A. Colin Wright

Lieutenant Kizhe

Introduction

The story of Lieutenant Kizhe originates in two anecdotes published in St. Petersburg in 1901, in a collection of various materials relating to the reign of Paul I. According to one of these, a copy-clerk's error resulted in a misreading of a name by the Emperor and the creation of a nonexistent Lieutenant Kizh, who was subsequently promoted all the way up to colonel. Only when Paul asked to see Lieutenant Kizh so as promote him to general, did the authorities realize that a mistake had been made. They told the Emperor that Kizh had died. “That's a shame,” Paul said, “He was a good officer.” In the second anecdote an officer of a company of Dragoons was mistakenly listed as dead, and consequently asked his commandant for a certificate stating that he was alive. The commandant refused, however, not daring to do so after an official order had stated the officer to be dead. Finding himself without rights or pay, the officer petitioned the Emperor, who similarly refused since dead men cannot write petitions (qtd. in Tynianov, Izbrannye xxi-xxii).

It was these two stories that the Russian critic and satirical writer Yury Tynianov (1894-1943) took as the basis for his novella “Lieutenant Kizhe” (”Podporuchik Kizhe”), which was first published in the literary journal Red Virgin Soil (Krasnaia nov') in 1928. A few years later a film was based on the novella, and in 1933 its director, A. Faintsimmer, commissioned Sergei Prokofiev to write the score. Prokofiev did so, and the following year he transformed it into his popular Lieutenant Kizhe Suite — which turned out to be a great deal more successful than the film.

Since Prokofiev's delightfully whimsical music has become so closely identified with the story, it was an obvious choice as incidental music for the adaptation of the novella when, in 1992, A Colin Wright was approached by Valerie Robertson, founder and co-director of Theatre 5 in Kingston, Ontario, with the suggestion to dramatize Tynianov's work. The suite consists of five movements: “The Birth of Kizhe,” “Romance,” “Kizhe's Wedding,” “Troika,” and “The Burial of Kizhe,” all of which are used at various points in the play as indicated in the script by approximate compact disc times.

The playwright had a number of problems in writing the adaptation, the first of which was how to convey in English a copy-clerk's mistake that relies on a confusion brought about by Russian words. Tynianov's text has the bureaucratic error created by a blot falling in the middle of the word for “sub-lieutenants,” “podporuchiki” causing the clerk to think he has abbreviated it as “podporuch.” When he is forced to recopy it, he takes its plural ending, “ki,” as the beginning of a new word that is then combined with the meaningless emphatic particle “zhe.” The result is a new name, “Kizhe.” This, of course, is untranslatable into English, and indeed, the standard English translation of the novella takes the final syllable of “lieutenants” and changes Kizhe's name into Nants (Tynianov, Lieutenant), obscuring the link to Prokofiev's music and a name that has become well-known. The playwright's solution was to keep, with an explanation, the word “podporuchik” and take the final “zhe” in its other sense as the name of a Russian letter, “zh”, which now comes to represent the initial of the next officer on the list. (It should be noted that “zh” is pronounced like the “s” in “pleasure” or like the French “j”: indeed, Kizhe's name is spelled “Kijé” in French.)

A second problem was that the novella lacks the resolution that is dramatically necessary to a stage play. Siniukhaev, as Tynianov calls the living officer who is considered dead, simply disappears without a trace, whereas officially the cause of Emperor Paul I's death was given as apoplexy, he was in fact murdered by his guard officers. Since Siniukhaev in the novella comes to long for death, and Paul obviously has no desire for it, the playwright hit upon the solution of having Siniukhaev murdered in Paul's place, while Paul escapes. This, of course, substantially changes both history and Tynianov's own conclusion to the story, but it is none the less in accord with the idea of the absurd that underlies the whole play. Moreover, it is not entirely contrary to the spirit of Russian history, which has many stories of a tsar's survival after his supposed death.

A further matter for decision was whether or not to treat the many historical figures with at least some degree of accuracy. The story is a farcical satire, not only, obviously, on the bureaucracy, but also on human pretensions and desires. Tynianov throughout the novella emphasizes the absurd, taking history as a convenient background for his own purposes, and there seemed no reason for the playwright to do otherwise, particularly for an English-speaking audience not unduly concerned with the details of Russian history. Having made a number of changes already, the playwright did not hesitate to make others, even when they were not entirely faithful to historical record. Catherine the Great and her love Platon Zubov are additions to Tynianov's story, and Catherine's love affairs are certainly exaggerated, as are the many stories still told about her in Russia today. Zubov was one of the leading figure in the plot to assassinate Paul, along with Count Pahlen who, in order to make the play less confusing, was combined into the figure of Nelendinsky-Melitsky, another of Paul's courtiers. Nelendinsky-Melitsky also has features of Count Arakcheev, who does appear in Tynianov's novella. Thus, Nelendinsky-Meletsky is a composite of three major figures. He himself, a minor poet, never created the kind of doggerel recited in the play, nor is he known as paying court to Catherine Nelidova and others. She too, although a favourite of Paul, was less of the traditional courtesan figure than she appears here. Despite these changes, however, the play remains true to the spirit of Tynianov, and is relevant to society in general even today, as representative of life's absurdities and ironies.

Lieutenant Kizhe was accepted for production for Theatre 5's 1993-94 season. In the meantime, however, the playwright submitted it to the 1993 Theatre BC Canadian National Playwrighting Competition, where it was the winner of the special merit category. It was described by the judges as “a sharp, brilliant satire of bureaucracy, blind acceptance of authority and the folly of false perception” and as “a masterful piece of work that is as opulent and grand as the Court of Russia it is set in.” This resulted in workshopping at Granville Island in Vancouver with actors and a professional director, John Cooper, which resulted in the usual changes made before a play is performed.

It was finally produced at Theatre 5 in Kingston 2-13 November 1993, directed by Valerie Robertson. It was also accepted for publication on demand by International Readers' Theatre (Blizzard Press) in March 1999, and is currently being looked at by several other theatres.

A. Colin Wright

Works Cited

• Tynianov, Iu. N, Izbrannye proizvedeniia. Moscow: Khudozhestvennaia literatura, 1956.
• Tynianov, Yury. Lieutenant Kizhe, Young Vitushnikov. Trans. Mirra Ginsburg. Boston: Eridanos, 1990.

A. Colin Wright

Lieutenant Kizhe

Adapted from the novel by Yuri Tynianov with incidental music by Sergei Prokofiev

Characters

If necessary, the play may be performed with a minimum of six actors. Suggested doubling of roles — entailing a number of very quick changes — is given below. Ideally, the cast would consist of a larger number, as was the case for the play's first performance, which used ten actors. Variations in casting are at the discretion of the individual theatre.

EMPEROR PAUL I OF RUSSIA, in his mid-forties

SUB-LIEUTENANT SINIUKHAEV (pronounced Sin-yu-KHIGH-ef), a young army officer

CATHERINE II (CATHERINE THE GREAT)), mother of Paul I, 67 years old. She speaks with a heavy German accent. May also play:

CATHERINE NELIDOVA (Ne-LEE-do-va), the Emperor's favourite

FIRST LADY ARISTOCRAT

MOURNER

PLATON ZUBOV (Pla-TON ZOO-bof), about 30, Catherine II's last official favourite. May also play:

CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD

GUARD

HOSPITAL ORDERLY

PRIEST

SECOND GENTLEMAN ARISTOCRAT

MOURNER

COUNT NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY (Ne-LAY-din-sky Me-LET-sky), Minister of State and a minor poet, in his late 40s. May also play:

SOLDIER

MAJOR

POST-HOUSE SUPERINTENDENT

NATASHA'S LOVER

FIRST GENTLEMAN ARISTOCRAT

NATASHA, lady-in-waiting to Nelidova. May also play:

SOLDIER

SINIUKHAEV'S ORDERLY

HOSPITAL ORDERLY

SECOND LADY ARISTOCRAT

CONSPIRATOR

(LIEUTENANT KIZHE does not in fact exist. It is important, however, that his name be pronounced correctly: Kee-ZHAY, with the ‘zh’ sounding like the ‘s’ in ‘measure.’ It is sometimes spellt KIJE, where the ‘j’ would be pronounced as in French.)

