (decisively) Bring the gentleman out here at once.
(Peremptorily) And be very polite to him. Dont delay. Here
(impatiently snatching the salyer from her): leave that here;
and go straight back to him.

LOUKA‘ Yes, madam (going).

CATHEINE Louisa!

LOUKA (stopping) Yes, madam.

CATHERINE Is the library door shut?

LOUKA I think so, madam.

CATHERINE If not, shut it as you pass through.

LOUKA Yes, madam (going).

CATHERINE Stop (Louisa stops). He will have to go that way
(indicating the gate of the stable yard). Tell Nicola to
bring his bag here afterdhim. Dont forget.

LOUKA (surprised) His bag?

CATHERINE Yes: here: as soon as possible. (Vehemently) Be
quick! (Louisa runs into the house. Catherine snatches her
apron off and throws it behind a bush. She then takes up the

salver and uses it as a mirror, with the result that the hand-
kerchief ties round her head follows the apron. A touch to

116

her hair and a shake to her dressing gown make her presentable).
Oh, how? how? how can a man be such a fool! Such a moment

to select! (Lenka appears at the door of the house, announc-
ing Captain Bluntschli. She stands aside at the top of the
steps to let him pass before she goes in again. He is the
man of the midnight adventure in Raina's room, clean, well
brushed, smartly uniformed, and out of trouble, but still un-
mistakably the same man. The moment Louka's back is turned,
Catherine swoops on him with impetuous, urgent, coaxing ap-
peal). Captain Bluntschli: I am very glad to see you; but
you must leave this house at once. (He raises his eyebrows).
My husband has Just returned with my future sonpin-law; and
they know nothing. If they did, the consequences would be
gerrible. You are a foreigner: you do not feel our national
animosities as we do. We still hate the Serbs: the effect

of the peace on my husband has been to make him feel like a
lion baulked of his prey. If he discovers our secret, he will
never forgive 'me; and my daughter's life will hardly be safe.
Iill you, like the chivalrous gentlemn and soldier you are,
leave at once before ht finds you here?

BLUNTSCHLI (disappointed, but philosophical) At once,
gracious lady. I only came to thank you and return the coat
you lent me. If you will allow me to take it out of my bag
and leave it with your servant as I pass out, I need detain
you no further. (He turns to go into the house).

CATHERINE (catching him by the sleeve) Oh, you must not
think of going back that way. (Coaxing him across to the
stable gates) This is the shortest way out. Many thanks.
So glad to have been of service to you. Coda-bye. ’

BLUNTSCHLI But my bag?

CATHERINE It shall be sent on. You will leave me your ad-
dress.

BLU'NTSCHLI True. Allow me. (Huakesmqutmhisflcardcaflsg, and
stops to write his address, keeping Catherine in an agony of
impatience. As he hands her the card, Petlsoff, hatless,
rushes from the house in a fluster of hospitality, followed

by SGTglflB).

PETKOFF (as he hurries down the steps) My dear Captain
Bluntschli-

CATHERINE Oh Heavens! (She sinks on the seat against the
Wall).

117

PETKOFF (too preoccupied to notice her as he shakes Blunt-
schli's hand heartily) Those stupid people of mine thought I
was out here, instead of in the-haw!-library (he cannot
mention the library without betraying how proud he is of it).
I saw you through the window. I was wondering why you didnt
come in. Saranoff is with.me: you remember him, dont you?

SERGIUS (saluting humorously, and then offering his hand
with great charm.of manner) Welcome, our friend the enemy!

PETKOFF No longer the enemy, happily. (Rather anxiously)
I hope youve called as a friend, and not about horses or
prisoners.

CATHERINE Oh, quite as a friend, Paul. I was Just asking
Captain Bluntschli to stay to lunch: but he declares he must
go at once.

SERGIUS (sardonically) Impossible, Bluntsdhli. We want you
here badly. We have to send on three cavalry regiments to
Philippopolis; and we dont in the least know how to do it.

BLUNTSCHLI (suddenly attentive and businesslike) Philippo—
polis? The forage is the trouble, I suppose.

RETKOFF (eagerly) Yes: thats it. (To Sergius) He sees the
whole thing at once.

BLUNTSCHLI I think I can shew you.how to manage that.

SERGIUS Invaluable man! Come along! (Towering over Blunt-
schli, he puts his hand on his shoulder and takes him to the
steps, Petkoff following). -

Raina comes from.the house as Bluntschli puts his foot
on the first step.

RAINA 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,
dont you see that we have a guest here? Captain Bluntschli:
one of our new Serbian friends.

Raina bows: Bluntschli bows.

118

RAINA How silly of me! (She comes down into the centre of
the group, between Bluntschli and Petkoff). I made a beau-
tiful ornament this morning for the ice pudding; and that
stupid Nicola has Just put down a pile of plates on it and
spoilt it. (To Bluntschli, winningly) I hope you didnt
think that you were the chocolate cream soldier, Captain
Bluntschli.

BLUNTSCHLI (laughing) I assure you I did. (Stealing a
shimisical glance at her) Your explanation was a relief.

PE'I'KOFF (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 library; and
then he goes downstairs and breaks Raina's chocolate soldier.
He mush-(Nicolaeppearsatihe top. of the ,stepsflith the
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?

INICOLA (taken aback) Sir?
PETKOFF What have you brougit that for?
NICOLA My lady's orders, maJor. 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 bagas
he addresses Bluntschli with the very perfection of servile
discretion) I beg your pardon, captain, I am sure. (To ‘
Catherine) My fault, madame: I hope youll overlook it. (He
bows, and is going to the steps with the bag, when Petkoff
addresses him angrily).

PETKOFF Youd 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 hand almost on his master's toes, eliciting a
roar of) Begone, you butter-fingered donkey.

119

Yes, MaJor.
CATHERINE Oh,’ never mind. Paul: dont be angry.

PETKOFF (blustering) Scoundrel! He's got out of hand while
I was away. I'll teach him. Infernal blackguard! The sack
next Saturday! I'll clear out the whole establishment—(He
is stifled by the caresses of his wife and daughter, who hang
round his neck, petting him).

CATHERINE Now now now it mustnt be angry.
RAINA (together) Wow: wow: wow; not on your first
He meant no harm. Be good to please me, dear.
Sh-sh-sh-sh!
day at home. I'll make another ice pudding.
Tch—ch-ch!

FBTKOFF (yielding) Oh well, never mind. Come, Bluntschli:
lets have no more nonsense about going away. You know very
well youre not going back to Switzerland yet. Until you do
go back youll stay withus.

RAINA Oh, do, Captain Bluntschli.

PETKOFF (to Catherine) Now, Catherine: it's of you he's
afraid. Press him: and he'll stay.

CATHERINE Of course I shall be only too deliglted if (appeal...
ingly) Captain Bluntschli really wishes to stay. He knows
my wishes.

BLUNTSCHLI (in his driest military manner) I am at madam's
orders.

SERGIUS (cordially) That settles it!

PETKOFF (heartily) or course!'

RAINA You see you must stay.

BLUNTSCHLI (smiling) Well, if I must, I must.

Gesture of despair from Catherine.

ACT III

Opening Curtain

Figure 120

120

 

ACT III

In the library after lunch. It is not much of a library.
Its literary equipment_ consists of a single fixe_d shelf
stocked with old paper covered novels, broken backed co_ffee
stained, torn.and thumbed; and.a couple of little hanging
shelves with a few gift boOks on them: the rest of the wall

spagembeing~9ccupied by trophies of war and the chase. But
it is a most comfortable sitting room. (A row of three large
windows shows a.mountain panorama, Just now seen in one of
its friendliest aspects in the mellowing afternoon light.

In the corner next the right hand window a square earthen-
ware stove, a perfect tower of glistening pottery, rises
nearly to the ceiling and guarantees plenty of warmth. The
ottoman is like that in Raina's room. and similarly_placed;
and the window seatsmare luxurious with decorated cushions.
There is one object, however hopelessly out of keeping_with
itssurroundings.w This isa a small kitchen table, much the
worse for wearLfifitted a_s awriting table with_ an old canis-
ter full of pens, and an eggcup filled with ink, fiEd_§“99:_

plorable sc up of heavily used‘pink_ blottingmpgper,

 

 

At the side of this table, which stands to the left of any-

1- ...

of Wmaps before hint writing orders. At the head of it sits
Sergius, who is supposed to be also at work, but is actually
gnawing the feather of a peh, 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 his hookah within easy reach. Rains,
reclining on the divan, is gazing in a daydream out at the
Balkan landscape, with a neglected novel in.her 199$

The door is on the same side as the stove, farther from the
window. The button of the electric bell is at the opposite
side, behind Bluntschli.

PETKOFF (locking up from.his paper to watch how they are get-
ting on at the table) Are you sure I cant help in any way,
Bluntschli?

BLUNTSCHLI (without interrupting his writing or looking up)
Quite sure, thank you. Saranoff and I will manage it.

123

SERGIUS (grimly) Yes: we'll manage it. He finds out what
to do; draws up the orders; and I sign em. Division of lap
bor! (Elsntschliipe§§e§,him agpaper). Another one? Thank
you. (He plants the paper squarely before him; sets his
chair carefully parallel to it; and signs with his cheek

on his elbow and.his protruded tongue following the move-
ments of his pen). This hand.is more accustomed to the sword
than to the pen.

PETKOFF It's very good of you, Bluntschli: it is indeed, to
let yourself be put upon in this way. Now are you quite sure
I can do nothing?

CATHERINE (in a low warning tone) You can stop interrupt-
ing, Paul.

PETKOFF (starting and looking round.at her) Eh? Ohl Quite
right. (Ea_.takss hi§,nsfispapez..up._asain.,“13111122639912: lets.
42M§E92)° Ah, you havnt been campaigning, Catherine: you
dont know how plwasant it is for us to sit her, after a good
lunch, with nothing to do but enjoy ourselves. Theres only
one thing I want to make me thoroughly comfortable.

CATHERINE What is that?

PETKOFF My old coat. I’m.not at home in this one: I feel
as if I were on parade.

CATHERINE My dear Paul, how absurd you are about that old
coat! It must be hanging in.the blue closet where you left
it.

PETKOFF My dear Catherine, I tell you Ive looked there. Am

I to believe my own eyes or not? (Catherine rises and crosses
the room.to press the button of the electric bell). What are
you shewing off that bell for? (She looks at him majestically,
and silently resumes her chair and her needlework). My dear:
if you.think the obstinacy of your sex can make a coat out

of two old dressing gowns of Raina's, your waterproof, and

my mackintosh, youre mistaken. Thats exactly what the blue
closet contains at present.

Nicola presents himself.