Further Notes on Pronunciation

Russian names (other than those indicated in the cast list above) and other words mentioned are pronounced roughly as follows.

Azancheev: A-zan-CHAY-ef
Bennigsen: BENN-ig-sen
Naryshkin: Na-RYSH-kin
Pavlushka: PAV-lush-ka
Petrov: Pe-TROF
Petrovich: Pe-TROV-ich
podporuchiki: pod-po-ROOCH-ik-y. As abbrebreviated:
podporuch.: pod-po-ROOCH
Potiomkin, Grigory: Po-TYOM-kin, Gri-GOR-y
Romanov: Ro-MAH-nof
Sandunova, Emilia: San-DOON-ov-a, E-MEEL-ia
Sokolov: So-ko-LOF

Action

The action takes place between 1796 and 1801, at various locations for the most part in, or just outside, St. Petersburg, during the reign of the Emperor Paul I. There are two acts.

Music

Prokofiev's Lieutenant Kizhe Suite may be used during scene transitions, as well as in certain scenes. Individual movements and passages from which fragments may be taken are suggested in square brackets with their approximate compact disk times. The exact length of such fragments, or other arrangements of them, should be determined by the individual director.

Design

It is suggested that as far as possible the design should reflect the “absurd” premise of the play, emphasizing — without departing unnecessarily from the historical setting — the grotesque rather than the strictly realistic. Since, for example, a “non-existent” hero “appears” on stage and is eventually accepted by the other characters, objects, buildings, etc. might simply be outlined against their background to give the impression of transparency or insubstantiality.

Programme Note

Although the play is based loosely on historical events, these have been combined with fiction, and the roles of individual characters have often been changed for theatrical purposes. Some of Tynianov's characters have been similarly changed. Kizhe's origin goes back to an anecdote relating to the age of Paul I. In the Russian text of Tynianov's novel, the bureaucratic error is indeed created (as is shown in the play) by a blot falling in the middle of the word for “lieutenants” — causing the copy-clerk to think he has abbreviated it and that its plural ending “ki” is the beginning of a new word. This is then combined with the meaningless emphatic particle “zhe” which follows. Since this is untranslatable into English, it has been changed so as to represent the initial of the next officer on the list.

First Performance

The play opened on 4 November 1993 at Theatre 5 in Kingston, Ontario, directed by Valerie Robertson.

ACT ONE

[Birth of KIZHE: 0.00 — 0.25]

Scene 1

(The curtain opens on the EMPEROR PAUL I of Russia, wearing his wig but in his shirtsleeves, with a scarf round his neck: dozing in front of a window in his armchair, which is mounted on a low platform and protected on one side and at the back by a glass screen. A desk is close to his chair on the unprotected side, with an ink-well and quill pen. Upstage is a large four-poster bed, hidden by a curtain with a door of some kind giving access to upstage centre, i.e. not facing towards the audience. The bed will remain curtained off when it is not in use.

SINIUKHAEV: (In army uniform, coming through the theatre and whispering to the audience in a rather reedy voice.) The Emperor sleeps. The Emperor… (EMPEROR snores loudly) sleeps. I'll have to wait until he wakes up. (Goes up on stage.) Any disturbances are strictly forbidden in the afternoons, when the Emperor's body is struggling with his lunch. Once… when I was still alive… I was playing the oboe in the afternoon. Well I like to play the oboe, you see, even if the other officers in the regiment laugh at me for it… it seems harmless enough, I'm fairly quiet otherwise… my only vice is smoking, and I don't run around after the women like all the others… and my captain told my orderly to put carpenter's glue on the oboe's mouthpiece so I couldn't play it… or talk… or eat… for three whole days. Almost like now. I've no food, no one will listen to me. (Looking hopefully at the audience.) Unless… but no, I suppose not. (EMPEROR snores loudly.) Paul I, Autocrat and Emperor of all the Russians, little father to us all. I suppose I didn't really think I'd find him sleeping. I thought he'd keep at least one eye open, watching over us, making sure we don't get out of line. And putting right those things that are wrong in our lives too. (EMPEROR snores again.) There's something wrong in my life. Or rather, in the lack of it.

EMPEROR: (Crying out.) Mother! Mother, you great whore!

SINIUKHAEV: That's the Empress Catherine he's talking about. Catherine the Great. Well perhaps she did take her role of little mother to her country too seriously.

EMPEROR: Mother!

SINIUKHAEV: It can't be easy for him. Having to wait all those years to come to the throne, that is… after his father was murdered. (A sudden thought.) Oh no, suppose that happens to him too? Suppose someone comes to murder him, before I get a chance to speak to him? Then I'd never be able to… It seems I'm dead, you see… no, really… all because a clerk copied something wrong. He made another mistake too, somehow creating a non-existent person called Kizhe. But the order went in yesterday, so the Emperor must have signed it by now — and the Emperor's orders are like God's commands, he only has to speak and even the winds and the waves obey him. Which means this other man exists and, more to the point, I don't, just like that! It's so sad: struck off the lists in my prime by a bureaucratic error. It's not much fun, being dead. I won't get my pay, for one thing. Once people discover you're dead, there's nothing they can do for you. Or to you, I suppose. They can't punish you for anything, so they just ignore you. That's how I got in here, by telling them I was dead. But then they stop listening to you. If only (looking at the audience) someone would listen!

EMPEROR: Mother! Speak to me!

SINIUKHAEV: He must be dreaming again. They say he always dreams the same dream in the afternoons. I'll just have to wait… (Sits down and nods off.)

EMPEROR: Which one is there with you this time, Mother?!

(The foreground lights, except for one on the Emperor, go down and come up on CATHERINE II, old, fat and ugly, in the four-poster bed with a very handsome young man, PLATON ZUBOV.) CATHERINE: Oh my darling Grigory…

EMPEROR: (Shouting out.) That's not Potiomkin, even I know that!

ZUBOV: I'm not Grigory. I'm Platon.

CATHERINE: (Lovingly.) Of course. My darling Platon. You're all so young, so much alike. No matter, you'll get your reward like all the rest. Only your service, I thought, flagged a little this evening.

ZUBOV: Well I was tired after the day's maneuvers. That's why I could only manage five times rather than seven or eight…

CATHERINE: You weren't with someone else earlier, were you?

ZUBOV: No, of course not. That's ridiculous! Anyway, I bet Potiomkin could never do as well!

CATHERINE: In his prime he could do anything I wanted!

EMPEROR: (Struggling, shouting at her.) Potiomkin was screwing you and you let him screw the country too!

CATHERINE: (Not hearing him, teasing ZUBOV.) Ah, my darling Grigory! I still grieve over his memory.

ZUBOV: (Aside.) As always, I'm in competition with a dead guy! (Coming on to CATHERINE.) But now you have me instead. (Starting to kiss her.) What I won't do for you, my Catherine! Catherine the Great: I adore you.

CATHERINE: (Responding to ZUBOV.) The greatest empress of Russia, yet I had no right to rule at all! A minor German princess, and I'm more Russian than all of them. I rule by my own right! Of course, my feeble-minded husband wasn't Russian either.

EMPEROR: (Furious.) Mother, he was a Romanov, a grandson of Peter the Great, with a genuine claim to the throne, which somehow… expired… when you had him assassinated so you could rule instead. How do you think I felt, waiting, waiting thirty-four years for you to croak? Peter III, my father…

CATHERINE: (Not hearing him, becoming more amorous still.) Peter III, Paul's father, so he thinks: what a disaster he'd have been.

EMPEROR: So he thinks?

CATHERINE: There were guards officers available for service, even then! We don't ask about legitimacy too much in this family. My husband couldn't manage it. He had other preferences.

EMPEROR: So he thinks?

ZUBOV: So Paul, that son of a bi…

CATHERINE: (Darkly threatening.) Son of a what? Watch it.

ZUBOV: (Enjoying himself.) So your son Paul is only the official heir? Then your children, their children, the whole future dynasty of the Romanovs…

EMPEROR: (Horrified.) All of us bastards. Can it be true? And my father, my dear, unfortunate father, whom everyone says I'm so much like…

CATHERINE: Paul and his official father share only a common imbecility!

(EMPEROR moans and shows his anguish.)

ZUBOV: (Turning up the sexuality and becoming excited himself.) What if you made your grandson Alexander your heir instead of Paul? He's popular, a good friend of mine in fact.

EMPEROR: (Terrified.) Then I'm lost, lost.

CATHERINE: (Responding to ZUBOV with mounting sexual excitement until the end of the scene.) Yes, yes!

EMPEROR: That's why she took him away from me, to bring him up herself. (Threatening.) Mother, I'll get you for this, you see if I don't!

CATHERINE: Yes!

EMPEROR: She'll have me killed like my father, and that brat of mine will agree to it!

CATHERINE: That's what I've planned all along. Only Platon, you'll just have to promise me you'll never let my half-wit son Paul… (Climactically.) Ah! Ah! (Dying.) Ah!

ZUBOV: (After a pause.) Dead! (Shouting out.) Help! Help!

(The lights on Catherine and ZUBOV fade.)

VOICE OFF-STAGE: (Echoing ZUBOV.) Help! Help!

(EMPEROR and SINIUKHAEV both start awake.)

VOICE OFF-STAGE: Help!

EMPEROR: Who was that calling “help”? (Seeing SINIUKHAEV.) Who was that?

SINIUKHAEV: (Dumbstruck for a moment.) I… don't know.

EMPEROR: Call the Captain of the Guard!

SINIUKHAEV: B… but…

EMPEROR: At once!

SINIUKHAEV: Oh I suppose. (Moving off slowly.) Not a good time to talk to him anyway. (Stopping to figure it out.) One, he must have signed the order yesterday. Two, therefore I'm dead. And…

EMPEROR: Hurry up!

SINIUKHAEV: Three, I'm scared shitless of him. (Runs off.)

EMPEROR: Who could have been in the garden? Someone plotting against my life? Or a well-wisher come to warn me? No, there aren't too many of those. (Glances out of the window, then spins round and cowers down in his chair.)

(CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD enters, holding a number of papers in one hand. He walks not directly towards the Emperor but in gradual zig-zags.)

EMPEROR: (Teasingly, like a child.) I know that you're there! (CAPTAIN zigs.) And there! (CAPTAIN zags.) And there! (CAPTAIN zigs.) I always know a man by his walk. You're Petrov, aren't you? (CAPTAIN stands still and shakes his head, denying it.) The honest ones come straight ahead, the untrustworthy ones come at me crabwise.

CAPTAIN: (Taking this as his cue, strides straight ahead to a position in front of the EMPEROR's chair.) Your majesty…

EMPEROR: (Commandingly, still sitting with his back to the CAPTAIN.) Who was it?

CAPTAIN: Who, your majesty?

EMPEROR: The man who shouted “help”.

CAPTAIN: I… don't know, your majesty.

EMPEROR: “Help”… what an absurd thing to shout. (A delightful thought:) It couldn't have been my wife the Empress, could it? Someone trying to get rid of her?

CAPTAIN: I don't think…

EMPEROR: No, you're probably right. (Seeing the Captain is silent.) Report!

CAPTAIN: (Standing to attention.) All's well, your majesty!

EMPEROR: No it isn't. (Getting angry.) A man can stroll round the palace garden and shout “help,” and you've no idea who he is? He must be found. Immediately!

CAPTAIN: Yes, your majesty.

(THE EMPEROR flings back his right arm, CAPTAIN puts a paper in his hand.)

CAPTAIN: (Aside.) He's angry. In times of great anger the Emperor never turns to face people.

(EMPEROR reads the paper, flings back his arm again and the CAPTAIN takes the ink-well from the desk and puts it in his hand. The same again for the pen. EMPEROR signs the paper with a flourish, flings back his arm again with the paper, which is taken by the CAPTAIN. The CAPTAIN coughs, indicating there is another paper. EMPEROR flings back his arm again, takes it, signs it, and returns it in the same fashion. CAPTAIN coughs once more, gives EMPEROR another paper in the same way.)

EMPEROR: (Reading.) “Sub-Lieutenant Siniukhaev excluded from the service, for reasons of death by typhus.” This has yesterday's date on it. Why didn't I see it yesterday?

CAPTAIN: W… w… why?

EMPEROR: Why?!

CAPTAIN: It was… it was… (a sudden inspiration) it was Lieutenant Siniukhaev I sent to bring it to you. He… died on the way.

EMPEROR: Hm. Gross dereliction of duty! Have him severely punished. (Reading.) “Sub-Lieutenants Kizhe, Stevens and Azancheev appointed.” Kizhe… Kizhe… (Makes a number of crossings-out on the paper.) I want the guard in front of my room doubled. Assign Lieutenant Kizhe to extra guard duty!

(EMPEROR signs, then flings back his arm with the paper as before. CAPTAIN takes it, then EMPEROR does the same with the ink and pen, which the CAPTAIN barely manages to catch, spluttering himself with ink. Suddenly the EMPEROR spins round in his chair to face the CAPTAIN. He then gets up and takes mincing steps towards the CAPTAIN, sniffs at him suspiciously, and then unexpectedly pinches him on the arm.)

CAPTAIN: Ow!

EMPEROR: You don't know your duty, sir, approaching me from behind like that! (He pinches him again, on the leg.) Oh I know my mother with her lover-boy and adviser Potiomkin made all kinds of changes. I've got rid of most of that already, and I'll knock the Potiomkin spirit out of all of you, you see if I don't! (He pinches the CAPTAIN several times more, in different places, then turns to look at himself in a mirror.) Do you think I have a pug nose?

CAPTAIN: Er… er… no, your majesty.

EMPEROR: They all laugh at me for my pug nose, don't they?

CAPTAIN: Yes, your… That is, no, your majesty.

EMPEROR: It's my wife the Empress, may she be consumed by maggots in the damp emptiness of her double bed! She's the one who tells everyone I have a pug nose, isn't she? Well what are you waiting for? Find the man who shouted “help!”

(CAPTAIN puts down the pen and ink and begins backing out to leave. The EMPEROR unwinds his scarf, begins to rip his shirt, and starts howling in rage.)

CAPTAIN: His even greater anger is beginning… (Leaves.)

[Birth of KIZHE: 0.00 — 0.28]

Scene 2

(The lights go down, and come up as SINIUKHAEV slinks in. The desk with pen and ink is still on stage, but the Emperor's chair and glass sides have gone.)

SINIUKHAEV: Perhaps I can try to speak to him again another day. But where do I go in the meantime?

[Birth of KIZHE: 0.26 — 0.50]

(The sound of men marching — with “left, right, left, right” — is heard.)

SINIUKHAEV: Perhaps they won't notice me if I sneak back in. There must be lots of dead men in the army.