CATHERINE Nicola: go to the blue closet and.hring your master's
old coat here: the braided one he wears in the house.

NICOLA Yes, madame. (He goes out).

12h

PETKOFF Catherine.
CATHERINE Yes, Paul.

PETKOFF I bet you any piece of Jewellery you like to order
from Sofia against a week's housekeeping money that the coat
isnt there.

CATHERINE Done, Paul!

PETKOFF (excited by the prospect of a gamble) Come: heres
an opportunity for some sport. Wholl bet on it? Bluntschli:
I'll give you six to one. ,

BLUHTSCHLI (imperturbably) It would be robbing you, MaJor.
Madame is sure to be right. (Without looking up, he msses
€90 ’9he:§9a§911,.9£PsP_ersigjazteips) .

SERGIUS (also excited) Bravo, Switzerlandt Major: I bet
my best charger against an Arab mare for Raina that Nicola
finds the coat in the blue closet.

PETKOFF (eagerly) Your best char-

CATHERINE (hastily interrupting him) Dont be foolish, Raul.
An Arabian mare will cost you 50,000 levas.

RAINA (suddenly coming out 'of her picturesque revery) Real—
ly, mother, if you are going to take the Jewellery, I don't
see why you should grudge me my Arab.

Nicola comes back with the coat and brings it to Pet-
koff, who can hardly believe his eyes.

CATHERINE Where was it, Nicola?

NICOLA Hanging in the blue closet, madame.
MOT]? Well, I am d--

CATERINE (stopping him) Paul!

PETKOFF I could have sworn it wasnt there. Age is beginning
to tell on me. I'm getting hallucinations. (To Nicola)

Here: help me to change. Excuse me, Bluntschli. (He begins
changing coats, Nicola acting as valet). Remember: I didn't
take that bet of yours, Sergius. Youd better give Raina

that Arab steed yourself, since youve roused her expectations.
Eh, Raina? (He looks round at her; but she is again rapt in

125

the landscape. With a little gush of parental affection and
pride, he points her out to them, and says) She's dreaming,
as usual.

SERGIUS Assuredly she shall not be the loser.

PETKOFE So much the better for her. I shant come off so

cheaply, I expect. (The change is now complete. Nicola goes
out withgthemdigcardedmcoat). Ah, now I feel at home at last.
@QES._EQEI}__snd-_takeshhisagwusEager Within grunt _9£-_rel.ief 1..

BLUNTSCHLI (t9-§srsigsiuhaadias_aisepsr) Thats the last or-
der.

PETKOEF (Jumping up) What! Finished?
BLUNTSCHLI FiniShed.

PETKOFF (inflating his chest and thumping it) Ah well, I
think weve done a thundering good day's work. Can I do any.
thing more?

BLUNTSCHLI You had better both see the fellows that are to
take these. (Sergius rises) Pack them off at once; and

shew them that Ive marked on.the orders the time they should
hand them in by. Tell them that if they stop to drink.or tell
stories—-if theyre five minutes late, theyll have the skin
taken off their backs.

SERGIUS (stiffening indignantly) I'll say so. (He strides
to the door). An if one of them is man enough to spit in.my
face for insulting him, I'll buy his discharge and give him

a pension. (He goes out).

BLUNTSCHLI (confidentially) Just see that he talks to them
properly, MaJor, will you?

PETKOFF (officiously) Quite right, Bluntschli, quite right.
I'll see to it. (He goes to the door importantly, but hesi-
tates on the threshold). By the bye, Catherine, you may as
well come too. Theyll be far more frightened of you than of
me.

CATHERINE (putting down.her embroidery) I daresay I had
better. You would only splutter at them. (She goes out,
Petkoff holding the door for her and following her).

BLUNTSCHLI What an armyt They make cannons out of cherry
trees; and the officers send for their wives to keep disci-
pline! (He begins to fold and docket the papers).

126

Raina, who has risen from the divan, marches slowly
down the room with her hands clasped behind her, and looks
mischievously at him.

RAINA You look ever so much nicer than when we last met.
(He loolm up, surprised). What have you done to yourself?

BLUNTSCHLI Washed; brushed; good night's sleep and breakh
fast. Thats all.

RAINA Did you getbback safely that morning?
BLUNTSCHLI Quite, thanks.

RAINA Were they angry with you for running away from Ser-
gius's charge?

HUNTSCHLI (grinning) No: they were glad; because theyd
all Just run away themselves.

RAINA (going to the table, and leaning over it towards him)
It must have made a lovely story for them: all that about
me and my room.

BLUNTSCEIJ Capital story. But I only told it to one of
them; a particular friend.

RAINA On whose discretion you could absolutely rely?
BLUNTSCHLI Absolutely.

RAINA Hm! He told it all to my father and Sergius the day
you exchanged the prisoners. (She turns away and strolls
carelessly across to the other side of the room).

BLUNTSCELI (deeply concerned, and half incredulous) No!
You dont mean that, do you?

RAINA (turning, with sudden earnestness) I do indeed. But
they dont know that it was in this house you took refuge.

If Sergius knew, he would challenge you and kill you in a
duel.

BLUNTSCHLI Bless me! then dont tell him.

RAINA Please be serious, Captain Bluntschli. Can you not
realize what it is to me to deceive him? I want to be quite
perfect with Sergius: no meanness, no smallness, no deceit.
My relation to him is the one really beautiful and noble part
of my life. I hope you can understand that.

 

127

BLUNTSCHLI (sceptically) You mean that you wouldnt like
him.to find out that the story about the ice pudding was
a--a--a--You.know.

RAINA (wincing) Ah, dont talk of it in that flippant way.
I lied: I know it. But I did it to save your life. He
would.have killed you. That was the second time I ever utu
tered a falsehood. (Bluntschli rises quickly andlooks
doubtfully and somewhat severely at her). Do you remember
the first time?

BLUNTSCHLI I! No. Was I present?

RAINA ‘Yes; and I told.the officer who was searching for you
that you were not present.

BLUNTSCHLI True. I should have remembered it.

RAINA (greatly encouraged) Ah, it is natural that you should
forget it first. It cost you nothing: it cost me a liel A
lie!

She sits down on the ottoman, looking straight before
her with her hands clasped around her knee. Bluntschli,
quite touched, goes to the ottoman with a particularly re—
assuring and considerate air, and sits down beside her.

BLUNTSCHLI My dear young lady, dont let this worry you. Re-
member: I'm a soldier. New what are the two things that hap-
pen to a soldier so often that he comes to think.nothing of
them? One is hearing people tell lies (Raina recoils): the
other is getting his life saved in all sorts of ways by all
sorts of people.

RAINA (rising in indignant protest) And so he becomes a
creature incapable of faith and of gratitude.

BLUNTSCHLI (making a wry fact) Do you like gratitude? I
dont. If pity is akin to love, gratitude is akin to the
other thing.

RAINA Gratitude! (Turning on him)- If you are incapable of
gratitude you.are incapable of any noble sentiment. Even
animals are grateful. Oh, I see now exactly what you think
of me! You were not surprised to hear me lie. To you it was
something I probably did every day! every hour! That is how
men think.of women. (She paces the room tragically).

128

BLUNTSCHLI (dubiously) Theres reason in everything. You
said youd told only two lies in your whole life. Dear young
lady: isnt that a rather short allowance? I'm quite a
straigit-forward man myself; but it wouldnt last me a whole
morning.

RAINA (staring haughtily at him) Do you know, sir, that
you are insulting me?

BLUNTSCHIJ I cant help it. When you strike that noble at-
titude and speak in that thrilling voice, I admire you; but
I find it impossible to believe a single word you say.

RAINA (superbly) Captain Bluntschli!
BLUNTSCELI (unmoved) Yes?

RAINA (standing over him, as if she could not believe her
senses) Do you mean what you said Just now? Do you know
what you said Just now?

BLUNTSCHLI I do.

RAINS (gasping) I! I!!! (She points to herself incredu-
lously, meaning "I, Raina Petkoff tell lies!" He meets her
gaze unflinchingly. She suddenly sits down beside him, and
adds, with a complete change of manner from the heroic to a
babyish familiarity) How did you find me out?

BLUNTSCHLI (promptly) Instinct, dear young lady. Instinct,
and experience of the world.

RAINA (wonderingly) Do you know, you are the first man I
ever met who did not take me seriously?

BLUNTSCHLI You mean, dont you, that I am the first man that
has ever taken you quite seriously?

RAINA Yes: I suppose I do mean that. (Cosily, quite at her
ease with him) How strange it is to be talked to in such a
way! You know, Ive always gone on like that.

BLUNTSCHLI You mean thou?

RAINA I eman the noble attitude and the thrilling voice.
(They laugh together).' I did it when I was a tiny child to
my nurse. She believed in it. I do it before my parents.
They believe in it. I do it before Sergius. He believes in
it.

129
BLUNTSCHLI Yes: he's a little in that line himself, isnt he?
RAINA (startled) 0h! Do you.think so?
BLUNTSCEI You know him better than I do.

RAINA I wonder-~I wonder is he? If I thought that--! (Dis-
couraged) Ah, well; what does it matter? I suppose, now
youve found me out, you despise me.

BLUNTSCHLI (warmly rising) No, my dear young lady, no, no,
no a thousand times. It's part of your youth: part of your
charm. I'm like all the rest of them: the nurse, your parents,
Sergius: I'm your infatuated admirer.

RAINA (pleased) Really?

BLUNTSCHLI (slapping his breast smartly with his hand, Ger-
man fashion) Hand aufs Herz! Really and truly.

RAINA (very happy) But what did you think of me for giving
you my portrait?

BLUNTSCHLI (astonished) Your portrait! You never gave me
your portrait.

RAINA (quickly) Do you mean to say you never got it?

BLUNTSCHLI No. (He sits down beside her, with renewed in-
terest, and says, with some complacency) When did you send
it to me?

RAINA (indignantly) I did not send it to you. (She turns
her head away, and adds, reluctantly) It was in the pocket
Of that coat. .

BLUNTSCBZLI (pursuing his lips and rounding his eyes) tho—
oh! I never found it. It must be there still.

RAINA (springing up) There still! for my father to find
the first time he puts his hand in his pocket! Oh, how could
you be so stupid?

BLUNTSCHLI (rising also) It doesnt matter: I suppose it's
only a photograph: how can he tell who it was intended for?
Tell him he put it there himself.

RAINA (bitterly) Yes: that is so clever! isnt it? (Dis-
tractedly) Oh! what shall I do?

130

BLUNTSCHLI Ah, I see. You wrote something on it. That
was rash.

RAINA (vexed almost to tears) Oh, to have done such a thing
for you, who care no more--except to laugh at me.-oh! Are
you sure nobody has touched it?