(A detachment of SOLDIERS marches on with the same CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD. Throughout this scene the commands given by the Captain may vary according to the direction from which the soldiers approach and in which they depart.)

CAPTAIN: Detachment, halt! Left face!

(SINIUKHAEV falls in with the soldiers.)

CAPTAIN: The orders for today. The man who cried out “help” in front of the Emperor Paul's window to be found and apprehended at all costs.

SOLDIER: He'll never be found. Who in his right mind would confess to something like that?

CAPTAIN: I suppose not. It wasn't you, was it? You're always hanging around the palace chasing after the women. (SOLDIER is silent.) Well with any luck the Emperor will forget about it. Now: Sub-Lieutenant Kizhe is assigned to extra guard duty immediately.

(A murmuring of voices.)

SOLDIER: Who the hell is Kizhe?

CAPTAIN: Kizhe… Well he's the one… That's right, there is no one of that name. Sub-Lieutenant Kizhe… And he's on guard duty tonight. I should tell the Emperor there's been a mistake. Only then he'll punish me instead. God, what should I do?

SINIUKHAEV: Why not post him anyway? After all, who's to know?

CAPTAIN: I know… we'll just consider that he exists, and post him anyway. The Emperor won't even notice. Now: Sub-Lieutenant Siniukhaev excluded from the service, for reasons of death by typhus.

SINIUKHAEV: B… b… b… but… But I'm Siniukhaev.

CAPTAIN: What?

SINIUKHAEV: I'm Siniukhaev.

CAPTAIN: (Pause.) Insubordination! What do you mean you're Siniukhaev? You're, you're… (looking at him)

SINIUKHAEV: Siniukhaev.

CAPTAIN: Then I have nothing to say to you. You're dead. It says so here.

SINIUKHAEV: (Hastily) It was the copy-clerk. He made two mistakes, about me and about Kizhe. A friend of mine in the same office told me all about it. (Falling out, and about to demonstrate.) You see, it was like this…

CAPTAIN: (About to order him back.) What do you think you're… ?

SINIUKHAEV: If I'm dead, you can't stop me! Here, let me show you. (Turning to one of the soldiers and giving him his hat.) Do you mind?

[Birth of KIZHE: 0.50 — 0.59]

(SINIUKHAEV goes over to the desk, and sits down, acting out the following scene in great haste and confusion.)

SINIUKHAEV: It must have been something like this. The clerk was copying a list, you see, and you know how flustered and confused he always is. All those papers to copy, all those mistakes: and it would mean Siberia for him if didn't get it all done in time. And all the fuss with the new orders saying you can't write “execute” anymore but “fulfill”; not “watch” but “guard”; not “unit” but “detachment.” (Taking a paper and tracings down it to find a name.) He was just about to copy “Major Sokolov, dead of typhus…” when…

VOICE OFF-STAGE: Clerk! Ten minutes!

SINIUKHAEV: (Springs to attention, keeping his finger on the list with his left hand while saluting with his right.) Yes, sir! (Sits down again. His finger slips.) … when his finger slipped to another name on the list, not Sokolov but Siniukhaev: (writes) “dead of typhus.”

[Birth of KIZHE: 0.59 -1.11]

SINIUKHAEV: (Taking a paper and copying from it to another one.) And then he had to copy “Sub-Lieutenants Stevens and Azancheev are appointed.” But since there was one Stevens already, he had to put in his initial, zhe for Zhores: “Zhe Stevens and Azancheev are appointed..” Only according to the Emperor's new orders he had to use the old Russian word for sub-lieutenants, podporuchiki. (Writing.) “Pod-po-ruch-i-ki zhe Stevens…”

VOICE OFF-STAGE: Clerk! Five minutes!

SINIUKHAEV: (Springing to attention and saluting.) Yes, sir! And son of a bitch, now he'd gone and made a blot. (Sits. Reads.) So, not much to recopy though. (Takes a new sheet of paper and reading what he'd written.) So… Podporuch. Blot. He thought he must have abbreviated it. (Writing, and speaking emphatically:) “Pod-po-ruch Kizhe, Stevens and Azancheev are appointed.”

[Birth of KIZHE: 1.32 on, for a few seconds]

CAPTAIN: (Preparing to march the soldiers off.) Right face!

SINIUKHAEV: (Getting up, hastily taking his hat from the soldier, and reverting to his own role.) Don't you see, sir? The clerk just copied it wrong. A nonexistent Kizhe was created and an existent me was destroyed.

CAPTAIN: Exactly. You're dead, Kizhe's alive. (To the soldiers.) By the left…

SINIUKHAEV: B… b… b… but…

CAPTAIN: Are you saying an order can have a mistake in it?

SINIUKHAEV: (Doubtful.) No, of course it can't…

CAPTAIN: An order signed by the Emperor?

SINIUKHAEV: No, an order is always correct.

CAPTAIN: Right, always correct. (Instructing the soldiers.) An order's made up of special words, quite different from human speech. Words with their own life and power. It's not important what they mean. It's not even a matter of whether an order's obeyed or disobeyed. An order by its very existence can change people, streets and regiments, whole cities, even if it isn't carried out.

SINIUKHAEV: Then I really am dead?

CAPTAIN: It says so here, doesn't it? You're dead and Lieutenant Kizhe is alive.

(SINIUKHAEV breaks down and cries, falling to the ground.)

CAPTAIN: (To the other soldiers.) And if the Emperor says Kizhe exists, he exists, and don't you forget it. (Indicating with his arm.) So: make way for Lieutenant Kizhe!

[Birth of KIZHE: 1.32 on, continued]

(SOLDIERS, in some confusion, make a space between them and turn to watch as an imaginary KIZHE marches on to join them. From this point on, the CAPTAIN should act as if totally convinced that KIZHE exists.)

CAPTAIN: (About to give an order to the other soldiers.) Unit…

SINIUKHAEV: (Raising his head.) Shouldn't that be “detachment”?

CAPTAIN: Detachment, by the left, quick march!

(The CAPTAIN marches the SOLDIERS off, with “left, right, left, right.” All of them step over SINIUKHAEV as though he doesn't exist.)

SINIUKHAEV: (Getting up.) So I'm dead, really dead. They just don't make mistakes in things like that. I seem still to be able to move, though (tests this), and talk (makes various sounds, testing) and think (tests by motions of his head and eyes). Well I'm not so sure about that one. There must be something wrong with me, if I'm not properly dead. I wonder if it's illegal to be walking about when you're dead: I'm no better than a common criminal. Perhaps if I just lie down in my room, have a quiet smoke, I'll just gently drift off into heaven above…

[Birth of KIZHE: 2.29 — 2.50]

Scene 3

(SINIUKHAEV trudges back to his room: indicated by a single army bed; a table, on which are his oboe in a case, his pipe in a stand, and a wig-stand with another wig on it; and a rather comical picture of a man, also with wig and pigtail, on the wall. These can all be pushed on from the sides.)

SINIUKHAEV: Ah! (Sits on his bed, takes his pipe.) If you smoke, you feel yourself a real man (acting it out, but without actually filling or lighting the pipe), with the whole process of filling your pipe, packing in the tobacco, drawing in the smoke. (He puts it down again.) It's not the same, somehow. Whoever's seen a dead man smoking a pipe? (Takes the oboe, plays a brief phrase on it — the Kizhe theme from Kizhe's Wedding — but it ends up in a screech. He tries again, with the same result, and then puts it down too. He goes to the table, fondles the pigtail of his spare wig.) And I spent so long curling, braiding and greasing it for tomorrow's parade… But a corpse wearing a pigtail… (Thoughtful.) Perhaps it will be necessary to conceal the fact of my death for a while… I could still have a game of cards with my orderly, if he's finished polishing my ammunition. He might even let me win, if I promise not to beat him for a couple of days: it might cheer me up. Orderly!