BLUNTSCHLI Well, I cant be quite sure. _You see, I couldnt
carry it about with me all the time: one cant take much
luggage on active service.

RAINA What did you do with it?

BLUFTSCHLI When I got througi to Pirot I had to put it in
safe keeping somehow. I thought of the railway cloak room;
but thats the surest place to get looted in modern warfare.
So I pawned it.

RAINA Pawned it!!!

BLUNTSCHIJ I know it doesnt sound nice: but it was much the
safest plan. I redeemed it the day before yesterday. Heaven
only knows whether the pawnbroker cleared out the pockets or
nOte

RAINA (furious: throwing the words right into his face) You
have a low shopkeeping mind. You think of things that would
never come into a gentleman's head.

BLU'NTSCHLI (phlegmatically) Thats the Swiss national char-
acter, dear lady. (He returns to the table).

RAINA Oh, I wish I had never met you. (She flounces away,
and sits at the window fuming).

Louka comes in with a heap of letters and telegrams on
_her salyer and crosses, with her bold free gait, to the
table. Her left sleeve is looped up to the shoulder with a
brooch, shewing her naked arm, with a broad gilt bracelet

covering the bruise.

mm (to Bluntschli) For you. (She’hempties the salver
with a fling on _to the ”table). The messenger is waiting.
(She is determined not to be civil to an enemy, even if
she must bring him his letters).

 

BLUNTSCEI (to Raina) Will you excuse me: the last postal
delivery that reached me was three weeks ago. These are the
subsequent accumulations. Four telegrams: a week old. (He
opens one). Oho! Bad news!

131
RAINA (rising and advancing a little remorsefully) Bad news?

BLUNTSCHLI My father's dead. (He leeks at the telegram with
his lips pureed, musing on the unexpected change in his ar-
rangements. Louka crosses herself hastily).

RAINA Oh, how very sad!

BLUITTSCIEI Yes: I shall have to start for home in an hour.
He has left a lot of big hotels behind him to be looked after.
(He takes up a“ fat letter__ in a longblue envelope). Here' s

a whacking letter from the family solicitor. (He puts out
the enclosures and glances over them) Great Heavens! Seven-
ty! Two hundred! (In a crescendo of dismay) Four hundred!
Four thousand“ Nine thousand six hundred!!! What on earth
am I to do with them all?

RAINA (timidly) Nine thousand hotels?

BLUNTSCHLI Hotels! nonsense. If you only knew! Oh, it's
too ridiculous! Excuse me: I must give my fellow orders
about starting. (He leaves the room hastily, with the docu-
ments in his hand).

LOUKA (knowing instinctively that she can annoy Raina by
disparaging Bluntschli) He has not much heart, that Swiss.
He has not a word of grief for his poor father.

RAINA (bitterly) Grief! A mn who has been doing nothing
but killing people for years! What does he care? What does
any soldier care? (She goes to the door, restraining her
tears with difficulty).

LOUKA Major Saranoff has been fighting too; and he has plenty
of heart left. (Raina, at the door, draws herself up haught-

ily and goes out). Aha! I thougit you wouldnt get much feel-
ing out of your soldier. (She is following Raina when Nicola

enters with an armful of logs for the stove).

NICOLA (grinning amorously at her) Ive been trying all the
afternnon to get a minute alone with you, my girl. (His coun-
tenance changes as he notices her arm). Why, what fashion

is that of wearing your sleeve, child?

LOUKA (proudly) My own fashion.

NICOLA Indeed! If the mistress catches you, she'll talk to
you. (He puts the logs down,' and seats himself comfortably
on the ottoman).

132

LOU’KA Is that any reason why you should take it on your-
self to talk to me?

NICOLA Come! dont be so contrary with me. Ive some good
news for you. (She sits down beside him. HejakesmqutJome
231993,"!99931- Louka, with an eager gleam in her eyes, tries

to snatch it; but he shifts it quickly to his left hand, out
of her reach). See! a twenty leva bill! Sergius gave me
that, out of pure swagger. A fool and his money are soon part-
ed. Theres ten levas more. The Swiss gave me that for back-
ing up the mistress' and Raina's lies about him. He's no
fool, he isnt. You should have heard old Catherine downstairs
as polite as you please to me, telling me not to mind the
Major being a little impatient; for they lmew what a good
servant I was-mafter making a fool and a liar of me before
them all! The twenty will go to our savings; and you shall
have the ten to spend if youll only talk to me so as to re-
mind me I'm a human being. I get tired of being a servant
occasionally.

LOUKA Yes: sell your manhood for 30 loves, and buy me for
10! (Rising scornfully) Keep your money. You were born to
be a servant. I was not. When you set up your shop you will
bnly be everybody's servant instead of somebody's servant.
(She goes moodily to the table and seats herself regally in
Sergius's chair).

NICOLA (picking up his logs, and going to the stove) Ah,
wait til you see. We shall have our evenings to ourselves;
and I shall be master in my own house, I promise you. (He
throws the logs down and kneels at the stove).

LOUKA You shall never be master in mine.

NICOLA (turning, still on his knees, and squatting down
rather forlornly on his calves, daunted by her implacable
disdain) You have a great ambition in you, Louisa. Remember;
if any luck comes to you, it was I that made a woman of you.

LOUKA You!

NICOLA (scrambling up and going to her) Yes, me. Who was
it made you give up wearing a couple of pounds of false black
hair on your head and reddening your lips and cheeks like any
other Bulgarian girl! I did. Who taught you to trim your
nails, and keep your hands clean, and be dainty about your-
self, like a fine Russian lady! Me: do you hear that? me!
(She tosses her head defiantly; and he turns away, adding more
coldly) Ive often thought that if Raina were out of the way,

133

and you just a little less of a fool and Sergius just a little
more of one, you might come to be one of my grandest customers,
instead of only being my wife and costing me money.

LOUKA I believe you would rather be my servant than my hus-
band. You would maka more out of me. Oh, I know that soul
of yours.

NICOLA (going closer to her for greater emphasis) Never you
mind my soul; but just listen to my advice. If you want to
be a lady, your present behaviour to me wont do at all, un-
less when we're alone. It‘s too sharp and impudent; and im—
pudence is a sort of familiarity: it shews affection for me.
And. dont you try being high and mighty with me, either.

Youre like all country girls: you think it's genteel to treat
a servant the way I treat a stableboy. Thats only your ig-
norance; and dont you forget it. And dont be so ready to
defy everybody. Act as if you expected to have your own way,
not as if you expected to be ordered about. The way to get
on as a lady is the same as the way to get on as a servant:
youve got to know your place: thats the secret of it. And
you may depend on me to know my place if you get promoted.
Think it over, my girl. I'll stand by you: one servant should
always stand by another.

LOUKA (rising impatiently) Oh, I must behave in my own way.
You take all the courage out of me with your coldblooded wis-
dom. Go and put those logs in the fire: thats the sort of
thing you understand.

Before Nicola can retort, Sergius comes in. He checks
himself a moment on seeing Lenka; then goes to the stove.

SERGIUS (to Nicola) I am not in the way of your work, I
hope.

NICOLA (in a smooth, elderly manner) Oh no, sir: thank you
kindly. I was only speaking to this foolish girl about her
habit of running up here to the library whenever‘. she gets
a chance, to look at the books. Thats the worst of her edu-
cation, sir: it gives her habits above her station. (To
Leuka) Make that table tidy, Louka, for the Major. (He
goes out sedately).

Louka, without looking at Sergius, pretends to arrange
the papers on the table. He crosses slowly to her, and
studies the arrangement of her sleeve reflectively.

131+

SERGIUS Let me see: is there a mark there? (He turns up
the bracelet and sees the bruise made by his grasp. She
stands motionless, not looking at him: fascinated, but on
her guard) Ffff! Does it hurt?

LOUKA Yes.
SERGIUS Shall I cure it?

LOUKA (instantly withdrawing herself proudly, but still not
looking at him) No. You cannot cure it now.

SERGIUS (masterfully) Quite sure? (He makes a movement as
if to take her in his arms).

LOUKA Dont trifle with me, please. An officer should not
trifle with a servant.

SERGIUS (indicating the bruise with a merciless stroke of
his forefinger) That was no trifle, Louka.

LOUKA (flinching; then looking at him for the first time)
Are you sorry?

SERGIUS (with measured emphasis, folding his arms) I am
never sorry.

LOUKA (wistfully) I wish I could believe a man could be
as unlike a woman as that. I wonder are you really a brave
man?

SERGIUS (unaffectedly, relaxing his attitude) Yes: I am
a brave man. My heart jumped like a woman's at the first
shot; but in the charge I found that I was brave. Yes:
that at least is real about me.

LOUK‘ Did you find in the charge that the men whose fathers
are poor like mine were any less brave than the men who are
rich like you?

SERGIUS (with bitter levity) Not a bit. They all slashed
and cursed and yelled like heroes. Psha! the courage to rage
and kill is cheap. I have an English bull terrier who has

as much of that sort of courage as the whole Bulgarian nation,
and the whole Russian nation at its back. But he lets my
groom thrash him, all the same. Thats your soldier all over!
No, Louka: your poor man can cut throats; but they are afraid
of their officers; they put up with insults and blows; they
stand by and see one another punished like children: aye,

135

and help to do it when they are ordered. And the officers!!!
Well (with a short harsh laugh) I am an officer. Oh, (fer-
vently) Give me the man who will defy to the death any
power on earth or in heaven that sets itself up against his
own will and conscience: he alone is the brave man.

LOUKA How easy it is to talk! Men never seem to me to
grow up; they all have schoolboy' s iedas. You dont know
what true courage is.

SERGIUS (ironically) Indeed! I am willing to be instructed.
(He sits on the ottoman, sprawling magnificently).

LOUKA Look at me! How Imlch am I allowed to have aw own will?
I have to get your room ready for you: to sweep and dust, to
fetch and carry. How could that degrade me if it did not de-
grade you to have it dean for you? But (with subdued passion)
if I were Empress of Russia, above everyone in the world,
then!! Ah then, though according to you I could shew no
courage at all, you should see, you should see.

SERGIUS What would you do, most nobel Empress?

LOUKA I would marry the man I loved, which no other queen
in Europe has the courage to do. If I loved you, though you
would be as far beneath me as I am beneath you, I would dare
to be the equal of my inferior. Would you dare as much if
you loved me? No: if you felt the beginnings of love for me
you would not let it grow. You would not dare: you would
marry a rich man's daughter because you would be afraid of
what other people would say of you.

SERGIUS (bounding up) You lie: it is not so, by all the
stars! If I loved you, and I were the Czar himself, I

would set you on the throne by my side. You know that I love
another woman, a woman as high above you as heaven is above
earth. And you are jealous of her.

LOUKA I have no reason to be. She will never marry you
now. The man I told you of has come back. She will marry
the Swiss.

SERGIUS (recalling) The Swiss!
LOUKA A man worth ten of you. Then you can come to me;
and I will refuse you. You are not good enough for me.

(She turns to the door).

SERGIUS (springing after her and catching her fiercely in

135

his arms) I will kill the Swiss; and afterwards I will do
as I please with you.

LOUKA (in his arms, passive and steadfast) The Swiss will
kill you, perhaps. He has beaten you in love. He may beat
you in war. '

SERGIUS (tormentedly) Do you think I believe that she—-
she! whose worst thoughts are higher than your best ones,
is capable of trifling with another man behind my back?

LOUKA Do you think she would believe the Swiss if he told
her now that I am in your arms?

SERGIUS (releasing her in despair) Damnation! Oh, damna-
tion! Mockery! mockery everywhere! everything I think is
mocked by everything I do. (He strikes himself frantically
on the breast). Coward! liar! fool! Shall I kill myself
like a man, or live and pretend to laugh at myself? (She
again turns to go). Louka.! (She stops near the door). He-
member: you belong to me.

LOUKA (turning) What does that mean? An insult?

SERGIUS (commandingly) It means that you love me, and that
I have had you here in m arms, and will perhaps have you
there again. Whether that is an insult I neither know nor
care: take it as you please. But (vehemently) I will not
he a coward and a trifler. If I choose to love you, I dare
marry you, in spite of all Bulgaria. If these hands ever
touch you again, they shall touch my affianced bride.

LOUKA We shall see whether you dare keep your word. And
take care. I will not wait long.

SERGIUS (again folding his arms and standing motionless in
the middle of the room) Yes: we shall see. And you shall
wait my pleasure.

Bluntschli, much preoccupied, with his papers still in
his hand, enters, leaving the door open for Louka to go out.
He goes across to the table, glancing at her as he passes.
Sergius, without altering his resolute attitude, watches
him steadily. Louka. goes out, leaving the door open.

SERGIUS (gravely, without moving) Captain Bluntschli.

BLUEITSCEI Eh?

.4.‘

 

137

SERGIUS You.have deceived me. You.are my rival. I brook
no rivals. At six o'clock I shall be in the drilling-ground
on the Klissoura road, alone, on horseback, with my sabre.

BLUNTSCHLI (staring, but sitting quite at his ease) Oh,
thank you: thats a cavalry man's proposal. I'm in the ar-
tillery; and I have the choice of weapons. If I go, I shall
take a machine gun. And there shall be no mistake about the
cartridges this time.

SERGIUS (flushing, but with deadly coldness) Take care,
sir. It is not our custom in Bulgaria to allow invitations
of that kind to be trifled with.

BLUNTSCHLI (warmly) Pooh! dont talk to me about Bulgaria.
You dont know what fighting is. But have it your own way.
Bring your sabre along. I'll meet you.

SERGIUS (fiercely delighted to find his opponent a man of
spirit) Well said, Switzer. Shall I lend you my best horse?

BLUNTSCHLI No: damn your'horse!! thank you all the same,

my dear fellow. (Raina comes in, and hears the next sentencé.
I shall fight you on foot. Horseback's too dangerous; I

dont want to kill you if I can help it.

RAINA (hurrying forward anxiously) I have heard what Cap-
tain Bluntschli said, Sergius. You.are going to fight. Why?
(Sergius turns away in silence, and goes to the stove, where
he stands watching her as she continues, to Bluntschli) What
about?

BLUNTSCHLI I dont know: he hasnt told me. Better not inter-
fere, dear young lady. No harm will be done: Ive often

acted as sword instructor. He wont be able to touch me;

and I'll not hurt him. It will save explanations. In the
morning I shall be off home; and youll never see me or hear
of me again. You and.he will than.make it up and live happily
ever after.

RAINA (turning away deeply hurt, almost with a sob in her
voice) I never said I wanted to see you again.

SERGIUS (striding forward) Ha! That is a confession.
RAINA (haughtily) What do you mean?
SERGIUS You love that man!

RAINA (scandalized) Sergius!

138

SERGIUS You allow him to make love to you.hehind.my back,
just as you treat me as your affianced.husband behind.his.
Bluntschli: You knew our relations; and you deceived.me.
It is for that that I call you to account, not for having
received favors I never enjoyed.

BLUNTSCHLI (jumping up indignantly) Stuff! Rubbish! I
have received no favors. Why, the young lady doesnt even
know whether I'm married or not.

RAINA (forgetting herself) Oh! (Collapsing on the otto-
man) Are you?

SERGIUS You see the young lady's concern, Captain Bluntschli.
Denial is useless. You have enjoyed the privilege of being
received in her own room, late at night-—

BLUNTSCHLI (interrupting him.pepperily) Yes, you blockb
head! She received.me with a pistol at her head. Your cav-
alry were at my heels. I'd.have blown out her brains if
she'd'uttered a cry.

SERGIUS (taken aback) Bluntschli! Raina: is this true?

RAINA (rising in wrathful majesty) Oh, how dare you, how
dare you?

BLUNTSCHLI Apologize, man: apologize. (He resumes his seat
at the table).

SERGIUS (with the old.measured emphasis, folding his arms)
I never apologize!

RAINA (passionately) This is the doing of that friend of
yours, Captain Bluntschli. It is he who is spreading this
horrible story about me. (She walks about excitedly).

BLUNTSCHLI No: he's dead. Burnt alive.

RAINA (stopping, shocked) Burnt alive!

BLUNTSCHLI Shot in the hip in a woodyard. Couldnt drag

himself out. Your fellows' shells set the timber on fire
and burnt him, with half a dozen other poor devils in the
same predicament.

RAINA How horrible!

SERGIUS And.how ridiculous! Oh, war! war! the dream of
patriots and heroes! A fraud, Bluntschli. ,A hollow sham,
like love.

139
RAINA (outraged) Like love! You say that before me!
BLUNTSCHLI Come, Saranoff: that matter is explained.

SERGIUS A hollow sham, I say. WOuld you.have come back:here
if nothing had passed between you except at the muzzle of
your pistol? Raina is mistaken about your friend who was
burnt. He was not my informant.

RAINA Who then? (Suddenly guessing the truth) Ah, Louka!
my maid! my servant! You were with her this morning all
that time after-afterb-Oh, what sort of god is this I have
been worshipping! (He meets her gaze with sardonic enjoyb
ment of her disenchantment. Angered all the more, she goes
closer to him, and says, in a lower, intenser tone) Do you
know that I looked out of the window as I went upstairs, to
have another sight of my hero; and I saw something I did
not understand then. I know now that you were making love
to her.

SERGIUS (with grim.humor) You saw that?

RAINA Only too well. (She turns away, and throws herself
on the divan under the centre window, quite overcome).

SERGIUS (cynically) Raina: our romance is shattered. Life's
a farce.

BLUNTSCHLI (to Raina, whimsically) You see: He's found
himself out now.

SERGIUS (going to him) Bluntschli: I have allowed you to
call me a blockhead. Ybu may now call me a coward as well.
I refuse to fight you. Do you know why?

BLUNTSCHLI No; but it doesnt matter. I didnt ask the reason
when you cried on; and I dont ask the reason now that you

cry off. I'm a professional soldier! I fight when I have
to, and am very glad tagget out of it when I havnt to. Youre
only an amateur: you think fighting's an amusement.

SERGIUS (sitting down at the table, nose to nose with him)
You shall hear the reason all the same, my professional. The
reason is that it takes two men-~real men--men of heart,

blood and honor--to make a genuine combat. I could no more
fight with you than I could make love to an ugly woman. Youve
no magnetism: youre not a man: youre a machine.

BLUHTSCHLI (apologetically) Quite true, quite true. I al-
ways was that sort of chap. I'm very sorry.

_Mfl_-.— _i-o

lilo
SHE GIUS Psha!

BLUHTSCHLI But now that youve found that life isnt a farce,
but something quite sensible and serious, what further ob—
stacle is there to your happiness?

RAINA (rising) You are very solicitous about my happiness
and his. Do you forget his new love-—Louka? It is not you
that he must fight now, but his rival, Nicola.

SERGIUS Rival!! (bounding half across the room).
RAINA Dont you know that theyre engaged?
SERGIUS Nicola! Are fresh abysses opening? Nicola!

RAINA (sarcastically) A shocking sacrifice, isnt it? Such
beauty! such intellect! such modesty! wasted on a middle-aged
servant man. Really, Sergius, you cannot stand by and allow
such a thing. It would be unworthy of your chivalry.

SERGIUS (losing all self-control) Viper! Viper! (He rushes
to and fro, raging).

BLUHTSCHLI Look here, Saranoff: youre getting the worst of
this. '

RAINA (getting angrier) Do you realize what he has done,
Captain Bluntschli? He has set this girl as a spy on us; and
her reward is that he makes love to her.

SERGIUS False! Monstrous!

RAINA Monstrous! (Confronting him) Do you deny that she
told you about Captain Bluntschli being in my room?

SERGIUS No; but-—

RAINA (interrupting) Do you deny that you were making love
to her when she told you?

SERGIUS No; but I tell you-

RAINA (cutting him short contemptuously) It is unnecessary

to tell us anything more. That is quite enough for us. (She
turns away from him and sweeps majestically back to the win-

dOW) e

BLUNTSCHLI (quietly, as Sergius, in an agony of mortifica~
tion,sinks on the ottoman, clutching his averted.head between

11a

his fists) I told you you were getting the worst of it,
Saranoff.

SERGIUS Tiger cat!

RAINA (running excitedly to Bluntschli) You hear this man
calling me names, Captain Bluntschli?

BLUNTSCHLI What else can he do, dear lady? He must defend
himself somehow. Come (very persuasively): dont quarrel.
What good does it do?

Raina, with a gasp, sits down on the ottoman, and after
a vain effort to look vexedly at Bluntschli, falls a victim
to her sense of humor, and actually leans back babyishly
against the writhing shoulder of Sergius:

smacms Engaged to Nicola! Ha! ha! Ah well, Bluntschli,
you are right to take this huge imposture of a world coolly.

RAINA (quaintly to Bluntschli, with an intuitive guess at
his state of mind) I daresay you think us a couple of grown-
up babies, dont you?

SERGIUS (grinning savagely) He does: he does. Swiss civili-
zation nursetending Bulgarian barbarism, ch?

BLUNTSCHLI (blushing) Not at all, I assure you. I'm only
very glad to get you two quieted. There! there! let's be
pleasant and talk it over in a friendly way. Where is this
other young lady?

RAINA Listening at the door, probably.