(SINIUKHAEV'S ORDERLY comes in, looks round as if no one is there, then lounges on the bed.)

SINIUKHAEV: Orderly, what do you think you're… ? I command you…

(The ORDERLY takes no notice.)

SINIUKHAEV: Dead, of course…

(The voice of a MAJOR is heard from outside.)

MAJOR: Orderly!

(ORDERLY jumps off the bed and springs to attention.)

MAJOR: (Coming in.) Orderly, clear up this room!

(ORDERLY puts the table and all SINIUKHAEV's possessions including his wig onto the bed, while the MAJOR takes the portrait off the wall, looks at it, then throws it on the bed too.)

SINIUKHAEV: (Reacting angrily, but then trailing off.) You can't! That's my father! He's an army surgeon. He once treated Count Neledinsky-Meletsky, who got me my commission. In exchange for a bottle of pills… (Timidly, when the MAJOR takes no notice.) What are you doing?

MAJOR: (Unwillingly.) This room's been reassigned. (About to sneeze, he suddenly takes a handkerchief from the sleeve of SINIUKHAEV, standing beside him, and blows his nose.)

SINIUKHAEV: That's… that's against regulations.

MAJOR: All according to regulations. (Takes out a paper.) “Here: Lieutenant Kizhe to occupy the room of the late Lieutenant Siniukhaev.” (Looks at him.). Your uniform's still good. Take it off.

SINIUKHAEV: What?

MAJOR: Military property: you should take it off and put on one which is no good any more.

SINIUKHAEV: You're right. (Goes to the side of the stage and takes a shabby uniform from a cupboard.)

MAJOR: (Impatiently.) I'd better help. I'm not certain a corpse would know how to take off a uniform properly. Orderly!

(The ORDERLY, who has been lounging, helps the MAJOR to get SINIUKHAEV out of one uniform and into another.)

MAJOR: (When they've finished.) Well?

SINIUKHAEV: (Standing there.) Well? Oh — goodbye, then. (He goes to leave, then returns to take the picture of his father. Looking at it.) Does my father really exist either? Does anything exist? But I should go and tell him. He'll be most upset to know that I'm dead. (Leaves.)

MAJOR: (To orderly.) It seems Lieutenant Kizhe won't need the bed. They've just assigned him an empty room.

(ORDERLY pushes the bed out, and the MAJOR leaves.)

[Birth of KIZHE: 2.50 — 3.22]

Scene 4

(The lights fade and come up again on the EMPEROR in his room, hiding under his table, his teeth chattering. His chair with the glass screens is there as before.)

EMPEROR: (Shouting.) My anger, my great anger… (giving up) has ended. It's always like this. (Crawls out from under the table.) When I'm angry I feel I'm like one of the lions on the stairways in the palace, roaring at everyone. Whole regiments feel my rods on their backs; heads are cut off; soldiers, clerks, even generals and governors, are marched on foot to Siberia. But after a day or so it's over. (Sniffs suspiciously.) There's still the smell of my mother. She had such revolting taste. Luxurious rooms, Indian silks, Chinese porcelain, Dutch stoves, a room of blue glass, just like a brothel! But I fixed all that. And the Roman and Greek medals she loved: I had them all melted down for my other palace, my own castle in St. Petersburg. (Pricks up his ears.) The captain of the guard's coming. Quick! (He runs to his chair, sits down and turns around so his back is to the captain.)

(The CAPTAIN enters with less hesitation this time, goes up to the chair and pokes his head around either side, trying to make the EMPEROR look at him, who, however, keeps turning his head to the other side.)

CAPTAIN: (Aside.) His great wrath has turned to his great fear. Which means the secret police get to work, with people hung up by their hands and tortured in the basement…

EMPEROR: (Aside.) Uncertainty and terror, that's the way to control them. (Suddenly spinning round, trying to be brave.) I'm not afraid of that bitch of a wife of mine, or of my two older sons, although any one of them could follow the example of their merry grandmother and stab me with a pitchfork so as to mount the throne instead of me. I'm not afraid of my ministers, my generals, or any of my revolting subjects (pinches imaginary people) individually. (Timid again.) I'm just afraid of everyone, all together.

CAPTAIN: (Wanting to make his report.) Your majesty…

EMPEROR: In St. Petersburg, I've had my castle specially fortified, of course. Moats and a drawbridge which has to be raised by a chain: it's impregnable. Only… (sniffs again) it's still guarded by guards.

CAPTAIN: (Reassuringly.) Your majesty…

EMPEROR: I don't trust any of you. The only one I can rely on is my imperial favourite, Catherine — well, an unfortunate name, perhaps — Nelidova. I trust her absolutely. And I don't allow any men in that part of the palace anyway. Treachery everywhere. I'm even afraid of my own possessions. (Pointing.) You see those two lanterns up there? Given to me by King Louis XVI of France, when I was traveling there. Only you know what happened to him, don't you? (He indicates with his hand that he was guillotined.) I don't light them, it might give people ideas. And (pointing) the clock's a gift from his wife, Marie Antoinette. “Time conquers love,” it says on it. Only in her case, time conquered her too, rather too rapidly, so I stop time by not winding it up any more.

CAPTAIN: (Uncertain.) Your m…

EMPEROR: (Suddenly aggressive.) What about the man who shouted “help”? Has he been found? You thought I'd forgotten about him, didn't you?

CAPTAIN: Yes, your… that is, no, your majesty.

EMPEROR: So who was he?

CAPTAIN: It was… it was… (with sudden inspiration) it was Lieutenant Kizhe, your majesty.

EMPEROR: And who's he?

CAPTAIN: He… was the officer appointed to guard duty, your majesty.

EMPEROR: And why did he shout it?

CAPTAIN: Wh.. why?

EMPEROR: (Stamping his foot.) Why? I'm listening, sirrah.

CAPTAIN: W… w… w… well… well… Because… because… because he didn't know any better. It seemed a… a good thing to shout.

EMPEROR: Hold an inquiry, have him flogged, and then sent on foot to Siberia!

[Birth of KIZHE: 3.23 — 3.38]

Scene 5

(The lights go down, and the sound of men marching — with “left, right, left, right, detachment halt” — is heard. Lights come up on SOLDIERS, carrying cat-o'-nine-tails, who have halted in front of the same CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD leaving a space for KIZHE between them. There is a whipping-bench or post on stage.)

CAPTAIN: Sub-Lieutenant Kizhe — under arrest!

(SOLDIERS, confused, decide nevertheless to go along with it and take hold of the imaginary KIZHE by either arm, marching him up to the CAPTAIN, who faces him, and tears off his buttons and insignia of rank.)

CAPTAIN: Twenty lashes!

(SOLDIERS as though bind KIZHE's feet and hands to the whipping-bench. One whips him, then nudges another to make a cry, who after a pause does so as though KIZHE is crying out in pain. CAPTAIN counts to twenty, and each time there is an echo from the soldier's voice crying out in pain, intensifying to a high pitch at the end. Finally, the SOLDIERS unbind KIZHE and there is a sound as though of him slumping to the ground.)

CAPTAIN: Under escort — to Siberia!

(The SOLDIERS as though pull KIZHE to his feet, take him by the arms, and march him off with “left, right, left, right.” From now on, they act as though KIZHE exists.)

CAPTAIN: Let that be an example to all of you! (Follows them off.)

[Birth of KIZHE: 3.39 — 4.07]

(SINIUKHAEV trudges onto the stage, still carrying the picture of his father.)

SINIUKHAEV: (Following the others.) Poor Kizhe! It's no fun being sent to Siberia. But better that than dead!

(He is about to follow the soldiers off, when COUNT NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY strides imposingly across the stage. SINIUKHAEV draws back out of his way and salutes from force of habit. NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY doesn't acknowledge him and strides off.)