SERGIUS (shivering as if a bullet had struck him, and speak»
ing with quiet but deep indignation) I will prove that that,
at least, is a calumny. (He goes with dignity to the door
and opens it. .A yell of fury bursts from.him as he looks
out. He darts into the passage, and returns dragging in
Louka, whom.he flings violently against the table, exclaiming)
Judge her, Bluntschli. You, the cool impartial man: Judge
the eavesdropper.

Louka stands her ground, proud and silent.

BLUHTSCHLI (shaking his head) I mustnt judge her. I once
listened myself outside a tent when there was a mutiny brewa

ing. It's all a question of the degree of provocation. My
life was at stake.

1&2
LOUKA My love was at stake. I am not aShamed.

RAINA (contemptuously) Your love: Your curiosity, you
mean. .

LOUKA (facing her and returning her contempt with interest)
My love, stronger than anything you can feel, even for your
chocolate cream soldier.

SERGIUS (with Quick suspicion, to Louka) What does that
mean?

LOUKA (fiercely) I mean—-

SERGIUS (interrupting her slightingly) Oh, I remember: the
ice pudding. A paltry taunt, girl!

Major Petkoff enters, in his shirtsleeves.

PETKOFF Excuse my shirtsleeves, gentlemen. Raina: somebody
has been wearing that coat of mine: I'll swear it. Somebody
wdth a differently'shaped back. It's all burst open at the
sleeve. Your mother is mending it. I wish she'd.make haste:
I shall catch cold. (He looks more attentively at them).

Is anything the matter?

RAINA No. (She sits down.at the stove, with a tranquil air).

SERGIUS Oh no. (He sits down.at the end of the table, as
at first). ‘

BLUMSCHLI (who is already seated) Nothing. Nothing.

PETKOFF (sitting down on the ottoman in his old place) Thats
all right. (He notices Louka). Anything the matter, Loukafi

LOUKA NO . sir.

PETKOFP (genially) Thats all right. (He sneezes) Go and
ask your mistress for my coat, like a good girl, will you?

Nicola enters with the coat. Louka makes a pretence of
having business in.the room by taking the little table with
the hookah away to the wall near the windows.

RAINA (rising quidkly as she sees the coat on Nicole's arm)
Here it is papa. Give it to me Nicola; and do you put some
more wood on the fire. (She takes the coat, and brings it

to the Major, who stands up to put it on. Nicola attends to
the fire).

1&3

PETKOFF (to Raina, teasing her affectionately) Aha! Going
to be very good to poor old papa just for one day after his
return from the wars, eh??

RAINA (with solemn reproach) Ah, how can you say that to
me, father?

PETKOFF W61, well, only a Joke, little one. Come: give me
a kiss. (She kisses him). Now give me the coat.

RAIHA No: I am going to put it on for you. Turn your back.
(He turns his back and feels behind him with his arms for

the sleeves. She exterously takes the photograph from the
pocket and throws it on the table before Bluntschli who
covers it with a sheet of paper undem the very noee of Sergi_§,
Who locks on amazed., ifith.his suspiCions roused in the high—
est degree. She then helps Petkoff on with his coat). There,
dear! Now are you comfortable?

PETKOFF Quite, little love. Thanks (He sits down; and Raina
returns to her seat near the stove). Oh, by the bye, Ive
found something funny. Whats the meaning of this? (He puts
his hand into the picked pocket). Eh? Hallo! (He tries

the other pocket). Well, I could.have sworn--! (Much puz-
zeled} he tries the breast pocket). I wonderb-(trying the
original pocket). Where can it--? (He rises, exclaiming)
Your mother‘s taken it!

RAINA (very red) Taken what?

PETKOFF Your photograph, with the inscription: "Raina to
her Chocolate Cream Soldier: a Souvenir," Now you know
theres something more in this than meets the eye; and I'm
going to find it out. (Shouting) Nicola!

NICOLA (coming to him) Sir!

IETKOFF Did you spoil any pastry of Miss Raina's this
morning?

NICOLA. You heard Miss Raina say that I did, sir.
PETKOFF I know that, you idiot. Wes it true?

NICOLA I am sure Miss Raina is incapable of saying any-
thing that is not true, sir.

PETKOFF Are you? Then I'm not. (Turning to the others)
Come: do you think I dont see it all? (He goes to Sergius,
and slaps him on the shoulder). Sergius: youre the chocolate
cream soldier, arnt you?

inn

SERGIUS (starting up) I! A chocolate cream soldier! Cer-
tainly not.

PETKOFF Not! (He looks at them. They are all very serious
and very conscious). Do you.mean to tell me that Raina
sends things like that to other men?

SERGIUS (enigmatically) The world is not such an innocent
place as we used to think, Petkoff.

BLUIJTSCHLI (rising) It's all right, Major. I'm the choco-
late cream soldier. (Petkoff and Sergius are equally aston-
ished). The gracious young lady saved my life by giving me
chocolate creams when I was starving: shall I ever forget
their flavour! My late friend Stolz told.you the story of
Pirot. I was the fugitive.

PETKOFF YouJ (He gasps). Sergius: fo you remember how
those two women went on this morning when we mentioned it?
(Sergius smiles cynically. Petkoff confronts Raina severely).
Youre a nice young woman, arnt you?

1mm (bitterly) Major Saranoff has changed his mind. And
when I wrote that on the photograph, I did not know that
Captain Bluntschli was married.

BLUNTSCHLI (startled into vehement protest) I'm not mar-
ried.

RAINA (with deep reproach) You.aaid you were.

BLUNTSCHLI I did not. I positively did not. I never was
married in my life.

PETKOFF (exasperated) Raina: will you kindly inform me,
if I am.not asking too much, which of these gentlemen you
are engaged to?

RAINA To neither of them. This young lady (introducing
Louka, who faces them all rpoudly) is the object of Major
Saranoff's affections at present.

PETKOFF Louka! Are you mad, Sergius? Why, this girl's
engaged to Nicola.

HICOLA I beg your pardon, sir. There is a mistake. Louka
is not engaged to me.

1&5

PETKOFF Net engaged to you, you scoundrel! Why, you had
twenty-five levas from.me on the day of your betrothal; and
she had that gilt bracelet from Miss Raina.

NICOLA (with cool unction) We gave it out so, sir. But it
was only to give Louka protection. She had a soul above her
station; and I have been no more than her confidential ser-
vant. I intend, as you know, sir to set up a shop later on
in Sofia; and I look forward to her custom.and recommendation
should she marry into the nobility. (He goes out with im-
pressive discretion, leaving them all staring after him).

PETKOFF (breaking the silence) Well, I am_-hm!

SERGIUS This is either the finest heroism or the most crawl-
ing baseness. Which is it, Bluntschli?

BLUNTSCHLI Never mind whether it's heroism or baseness.
Nicola's the ablest man Ive met in Bulgaria. I'll make him
manager of a hotel if he can speak French and Genman.

LOUKA (suddenly breaking out at Sergius) I have been in»
sulted by everyone here. You set them the example. You owe
me an apology.

Sergius, like a repeating clock.of which the spring has
been touched, immediately begins to fold.his arms.

BLUNTSCHLI (before he can speak) It's no use. He never
apologizes.

LOUKA Not to you, his equal and his enemy. To me, his poor
servant, he will not refuse to apologize.

SHRGIUS (approvingly) You are right. (He bends his knee in
his grandest manner) Forgive me.

LOUKA I forgive you. (She timidly gives him her hand, which
he kisses). That touch makes me your affianced wife.

SERGIUS (sprining up) Ah! I forgot that.
1.0m (coldly) You can withdraw if youilike.

SERGIUS Withdraw! Never! You belong to me. (He puts his
arm about her).

Catherine comes in and finds Louka in Sergius' arms,
with all the rest gazing at them in bewildered astonishment.

1M6

ACT III

"Wiriat does this mean?"

Figure 130

 

1148
CATHERIHE What does this mean?
Sergius releases Louka.

EETKOFF Well, my dear, it appears that Sergius is going to
marry Louka instead of Raina. (She is about to break out
indignantly at him: he steps her by exclaiming testily)
Dont blame me: Ive nothing to do with it. (He retreats to
the stove).

CATHERINE Marry Louka! Sergius: you are bound by your
word to us!

SERGIUS (folding his arms) thhing binds me.

BLUNTSCHLI (much pleased by this piece of common sense)
Saranoff: your hand. My congratulations. These heroics of
yours have their practical side after all. (To Louka)
Gracious young lady: the best wishes of a good Republican!
(He kisses her hand, to Raina's great disgust, and returns
to his seat).

CATHERINE Louka: you have been telling stories.
LOUKA I have done Raina no harm.
cmsnm (haughtily) Paine:
Raina, equally indignant, almost snorts at the liberty,

LOUKA. I have a right to call her Raina: she calls me Louka.
I told.MaJor Saranoff she would never marry him if the Swiss
gentleman came back;

BLUN'I‘SCHLI (rising, much surprised) Hallo!

LOUKA (turning to Raina) I thought you were fonder of him
than of Sergius. You know best whether I was right.

BLUNTSCHLI What nonsense! I assure you, my dear Major, my
dear Madame, the gracious young lady simply saved my life,
nothing else, She never cared two straws for me. Why, bless
my heart and soul, look at the young lady and lock at me.
She, rich, young, beautiful, with her imagination full of
fairy princes and noble natures and cavalry charges and
goodness knows what! And I a commonplace Swiss soldier who
hardly knows what a decent life is after fifteen years of
barracks and battles: a vagabond, a man who has spoiled all
his chances in life through an incurably romantic disposition,
a man.-

1149

SERGIUS (starting as if a needle had pricked him.and interb
rupting Bluntschli in incredulous amazement) Excuse me,
Bluntschli: what did you say had spoiled your chances in
life?

BLUNTSCHLI (promptly) An incurably romantic disposition.
I ran away from.home twice when I was a boy. I went into
the army instead of into my father! s business. I climbed
the balcony of this house when a man of sense would.have
dived into the nearest cellar. I came sneaking back here
to have another look.at the young lady when any other man
of my age would have sent the coat backa-

PETKOFF My coat!

BLUNTSCHII --yes: thats the coat I mean-would.have sent

it back and gone quietly home. Do you suppose I am the sort
of fellow a young girl falls in love with? Why, look at
our ages! I'm.thirtyhfour: I dont suppose the young lady

is much over seventeen. (This estimate produces a marked
sensation, all the rest turning and staring at one another.
He proceeds innocently) All that adventure which was life
or death to me, was only a schoolgirl's game to her--choc-
olate creams and hide and seek. Heres the proof! (He takes
the photograph frgm thewtable). Now, I aSk you, would a
woman who took.the affair seriously have sent me this and
written on it "Raina, to her Chocolate Cream.Soldier: a
Souvenir"? (He exhibits the photograph triumphantly, as

if i; settled the matter beyond all possibility of refutap
tion 0

 

PETKOFF Thats what I was looking for. How the deuce did
it get there? (He comes from the stove to look at it, and
sits down on the ottoman).