SINIUKHAEV: The Minister of State, Count Neledinsky-Meletsky. (Suddenly realizing.) Count Neledinsky-Meletsky! He'll remember my father and that bottle of pills. (Starts to rush after him, then turns back.) But no, that's the part of the palace reserved for Madame Nelidova, the Emperor's confidante. He's obviously in a hurry to deal with some important matter of state.

(Lights go down on stage.)

[Romance: 0.00 — 0.53]

Scene 6

(The lights come up on NELIDOVA's room: the curtains having been drawn aside to reveal the bed. NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY has just come in, and NATASHA comes forward to meet him, dressed — as will be NELIDOVA later — as a curly-headed shepherdess.)

NATASHA: Madame Nelidova is just…

(Before she can finish, NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY grabs her and gives her a quick kiss.)

NATASHA: Sir, you shouldn't!

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: Can't you love me, Natasha?

NATASHA: No sir, my mistress wouldn't allow it. And then: I'm in love! With a young officer.

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: Oh-ho! Who is it?

NATASHA: That's my secret. But perhaps… (She purses her lips, about to let him kiss her again, when NELIDOVA enters.)

NELIDOVA: That will do, Natasha.

NATASHA: (Showing herself off.) Don't you think being a shepherdess suits me, madame?

NELIDOVA: You look quite ridiculous, we all do, though I daren't tell Paul that. I liked it better under Catherine. She had us all dressed like amazons, in men's clothes with velvet tails and stars on our nipples.

NATASHA: Well I'm sure that suited you, madame. As for me, I just want to be like everyone else.

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: And the old Empress, Elizabeth, liked brocades and silk, from which unrestrained little nipples would timidly peek out. Those were the days!

NELIDOVA: Don't you have work to do, Natasha?

(NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY winks at NATASHA and blows her a kiss. NATASHA goes to leave, but then decides to go to turn down the bed covers instead: she stays, listening to the conversation.)

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: (To NELIDOVA.) My one and only love! Come to me.

NELIDOVA: I'm not sure I should. I suppose Paul has finally tired of me, but what if he hasn't? The very thought of him finding out about someone else makes my head ache. I could lose it.

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: (Improvising.) “For you, my love, I'd lose my head, as long as you welcome me in your bed.”

NELIDOVA: Oh, more poetry?

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: It's my secret vice.

NELIDOVA: That, and a passion for shepherdesses. (NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY takes her by the waist.) Wait, wait, if you want to seduce the Emperor's very own favourite in his own palace, you have to make it worth my while. I want to know the latest court gossip. What's this I've been hearing about a conspiracy?

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: No truth in it whatsoever! Alexander would never go against his father. But I have discovered who it was who shouted “help” underneath the Emperor's window.

(NATASHA pricks up her ears.)

NELIDOVA and NATASHA (together): Oh really?

NELIDOVA: Tell us.

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: His name's Lieutenant Kizhe.

NATASHA: Kizhe…

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: He's been sent to Siberia.

(NATASHA faints.)

NELIDOVA: Oh the stupid girl.

(NELIDOVA and NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY fuss over NATASHA, who soon comes round.)

NATASHA: I'm sorry, Madame. But you see, Lieutenant… (pausing to remember the name) Kizhe is my lover.

NELIDOVA and NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY (together): Your lover!

[Romance: 0.00 — 0.53 or more may be played softly as background music.]

NATASHA: Well it was like this. This young officer… I didn't know his name until now. Kizhe, you say it was? Ever so handsome. He kept sending me letters, and then one afternoon I'd arranged to meet him. Only you wouldn't let me leave, madame. And oh it was so crazily irresponsible of him, he must be so much in love with me, but he came and stood below the window and kept making signs at me. He can't have realized he was right below the Emperor's window too, and of course if he'd been caught! So I waved back and made a face at him (demonstrates), trying to say (clenching her teeth) “Go away!”, but the poor soul must have thought I hated him, I've never seen such despair. He started weeping, crying out “help.”

NELIDOVA: (Laughing, imitating his call.) Help! Help!

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: So that was what the Emperor heard. “Help, help, he cried, under her window; my dearest, she answered, you've got to go!”

(NELIDOVA sighs impatiently.)

NATASHA: Well I had to do something. So I pointed down and flattened my nose with my finger (demonstrates), trying to make a pug nose just like the Emperor's. And when he understood he was horrified and made off straight away. I haven't seen him since. Kizhe, you say his name was? And now (sobbing) he's been sent to Siberia, and all because of me! How much he must love me!

NELEDINKSY-MELETSKY: So run along now, Natasha.

(NATASHA leaves unwillingly.)

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: So have I earned my reward?

NELIDOVA: Yes. As long as you look after me when Paul's no longer around.

(They go towards the bed as the lights go down.)

[Romance: 1.40 on. The EMPEROR should appear with the change of theme at 1.57.]

Scene 7

(The EMPEROR creeps stealthily along a corridor — for which an aisle of the theatre may be used — trying to remain unobserved by a GUARD, who follows him in turn with his head and then, as the EMPEROR turns round to catch him watching him, quickly faces the front again.)

EMPEROR: I've added two wings since my mother had this palace built. (Describing with his hands.) Rounded things off a bit… like two cat's paws playing with a mouse between them. I like to play with things between my hands too. One wing just for Catherine Nelidova, my imperial favourite, and her ladies-in-waiting, and the other… well I'm keeping it empty so there'll be no one there who can harm me. Actually, I haven't graced my Catherine with my favours for a while. I'm getting a bit tired of her, to tell the truth. There's this new possibility… a little more… (describes with his hands) round. But there have been good times with Katya none the less. She has spirit too: I like people to show their metal and stand up to me. The last time (giggles) she actually threw her slipper at me.

(The EMPEROR goes up onto the stage, where the curtain is once more hiding the four-poster bed. He goes to the door in the curtain at stage centre, avoiding the area directly in front. From behind the curtain can be heard the vigorous squeaking of a mattress.)

EMPEROR: (Knocking on the door.) Katya, dear Katya…

(There's a soft shriek and the squeaking mattress is suddenly silent.)

EMPEROR: (Knocks again.) Katya, it's your Pavlushka…

NELIDOVA: (From inside, after a pause.) Just a moment…

EMPEROR: (Waiting.) They say that Potiomkin used to creep to visit my mother just like this. That memory was the first I had to eradicate. They called him the great Potiomkin, not only my mother's lover but her most trusted minister. I had his remains scattered to the winds, and his grave covered over. Oh I've knocked the Potiomkin spirit out of everyone all right! (Giggling.) I even had my father Peter exhumed from his commoner's grave and buried again in his rightful place of honour, beside Catherine herself. She'd turn in her grave if she knew. Fancy that: to turn in your grave and suddenly find yourself facing the husband you'd had done in with a pitchfork! Everything she did, I've managed to undo… Including the women's dresses. Their style, that is. Curly-headed shepherdesses, that's the way I like them. More to undo before you get to…

NELIDOVA: (From inside.) Come in, my love.

EMPEROR: Just a few minutes' relaxation in my busy, care-filled day! (Goes into the room through the curtain, which closes behind him.)

[Romance: 2.38 — 2.48]

(A few moments later the curtain opens again and the EMPEROR flies out, his wig askew, and he is followed by a lady's slipper flung at his head.)

EMPEROR: (Laughing.) Just like it was the last time! It's so much fun. (Suddenly realizing.) Only the last time she threw her slipper at me was after I'd shown her my royal… favours. (Angry.) She wouldn't even listen to me, what do you think of that? The time for throwing slippers is long past! It's definitely time for a new favourite! (Creeps away.)