BLUNTSCHLI (to Raina, complacently) I have put everything
right, I hope, gracious young lady.

RAINA (going to the table to face him) I quite agree with
your account of yourself. You are a romantic idiot. (Blunt-
schli is unspeakably taken aback). Next time, I hope you
will know the difference between a schoolgirl of seventeen
and a woman of twenty-three.

Raina snaps the photograph contemptuously from his hand;
tears it up; throws the pieces in.his face; and sweeps back
to her former place.

150

SERGIUS (with grim enjoyment of his rival's discomfiture)
Bluntschli: my one last belief is gone. Your sagacity is a
fraud, like everything else. You have less sense than even
I!

BLUNTSCHLI (overwhelmed) Twenty-three! Twenty-three!!

(He considers). Hm! (Swiftly making up his mind and com-
ing to his host) In that case, Major Petkoff, I beg to pro—
pose formally to become a suitor for your daughter's hand,
in place of Major Saranoff retired.

RAINA You dare!

BLUNTSCHLI If you.were twenty-three when you said those
things to me this afternoon, I shall take them seriously.

CATHERINE (loftily polite) I doubt, sir, whether you quite
realize either my daughter's position or that of Major Ser—
gius Saranoff, whose place you propose to take. The Petkoffs
and the Saranoffs are known as the richest and most important
families in the country. Our position is almost historical:
we can go back for twenty years.

PETKOFF Oh, never mind that, Catherine. (To Bluntschli)
We should be most happy, Bluntschli, if it were only a
question of your position; but hang it, you know, Raina is
accustomed to a very comfortable establishment. Sergius
keeps twenty horses.

BLUNTSCHLI But who wants twenty horses? We're not going to
keep a circus.

CATHERINE (severely) My daughter, sir, is accustomed to a
first-rate stable.

'RAINA Hush, mother: youre making me ridiculous.

BLUNTSCHLI Oh well, if it comes to a question of an estab-
lishment, here goes! (He darts impetuously to the table;
seizesfithe papers in the bluewonvelgpg; and turns to Sergius).
How man horses did you say?

SERGIUS Twenty, noblh Switzer.

BLUNTSCHLI I have two hundred.horses. (They are amazed).
How many carriages?

SERGIUS Three.

151

BLUNTSCHLI I have seventy. Twenty-four of them will hold
twelve inside, besides two on the box, without counting the
driver and conductor. How many tablecloths have you?

SERGIUS How the deuce do I know?
BLUl-ITSCHLI Have you four thousand?
SERGIUS No.

BLUNTSCHLI I have. I have nine thousand six hundred pairs
of sheets and blankets, with two thousand four hundred elder-
down quilts. I have ten thousand knives and forks, and the
same quantity of dessert spoons. I have three hundred ser-
vants. I have six palatial establishments, besides two
livery stables, a tea garden, and a private house. I have
four medals for distinguished services; I have the rank of
an officer and the standing of a gentleman; and I have three
native languages. Show me any man in Bulgaria that can
offer as much!

PE'I'KOFF (with childish awe) Are you Enperor of Switzerland?

BLUNTSCHLI My rank is the highest known in Switzerland: I
am a free citizen.

CATHERINE The, Captain Bluntschli, since you are my daughter's
choice—-

RAINA (mutinously) Her not.

CATHERINE (ignoring her)--I shall not stand in the way of
her happiness. (Petkoff is about to speak) That is Major
Petknff's feeling also.

PETKOFF Oh, I shall be only too glad. Two hundred horses!
Whew!

SERGIUS What says the lady?

RAINA (pretending to sulk) The lady says that he can keep
his tablecloths and his omnibuses. I am not here to be sold
to the highest bidder. (She turns her back on him).

BLUNTSCHLI I wont take that answer. I appealed to you as a
fugitive, a beggar, and a starving man. You accepted me.
You gave me your hand to kiss, your bed to sleep in, and your
roof to shelter me.

152
RAINA I did not give them to the Emperor of Switzerland.

BLUIITSCHLI Thats just what I say. (He catches her by the
shoulders and turns her face—to-face with him). Now tell us
whom you did give them to.

RAINA (succumbing with a shy smile) To my chocolate cream
soldier.

BLL "1‘3ch (with a boyish laugh of delight) Thatll do,
Thank you. (He looks at his watch and suddenly becomes bus-
inesslike). Time's up, dajor. Youve managed those regi—
ments wo well that youre sure to be asked to get rid of some
of the infantry of the Timok division. Send them home by
way of Lon Palanka. Saranoff: dont get married until I

come back: I shall be here punctually at five in the evening
on Tuesday fortnight. Gracious ladies (his heels click)
good evening. (He makes them a military bow, and goes).

SERGIUS What a man! Is he a man!

WVI

AN ANALYSIS OF THE TECHNICAL PROBLEMS
OF EXECUTION AND PRODUCTION

CHAPTER VI

AN ANALYSIS OF TEE TECHNICAL PROBLEIS
OF EXECUTION AND PRODUCTION

The purpose of this chapter is to give consideration to the
major problems that developed in the execution of the settings and
the technical organization of the production. The problems insthe
order that they will be discussed involve construction of the scenery,
shifting of the scenery and properties, procurement of properties, use
of sound effects, and lighting the production.

The construction of the scenery, though basically quite simple,
provided the designer wdth problems that might not have developed.un—
der other circumstances. The first problem.to consider was the need
to keep down the overall cost of the production, a matter of particular
importance to the small theatre that operates within a very limited
budget.

Past productions in this theatre, for the most part, required
only realistic interior settings which could be put up from standard
flats on hand. This type of setting usually did not require mudh
special construction, thereby keeping the cost of the technical phase
of the production to a minimum. Arms and the Man, on the other hand,
required the construction of completely new scenery because of its
style of design. As already noted in Chapter IN, the design for this
production of Arms and the Man involved the use of a stylized type
of setting. Because this style uses only selected or simplified real-

istic elements of scenery special construction was required for the

155
entire production.

The first step in approaching the construction phase of the
production was the inventory of materials on hand so that a tenative
budget could be established. The inventory revealed that sufficient
lumber from stock and salvage from old flats was available for the
basic construction of the needed scenery. The only items which were
not on hand and not possible to salvage were the composition board
needed for the arch and door units, the muslin with which to cover the
new construction, and five wood "two by fours" for the supporting pil-
lars used in Act III. Since this type of lumber was seldom used in
scenery construction, there was none on hand nor was the purchase
deemed advisable. This left the designer with the problem of acquir-
ing this item in some other manner.

The Playhouse, having the support of the City of Grand Haven,
found it possible to borrow certain materials from time to time when
they could be used without destroying the value of the material for
re-use by the city. Since the two-by—fours would not be damaged exp
cept for a few screw holes where hinges were attached, the city was
willing to lend them to the Playhouse for this production.

Careful planning and management throughout the entire production
process indicated that the scenery budget could be met for less than
twenty dollars.

Arms and the Man, because of its multi—set requirements, needed
more construction time than was usually alloted a regular Playhouse

production. The designer felt that this extra time was essential for

156
two reasons: 1. the small Playhouse group doubled in almost every
production as both actors and crew, and 2. this production required
a great deal of special construction which had to be done by hand tools
because the Playhouse was not equipped with power tools.

The most difficult problem.faced during the construction pro-
cess was in the building of the arch units, the window for the door
unit, and the profile piece for the top of the Frendh window. Each
of these pieces were cut from four by eight foot sheets of composition
board. Since the Playhouse owned no power tools all of these pieces
were cut with hand tools Applying the thickness to each of these
pieces was a time consuming process. All of the many supporting blocks
were cut by hand.and the forming of the curves had to be done very
carefully to keep from breaking the composition board. Construction
of the three foot six inch by eight foot flats and their supporting
stage Jacks was not difficult but time consuming because of the lack
of power tools. The door unit and French window had.been built pre-
viously for other Playhouse productions with the plan in mind of using
them in A_r_m_s_ in §h_e_ Egg; This saved many hours of construction time
which is at a premium in summer theatre work.

Another problem.with which the designer’had to cope was that
of assembling the completed scenery. Since the design of the setting
incorporated the use of basic pieces of scenery to be used in all
three acts, a hinging plan was needed which would permit these pieces
to be inter-changeable wdth each other. To provide for rapid shifting

all of the hinges were of the loose pin variety.

157

In order to be absolutely sure that the hinges on each of the
pieces of scenery would.match with any one of the other pieces extremely
accurate measurements were necessary in locating the points where the
hinges were to be attached.

An example of how intricate the hinging process was is shown in
the way the arch units were used in Acts I and III. In Act I the arches
were in an inverted position and.hinged to each other, to the door
‘unit, and French window at the sides. On the bottom these units hinged
to the wall flats. For Act III each of these arches was used in a
normal position and was attached to the top of the pillars and to the
door unit. Figure 1h gives a complete diagram of how the assembly
was accomplished.

To complete the assembly necessitated the use of a large floor
area where the secnery could be laid out flat in the position it would
be used in each of the three acts. The only large area available in
the Playhouse was the auditorium. This part of the construction was
therefore—delayed until the production preceeding the present play
had closed. This delay, though not desirable on a tight production
schedule, was unavoidable and had to be worked into the overall plan.

Problems of shifting the scenery had been given consideration
in the design of the setting. All of the scenery was designed to be
as light and easily shifted as possible. The fact that the Playhouse
lacked many facilities made the problem of shifting a very important
factor in the design. The designer, knew that a large part of the
stage crew would be female, and so worked on the premis that the suc-

cessful shifting of the scenery would depend on how easily and quickly

153

Scenery Assembly Diagram

 

 

Act I

X = LOSE PIN Hmess
ALL VIEWS FROM REAR ELEVATION

rm lel‘ofl‘e‘rfifl

 

 

 

Act II

 

 

 

Act III

159
it could be handled under these conditions. The advice given by

Mordecai Gorelik was kept in mind by the designer at all times.

Ingenuity is a cardinal virtue in a scene designer; indeed
it is not only a virtue but a prime necessity. ....It is in the
matter of shifting that ingenuity is taxed to the utmost. The
problem of scene shifting, along with that of sight lines, is
basic to the art of scene design. Methods of scene shifting must
be reliable, labor-saving, and swift. More than that, they must
not hurt the artistry of the settings. Indeed it is a sign of
the true scenic artist that he makes a virtue of necessity, get-
ting artistic qualities out of :3 very limitations which the
shifting problem imposes upon h .

To insure the rapid shifting of the settings, each scene was
designed so that only a minimum amount of scenery would have to be
moved in any one scene. The dasigi as developed was well suited for
the rapid shifts. The mJor problem was to move the properties off

and on the stage without getting than in the way of the scenery as it

was being shifted.

 

 

‘—

m Figure 15s a

The shift from Act I to Act II was as follows: the window back.-
ing went directly up center and was stacked against the back wall of
area B (see Figure 15); the balcony moved to the stage left side of
area B; the window unit stacked against the backing up center: the

arch units followed and were stacked on the balcony. mile the scenery

1Mordecai Gorelik "Designing the Pl " Producin the Play, ed.
John Gassner, (New York: Dryden Press, 1931}. 321'. _—

160
was being struck the all props were removed from the stage with the
furniture following in this order: the bed moved directly up center
with the night stand and ottoman on the bed; the chest was struck im-
mediately after the bed and stood to the right of the bed. With the
property strike completed the stage right wall unit was moved up a-
gainst the back wall so that the door unit left could be shifted right

to be in readiness for Act III.

m (>3:

(ZZZ.

 

Figure 16

To complete the shift to Act II the three remaining wall units
were moved into their proper position, and at the same time the three
emller wall units moved in from right and left where they were stored
during Act I. The furniture consisting of the bench, table and two
chairs were moved on through the up center entrance followed by the
espalia trees and small props. After all of the furniture and small
props were on stage the two gates were attached completing the setting.
The total time required for the complete shift was four minutes. The
designer felt that this was exceptionally good timing for the shift

with the congested conditions which existed backstage.

161
ALT 11’
FunucTuRE

 

‘ (:0:
f'I-HSMA IR

111.;
W $32. />~mm

Figure 17o

The shift from Act II to Act III was more difficult and re-
quired more time because of the assembly problem brought about by
the restricted stage area in which the crew had to work. Because of
the minimum number of properties and furniture used in Act II the
strike of these articles was handled swiftly. .After the preperty
strike, the stage area was kept clear to facilitate the assembly of
wall units B and D. Only one unit at a time could be assembled because
of the previously mentioned lack of space. The assembly procedure was .
as follows: wall unit B was laid flat on the floor and pillars one and
two and arch unit B were attached; the assembled unit was then raised
into position. The same procedure was followed for unit D. After
these two units were in place the door unit E and.the pre.assembled
wall unit I were moved into place. Ihis completed the shifting of
the set except for wall and arch unit A.which was left out until the
furniture had been placed on the stage.

To put arch unit A into place after the properties were set

required the use of two step ladders backstage. The arch was lifted

162

'ah‘ifii

0000
I“
U!
(H
“‘65 [H

EU ME
3 1

l
I OTTGMM
I

arm]

mm

3?
‘Tu

 

m Figure 18. m

into position and pin hinged between units B and D which had pillars
two and three in common with unit A. While this was being done the
corners B and I were pinned and the temporary support for the pillar
in corner I was removed. This support was necessary because unit D
and unit I had pillar four in cannon, which was used in the assembly
of unit D. As soon as the two units were pinned together the ten-
porary support was no longer needed for unit I.

In working out the scene shifts the designer made a list of
each piece of scenery and properties that had to be shifted during
each scene change. The lists were then arranged according to the
order that each item would have to be moved. Once this was accomplish.—
ed each of the eleven persons who would be involved was assigned the
items to be moved and the order in which to move them. then the as-
signments had been made several rehearsals were held to find out where
difficulties might be encountered and changes made in the shift se-
quence. The first two rehearsals were intentionally kept at a very

slow pace for the crew to become familiar with the routine and to spot

163
the weak points in the original shift sequence. The following rehear-
sals were speeded up and the crew began working toward making the shift
as rapidly as possible. Some minor changes in the traffic pattern
were made once the speed factor entered into the shifts, but most of
the major changes had been worked out in the first two rehearsals.
Both of the shifts todk less than ten minutes each during the actual
production, and excellent record considering the limited area in which
the crew was forced to work.

The securing of properties for the production provided some
problems which could only be solved through special construction in
the Playhouse shop. Most of the furniture used in Playhouse produc-
tions was loaned by local patrons in Grand Haven. Since the requirements
fa' this production were unusaul only part of the furniture could be
secured in this manner. The specific type of furniture required by
Shaw, particularly the canopied bed and the ottoman, was not found in
the average home.

After several days of searching the following usable items had
been located: the chest and night stand used in Act I, a bench and
two chairs for Act II, and two chairs for.Act III. The bed, ottoman,
bed stool, and the two tables had to be built specially for the pro—
duction.

The bed was constructed out of an old table which was altered
to the necessary size of three by seven feet. The original legs were
cut to give the bed a height of twentyaeight inches, and extensions

seven feet long were added at the head. To these extensions was

161+

added.a pyramid shaped framework which was covered to form the canopy.
Although the actual construction was of a rough nature the covering of
the bed and the drapery of the canopy completely enclosed it from the

audiences' view.

The stool for the bed was constructed from.half of a nail keg
which was padded on the top and covered on the sides with material
matching the bed covering.

Construction of the ottoman was more difficult because of its
size and oval shape, but it was accomplished with odds and ends of
material from.the lumber bin. The overall dimensions were siityh
leight inches long by fifty-four inches wide. .A center post of the
same oval shape was set in the center of the ottoman, and was approx;
imately One third the size. Both the ottomanpand the center post were
fifteen inches high.

The two tables were reconstructed from old tables which be-
longed to the Playhouse. The Act II table was of bent wire legs with
a two feet circular top. It was made to look.in design as much like
the garden chairs being used as possible. For the Act III table no
actual structural changes were made. An effort was made to make it
look.as much out of place as possible, by painting it to contrast with
the chairs being used.

The problems arising out. of sound effects for £122. a_n_d g3 1.43.5
were few, and confined to Act I. Effects needed were gun shots, loud
knocking on a door, and shouting from off stage. The last two effects

presented no problems for the designer, but some difficulties were

165
encountered with the gun shots. Original plans called for the use of
recorded gun shots, but this was found to be impractical because of
the sequence of the shots. An alternative solution was to use blank
cartridges which could be fired as the production requirements demanded.
The first rehearsal in which the gun shots were used proved that the
stage area was too small to provide the effect of the shots coming
from outside the house. The solution to the problem was to fire the
blanks outside the stage entrance, but this brought the local law en-
forcement agencies into the picture. Because of previous difficulties
encountered with residents in the area anticipated complaints would
probably be filed about the noise involved. To protect the interest
of the Playhouse a permit was requested from both the local police
and the sheriff's office. The permit was granted with no difficulty
and the resulting effects were satisfactory for the production.

Lighting for the production required a night scene lighted
by candles in Act I, morning in the Petkoff garden for Act II, and
late afternoon in the library for.Act III. Act I was the only act
that required any special effects in the way of lighting. .As men-
tioned in Chapter II, the designer and director had decided to use
real candles rather than the electric variety. The latter would
luave been a better choice because of the danger involved in'lsing
an open flame on stage, but more difficult to handle.

The actors had to extinguish and relight the candles several
times during the course of Act I. This would.have required a separate

dimmer for each of the candles to create the effect necessary. The

166
Playhouse equipment was limited in the number of dimmers available mak;
ingit impossible to handle each of the candles on an individual basis.
Also there was the possibility of error in timing since the light board
was not situated so that the operator could watch the stage to time
the dim down and.dim.up, as the candles were extinguished and relighted.

Metal shades were used with the candles to minimize the danger
from.the cpen flame, but even this precaution did not provide for the
unexpected as was discovered opening night.

Near the end of Act I when Bluntschli was alone on.the stage one
of the candles, located stage right, collapsed‘unexpectedly. Fortunate-
ly it was noticed.immediately and extinguished before any trouble could
develop.

The Act I lighting was primarily area lighting. The areas cover-
ed were stage right where the bed and night stand were located and.up
left where a second set of candles was located on the chest. Fill in
lighting was used between the areas to cover the ottoman located cen-
ter stage. No general illumination was felt to be necessary since the
time was night and the only light motivation was the candles.

Two dimmer circuits were used to control these lights which con-
sisted of a total of eight instruments, six on stage and two in the
beams. One of the dimmers controlled the stage right area lights
covering the bed, and the other controlled the stage left and center
area lights focused on the ottoman and chest. Each of the areas could
be dimmed as the candles motivating the light in these areas were put

out and relighted.

167

.A dark number seventy two amber gelatin3 was used in the stage
lights and a light number one hundred twenty pink gelatin was used in
the two beam lights. Because of the dark gelatin in the stage lights
these instruments could not be used in the lighting of the other two
acts. I

The Act II and III lighting used the remaining twelve instru»
ments plus the two beam lights used in Act 1. Because these two acts
were motivated only by natural daylight there was no need for a change
of color between acts. The contrast between the bright morning light
of Act II and the mellowing afternoon light of Act III was created.by
a change of intensity in the lighting. The areas were cross lighted
in so far as possible with the minimum number of instruments available
using light pinks and straws for the warm colors and steel blue for the
cool color. All of these instruments were on dimmers two of which
were the same dimmers used in.Act I. This re-use of dimmers was made
possible without replugging through the use of the transfer case. The
dimmers could be changed from.one instrument to another merely by
throwing one switch off and another on, thereby making the dimmer setup
very flexible.

In summary the technical problems encountered were: 1. the coup
struction of all new scenery with only hand tools and the problems of
assembling the basic pieces; 2. the necessity of building a large

part of the furniture because of its special function in the play; 3.

 

2Gelatins were purchased from Mid West Stage Lighting 00., Chicago.

168

the Problem of developing an effective sound effect for the gun shots;
and 1L. the technical problems involved in lighting the production with

limited equipment, particularly in Act I where candles were required.

CRAPI'ERVII

GORCLUSIOIIS

CHAPTER VII
CONCLUSIONS

The purpose of this thesis, as indicated in the introduction,
was to devise a method of producing multi-set shows in the small sum-
mer theatre with limited facilities and financial resources.

As a result of extensive planning and consideration of the pro-
duction problems of Arms and the Man, the designer decided upon a unit
type of setting using a combination of stylization and simplified
realism in its design. This type of setting was composed of basic
sized units of scenery which could be used interchangeably. The
flexibility of this type of setting made it possible to use a minimum
amount of scenery while meeting the needs of several sets.

The advantages of this type of setting for the small summer
theatre are as follows: 1. it eliminated the need for backstage
storage space for extra pieces of scenery not being used in all acts;
2. most of the scenery was of a much smaller size than the conventional
flats and therefore easier to move by hand in the absence of any type
of shifting facilities; 3. the construction of the set was easier to
execute in the limited time available for a summer theatre production.