[Romance: 2.48 — 3.14]

Scene 8

(The lights go down and come up again on NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY in the area in front of the bed, which is still curtained off. He is seated in an arm-chair smoking casually, while NATASHA, still crying, is sitting on his knee: he obviously doing what he can to console her. NELIDOVA comes in from behind the curtain stage left with her clothes in some disarray and holding her other slipper in her hand. NATASHA gives a little shriek and runs off.)

NELIDOVA: Now look what's happened! Just when I might have regained his affections I have to pretend I'm angry at him and drive him away. It would have been a disaster if he'd found you here with me.

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: Well perhaps we won't have to worry about him too much longer.

NELIDOVA: Oh?

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: “If life at the court seems increasingly strange, they all start suggesting there could be a change.”

NELIDOVA: That's easy enough for you to say. Minister of Court Affairs, Minister for the Army, Minister of State: your rise has been phenomenal.

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: And while Paul's around, my fall could be equally so. (Putting his arm round her.) I thought you never found the Emperor entirely satisfactory anyway.

NELIDOVA: Well perhaps. But there are still some advantages to being the Emperor's favourite. There are certain things a woman doesn't mind faking as long as the presents are coming in.

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: (Amorously.) “With me you'll never have to fake it. Just jump into bed, lie back and take it.”

NELIDOVA: (Pushing him away.) No, I don't feel like it any more. And what were you doing with Natasha while I was with Paul: just drying her tears? It's high time she got married.

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: What if I fixed that for you?

NELIDOVA: With the young lieutenant? How could you?

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: Leave it to me.

NELIDOVA: I'd be in your debt.

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: I know. All I have to do is wait until the Emperor's mood changes again. No problem. “If her lover's been transfered to Siberia, we'll just have to wait…” (while NELIDOVA waits expectantly) “or the Emperor will have hysteria.”

(NELIDOVA tries to be amused as they embrace.)

[Romance: 3.14 — 3.50]

Scene 9

(The lights go down and come up again on SINIUKHAEV in a single hospital bed, attached to which is a huge sign with a temperature graph showing a steep descent and then an absolutely flat line, and the words Diagnosis: Mors occasionalis, accidental death. FIRST HOSPITAL ORDERLY is lolling in a chair, showing no interest.)

SINIUKHAEV: (Explaining to the orderly.) At least my father has attempted to help. He put me in here after I'd confessed to him that I was no longer alive. Only the doctors don't know how to treat me. They nearly killed me with leeches trying to revive me. It didn't work, I'm still dead. So my father made me write a petition to be reinstated, and he took it himself to Count Neledinsky-Meletsky. The count asked all kinds of questions about me: when my death occurred, why my signature on the petition was illegible — well what can you expect from a dead man? my hand trembled of course — and what they had done with my corpse in the meantime. A very able and meticulous man, the Count Neledinsky-Meletsky: this rule about anyone entering hospital having to pay for his funeral in advance: how many people would have such foresight? My father said the Count would definitely pass on my petition to the Emperor. And if the Emperor commands it, I'll come alive again, just like that. (Looks round him.) Too bad they don't feed the dead here, but at least the hospital's better than roaming the streets.

(SECOND HOSPITAL ORDERLY enters, pulling SINIUKHAEV's sheets from underneath him so that he rolls onto the floor.)

SECOND ORDERLY: (Reading a paper.) “The petition from the late lieutenant Siniukhaev, excluded from the service for reasons of death: denied, for the same reason.”

(FIRST ORDERLY springs up, and the two of them take a sheet, put it over SINIUKHAEV, and carry him off, struggling wildly, by his arms and legs.)

FIRST ORDERLY: To the morgue!

End of Act One

ACT TWO

[Romance: 3.15 — 4.22]

Scene 10

(The lights come up on the EMPEROR sitting at his desk and looking over a letter he has just written.)

EMPEROR: Exactness and complete obedience to orders, that's the way to get rid of the treachery and desolation that surround me. Executive power, that's me, and an enormous bureaucracy to make sure they all pay their taxes properly! No muddles of any kind: how can there possibly be any with a system like ours?! (Calling out an order.) Call Count Neledinsky-Meletsky! (Reading the letter.) “Sir, Count Neledinsky-Meletsky. I am astonished that holding general's rank you don't know the regulations, having seen fit to send to me personally the petition of the deceased Lieutenant Siniukhaev when it should have been sent first to the headquarters of the regiment to which he formerly belonged, rather than troubling me with such a petition.”

(COUNT NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY enters, unnoticed by the Emperor.)

EMPEROR: “Please ensure that the next officer who dies follows the prescribed regulations and, in addition, signs any petition legibly.” Well that should be clear enough. “Nevertheless, I remain favourably disposed to you.” (Signs with a flourish.) “Paul.”

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: “Favourably”? I thought by passing on the petition I'd impress him with my zeal, but it seems I've slipped from “most favourably” to only “favourably.”

(NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY moves towards the EMPEROR, who suddenly turns round, afraid. The EMPEROR then thrusts the letter towards him. NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY doesn't take it.)

EMPEROR: (Collapsing into his seat, pitiful again.) Why… don't they love me? (He puts the letter away, and during the course of the scene makes a paper airplane of it.)

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: Your majesty?

EMPEROR: All I want is to be loved. But whatever I do, no one likes me. I've even tried playing practical jokes on them — like offering them a chair and then pulling it out from under them — only they don't laugh, they just sit on the floor staring gloomily. At times I feel this palace is just empty.

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: You've got rid of everyone. There aren't too many left.

EMPEROR: There's my wife, isn't there? — I don't seem able to get rid of her. (Stamping his foot.) And I want people around me to rule over! I'm Catherine's son, aren't I? And my father's son? Well aren't I?

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: (Reassuring.) Of course, your majesty!

EMPEROR: I try to be just towards them all, and where does it get me? If I do something wrong, they condemn me for it; if I do something right, they hate me all the more. (Suddenly.) What's happened to the box?

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: What box, your majesty?

EMPEROR: The box I had put in front of the palace for complaints. I'm the father to my people: shouldn't the people be able to write to their father? But it's two months and not a single letter. When did you last check?

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: This morning…

EMPEROR: And was there anything there?

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: Only one unimportant letter, your majesty.

EMPEROR: Read it!

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: I don't… I haven't… It was very unimportant.

EMPEROR: Read it!

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: (Takes out a letter and reads it.) “Fuck you, you pug-nosed daddy!”

EMPEROR: (Furious, and feeling his nose.) Pug-nosed daddy, pug-nosed daddy, I'll give them pug-nosed daddy. Have the box removed, and whoever wrote it: send him to Siberia! Have the guards doubled everywhere in the Empire! (Calming down, genuinely puzzled.) Why don't they love me? What have I done to them? I make laws about how the serfs should be treated, to try to improve things for them, and… (trailing away)

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: (Aside.) He thinks the aristocracy will be grateful to him for supporting their revolting serfs.

EMPEROR: I give the soldiers better rations…

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: (Aside.) And send their officers to Siberia. (Aloud.) The trip you made across Russia, your majesty, that was very successful.

EMPEROR: They didn't respect me! All they wanted was for me to leave them in peace. One governor had bridges specially built, just so I could cross them: prettying up everything just as they did to deceive my mother. I sent him to Siberia too. I wanted to see things as they were! I even drank their water with them right out of the Volga. Sent a young village lad to get it from the middle, so it wouldn't have all the shit in it from the sewage on the banks. But (screwing up his face) I didn't know some old fart of a peasant had just relieved himself sitting over the side of the very bridge they'd built for me. All I got was shit in my face. (NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY laughs.) You think that's funny?!

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: I was laughing at something else, your majesty.