Among the more serious disadvantages was that of adaptability.
The unit set is a possible solution for those plays which will lend
themselves to stylization and simplification in production, but it
would not serve as well for plays requiring a more realistic treatment.

Another major disadvantage was found in assembly and shifting. Since

 

171
all of the units were designed to be inter—changeable the hinging for
each unit had to be very accurate so that they could be put together
easily and quickly. This phase of the execution required more time
than.had been anticipated; however, experience in.handling this type
of set would help eliminate or lessen this problem. The major compli-
cation that developed in shifting the scenery was that of traffic.
With most of the scenery used in the production on stage at all times
a great deal of well planned organization and rehearsal was needed to
keep the shifts flowing smoothly. The moving of the scenery to its
various positions and the changing of properties had to be dovetailed
exactly to eliminate delays in the shifts.

As for its use in 5:91“. and. t_h_e__ M35, at the Lake Michigan Play-
house, the designer felt that this type of set was an excellent solup
tion to the problems invoked for this particular theatre. The scenery,
for the most part, was on stage at all times leaving the small backs
stage area available for the storage of the properties required for the
three settings. The use of basic arches and wall units made the
change from an interior to an exterior and.hack to an interior again
very easy to accomplish. The arbitrary use of a black eye for the back.
ground to all three settings was a great aid in the use of this type
of setting, since it focused attention on the sets, and helped to uni-
fy them.

The unit type of setting was much easier to light since in
actuality the problem was in.lighting only one set rather than three.

This was true because the same scenery was used in all three acts and

172

and the basic color of the setting and the background never changed.
This eliminated the necessity of having a great number of lighting
instruments or changing color’medium during the scene shifts. Any
changes in mood or atmosphere created by the lighting could.be made
by the number of instruments used and the intensity at which they
were set.

This particular production proved that many of Shaw's multi- 1

set plays, as well as those of other playwrights, could be adequately 1

 

mounted without an elaborate production layout or great financial *
resources. The actual cost of settings and properties for this produc-
tion was approximately twenty dollars, a sum.which would hardly stain 3

the budget of even the smallest of summer theatres.

APPENDIX

 

 

ACT I

SETTING

171+

 

ni‘ -ln‘l‘a‘lt‘t“- I‘ll .

 

176

ACT II

SETTING

 

 

17s

ACT III

SETTING

   

PLATEI

sum PLAN

180

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

182

 

PLATE II !

GROUND PLANS

ACTS I - II- III

181+

PLATE III

ELEVATION DRAWINGS

DOOR UNIT.AND FRENCH WINDOW

 

 

‘V‘I‘IIJ

186

PLATE IV

WINDOW DETAIL FOR

DOOR'UNIT

188

PLATEV

PROFILE DETAIL FOR

FRENDH WINIDW

190

PLATEVI

ELEVATION mums
FLATS, moms, mes

192

PLATE VII

DETAIL OF FRENCI WINDOW

PILLARS AND BRACE JACKS

 

PLATE VIII

ACT I STRIKE PLOT

191+

196

PLATE II

ACT II SET ILOT

193

PLATE]!

ACT II STRIKE PLOT

PLATE XI

ACT III SET PLOT

PLATE XII

ACT I LIGHT PLOT

202

eon

 

PLATE XIII

ACT II LIGHT PLOT

PLATE XIV

ACT III LIGHT PLOT

206

208

 

REVIEI

July 28, 1951+

”Arms 1111 The Man" Proves.
Treasure Trove of Human;

.3

l

-B\'-_

f
11

By Betty Chastein especially good characterization
George Bernard Shaw’s hilarious the Woman who felt so keenly th
comedy. satire‘ Arms and the Marry ce 0f POSifiOIl and batch
opened Tuesday night at the Lake Her stage presence we

Michigan Playhouse and was found
to be, a treasure trove of fun rungs.
ing‘fi‘brl-hu'btle wit to carthy'lml'i

completely in accordance with he
role and her manner and vet
were especially well suitul. fix ad-‘~

 

i vant. er" 611113111111 W

 

1111mm:

mor.
Mme“ Mudge, appearing 1151
young Raina Petkoff. was alter

Speich' is to be complitnenhd os
excellent job as costumer £an

nately haughty and affected. flirta- Period “lay
itious and demure in this role as Appearing as Major Petkefl,
{the Bulgarian girl who -hero--wor win Bockstiegel, locum miniiifl'

shin: 5 her fiance only to find that
the,L We» love" is nothing but a
rd SJ Mi 5 Mudge was truly
suns {is r‘owsal and her

voice was particularly fine, both

was completely convincing.
manner and voice thoroughly
:hls age ugh!
111 41w Mari! a. food of
wife and daughter, though
1‘! We 1110111111513: incl “WW‘them. sad
',ch taking the e 01 haps fender still of his life in
ltaina' 5 1111111111. Catheiiie‘algid an {army He M

1313

—.

   
  
 

 

'l

  
  

‘ audience. for his Well ar-
cterlzation. ‘
101141 (11.111111111111111 ’imm't-
schli - a 811151 "the ' who
gets assistance from the! etkofl
women as he flees from pursuing
soldiers — was charming and deb-

1Shaw tells the others that life is
not really a sham. but some-
thing real and vibrant. Gum
i-was particularly good in the first
act when disheveled and exhaus-
ted, he cllmliel'l into Raina’ 3 room
to seek refuge.

 

thence, Bill froaster seemed to
‘; throughly enjoy his role as a many-
gsided ”malty trying to as-
cover his re s.elf His swam
and nearly ov aring charm were
a delight, and line felt relieved to
jtliscover that he could find him-1
self 'a true man, following his heart
“instead of his slightly off~base in-
_{Itellcct
,1 Pat Coffinp,‘ as Rain-11’s mt”.

 

dition to her fine portrayal, "311$“
It

bowl 11011111,. we'll
t'QiDennis

, tmctive. 1

1111.

the rolewexcel- tions.

in and was wellareceivedch by tain,“

tonalr in the role though which

As Sergius Saranoff, Raina’st

 

Louisa, nearly- stole the show with
'Jher herspirit and fire. Her role as,
the servsnr‘vtth dreams of higher
oliving and courage to fight for
them. can Miss Ooffman full field
to use racial empressions and he!“

I". ..

 

 

 

   
   
 

sta sndmflegggd film

11111111111110.1111”,
mes Ron " ,

‘gfiefly and credibly es

tampamhofthes ..‘

1.11.11.11.11; "
sets were well-exec“ ,

«Armand
direction?!-

210

LAM MICHIGAN PLAYHOUSE
PROM
ARMS AND THE 1111!

 

1
427/4715 4121/ lazy/”1m ” 4'

George Bernard Shaw

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

flit/y 27 - ill/y 3/

Direcoed by W. A. Gregory
Settings and Lighting by E. J. Dennis

 

 

Lake Michigan Playhouse

 

BIBLIOGRAPHY

 

BIBLIOGRAmY

Bentley, Eric, The Playwright as Thinker. New York: Reynal and
Hitchcock, 1910. 382 pp.

Colbourne, Maurice, T_h__e_ Heal Bernard Shaw. New York: Dodd, Mead and
00., 19%. 253 pp.

Friederich, W. J., and J. H. Fraser, §_c_ener1 Desifl for the Amateur
Stage. New York: The Macmillan 00., 1950. 262 pp.

Gassner, John, A TreaM g; the Theatre, New York: Simon and Schuster,
1950. 1120 pp.

, Masters 2!; the Drama. New York: Dower Publications, 196.
585 pp.

Gorelik, Mordecai, New Theatres E33. 913. New York: Samuel French,
1952- 553 pp.

, Producing t__h; Pig, John Gassner, editor. New York: Dryden
PrCSS. 9 1e 915 pp.

Henderson, Archibald, George Bernard Shag His Life and Works. Cin—
cinnati: Steward and Kidd 00., 1911. 528 pp.

9, Bernard Shaw. New York: D. Appleton and 00., 1932. 872 pp.

Irvine, William, The Universe 21; Q. I_B_. §.. New York: Hhittlesey House,
191190 1‘89 PP-

Pearson,‘ Hasketh, G. B. _s_. £10.11 Dength Portrait. New York: Harper
and Bree., 1952. 390 pp.

Rattray, R. F., Bernapd Shaw: A Chronicle. New York: Roy Publishers,
1951. 3M5 pp.

Selden, S. and H. D. Bellman, Stage Scenerx and Lighting. New York:
Appleton—Century-Crofts Inc., 1936. 1435' pp.

Shaw, 0. 3., Arm gingham. Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1952. 78 pp.

,Mtic Qinions gig Esfls. New York: Brentano's, 1917. Vol.
I, 301 pp., Vol. II, 307 pp.

_. Heartbreak House, Great Catherine, and Playlete at; 11:13 1213.: New
York: Brentano'e, 1919. 319 pp.

2114
Shaw, G. B., Prefaces, London: Odhams Press Ltd., 1938. 839 pp.

, M193}: Baltimore: Penguin Books, 1951. 125 pp.

Simonson, Lee, The; £11 9_f_’_ Scenic Design. New York: Harper and Bros.,

, The Stage i_s_ §_e_’_c_. New York: Harcourt Brace and 00., 1932.
Part o_i_’_ a Lifetime. New York: Duell, Sloan and Pierce,
Inc., 1953.

PERIODI OILS

Shaw, 0. B., “Make Them Do It Well", Colliers, June 21+, 1922.

, "Miealliance", Theatre Arts. 27:36, Sept. 191+3.

NENSPAPERS

The New York Times: June 23, 1951+.

VITA

Elmer J. Dennis Jr. was born in Flint, Michigan November 21}, 1927.
He attended the Flint public school system graduating from Northern
High School in June 19%. Upon graduation he enlisted in the Air Force
and served three years in the United States and Alaska. In the fall
of 1919 he enrolled in Michigan State University and graduated with a
B. S. in June of 1952. During his undergraduate years he majored in
theatre and served in various capacities in over twenty productions.
Immediately after graduation he assumed the duties of designer-tech.-
nical director at the Lake Michigan Playhouse sumer theatre where he
remained for three summers. In the fall of 1952 he enrolled in the
graduate school of Ohio State University. After one quarter he trans-
ferred back to Michigan State as a graduate student. In the spring of
1953 he was married to Margaret Andersen, an undergraduate student at
Michigan State. While pursuing his M. A. degree during the 53-5“
school year he served as a graduate assistant in technical theatre.
Upon completing all class work for the degree, he accepted a position
as designer for the Stephens College Playhouse in Columbia, Missouri
for a one year period. During the summer of 1955 he returned to

Michigan to complete the remaining work on his M. A. degree.