EMPEROR: I hope it will make me laugh, too.

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: (After a pause.) Well the man who shouted “help” under your window, Lieutenant Kizhe…

EMPEROR: I sent him to Siberia!

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: It was all because of an amorous intrigue. He'd been courting one of Catherine Nelidova's ladies-in-waiting, a silly girl like all of them, but harmless enough. He was standing in front of her window, and in front of yours too, of course. Knowing he might disturb your rest in the afternoon, she tried to indicate to him he should show more respect. Only he thought her polite gestures to go away meant she didn't like him, and he shouted out “help” in despair. When he understood the enormity of what he'd done, he took off, went into a decline and almost died from his shame.

(Silence. Then the EMPEROR makes a sound that could be either a grunt or the beginning of a laugh. He repeats this, while NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY looks on expectantly. Eventually the grunts turn into guffaws of laughter.)

EMPEROR: (Giggling now.) And I thought he was plotting against me, and had him sent to Siberia! Serve him right, the fool, just for a woman. (Gets up and strides round the room. In a good mood, he starts singing the third and fourth lines of the Russian song “Katiusha”.) “And she sang of the one she thought did love her;…”

EMPEROR and NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY (who joins in): “Of the one who lay closest to her…”

(The EMPEROR suddenly stops singing, while NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY finishes with the final word.)

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: “… heart.” (Uncertain.) Your majesty?

EMPEROR: Paper! (NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY hands it to him.) Pen! (NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY hands it. The EMPEROR writes, reading aloud at the same time.) “Sub-Lieutenant Kizhe, exiled to Siberia, to be returned from Siberia, promoted full Lieutenant…”

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: Such a silly girl, your majesty.

EMPEROR: (With great delight.) “and married to the lady-in-waiting.”

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: (As he leaves.) “Such is the life of Lieutenant Kizhe… Married after he'd been sent away.”

EMPEROR: Don't do that. (Throws the paper airplane at him.)

[Birth of Kizhe: 0.26 — 0.50]

Scene 11

(The lights go down and come up again on a bare stage. The CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD and a SOLDIER — with others if actors are available — escorting the imaginary LIEUTENANT KIZHE march in. “Left, right, left, right” as before. The SOLDIER then carries out the CAPTAIN's orders, as though KIZHE were actually there.)

CAPTAIN: Prisoner and escort — halt! Right face! Order arms! Stand at ease! Easy! Escort: secure the prisoner's feet. (After the SOLDIER has done so.) Inform the post-house superintendent that we'll need a secure room for the prisoner. I'll make the inspection while you do it.

SOLDIER: Sir! (Exits.)

[KIZHE's Wedding: 1.11 — 1.32]

(The CAPTAIN inspects KIZHE, walking round him and looking at him carefully, even prodding him and as though correcting an item of clothing. He also — like the EMPEROR — takes the opportunity to pinch him slyly. The SOLDIER returns with the POST-HOUSE SUPERINTENDENT. He is a peasant and has seen it all.)

SUPERINTENDENT: Where is he, then?

CAPTAIN: What do you mean, where is he? Right here.

SUPERINTENDENT: I don't see him.

CAPTAIN: A very important prisoner on his way to Siberia. The Emperor's orders. We reckon he's a particularly desperate convict.

SUPERINTENDENT: (Walking around the imaginary KIZHE, looking at him.) A queer looking bastard, isn't he?

CAPTAIN: None of our business what he looks like. We just follow orders.

SUPERINTENDENT: The Emperor's orders. That's all right, then. Down the corridor to the left.

CAPTAIN: Escort: fall in! Prepare to remove the prisoner. Prisoner and escort: attention! Right face! Quick march!

[Birth of KIZHE: 3.23 — 3.39]

(The SOLDIER marches off with the invisible KIZHE, with “left, right, left, right,” while the CAPTAIN and SUPERINTENDENT watch their departure.)

CAPTAIN: He doesn't give us much trouble. Doesn't even clank his chains.

SUPERINTENDENT: You're from St. Petersburg, then? It's a long way, on foot.

CAPTAIN: Right across Russia. A well-travelled road, though. All the convicts pass this way, by the grace of the Emperor.

SUPERINTENDENT: And who would the Emperor be now, then?

CAPTAIN: Sh! Paul Petrovich, of course.

SUPERINTENDENT: Have you ever seen him?

CAPTAIN: I've seen him. Why do you ask?

SUPERINTENDENT: I don't know. Everyone's always talking about the Emperor, but no one really knows who he is. Perhaps they only say there's an Emperor and he doesn't really exist.

CAPTAIN: There is one, all right. But you know what? (Looking around him timidly, then whispering.) They've got the wrong one. He's not Peter III's son. They've put someone else in his place.

(The SOLDIER returns hurriedly, saluting.)

SOLDIER: A dispatch from St. Petersburg, sir! (Hands it to the CAPTAIN.)

CAPTAIN: (Reads.) “Sub-Lieutenant Kizhe, exiled to Siberia, to be returned from Siberia, promoted full Lieutenant, and married…” to a lady-in-waiting. I knew he was an important man, what did I tell you? Fetch him at once!

[KIZHE's Wedding: 0.18 — 0.42]

(SOLDIER does so, returning with the imaginary KIZHE.)

CAPTAIN: (Saluting KIZHE.) Sir, we have new orders from the Emperor. You are to be returned to St. Petersburg. This way please, sir. Escort, why is he in shackles? Undo them at once. (SOLDIER does so.) Superintendent, we need the fastest horses, and a carriage…

SUPERINTENDENT: Only the finest for such a gentleman, sir.

CAPTAIN: (To KIZHE.) I beg you for forgiveness, sir, I was only following orders. We'll have you back in the capital in no time! (To the SOLDIER.) To the stables! Quick march!

(They march away, with “left, right, left, right.”)

[Birth of Kizhe: 2.07 — 2.30]

Scene 12

(The lights go down, and come up again as SINIUKHAEV runs in: in rags with food stains all over them and covered with rotting fruit and vegetables. He stops, sighs, and sits down.)

SINIUKHAEV: (After a moment.) The shopkeepers all hate me. I've been all over since I escaped from the morgue, but I always end up back in St. Petersburg. The kids all make fun of me. “Come back yesterday,” they shout at me. I daren't look anyone in the face: I have to judge them all by their smell. You can always tell if it's a peasant. The peasants always smell of wind. I probably do too by now. I have to sleep on the street, or under a tree if the dogs haven't got to it first, and that's not pleasant, I can tell you. Still, it's a great day. My former fellow officer Kizhe is getting married. He's become famous since he got back from Siberia. Everyone knows how he was the man who shouted “help” under the Emperor's window. Here he comes now with his blushing bride.

[KIZHE's Wedding: 0.00 — 2.42, or less]

(The scene of KIZHE's wedding to NATASHA is performed to Prokofiev's wedding music, without words, while SINIUKHAEV just watches. NATASHA, wearing a wedding crown, is very obviously pregnant: SINIUKHAEV looks at her belly in amazement. The procession eventually stops before the PRIEST. NATASHA doesn't look at KIZHE until after she has been married, then does a double-take when she finds he's invisible. She starts to faint, but suddenly she looks down at her belly, thinks better of it, and kisses KIZHE passionately instead. NELIDOVA is also there, plus NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY and other guests if actors are available: everyone on stage, in fact, except for the EMPEROR. Pomp and ceremony, etc., as determined by the individual actors. After they all go off, there is the crying of a new-born child. The PRIEST comes running back.)

PRIEST: Lieutenant Kizhe has a son! Another life has come into the world: isn't it marvelous? (Leaves.)

SINIUKHAEV: Some come, and some… (suddenly mournful) go. (About to leave, but adding as an afterthought.) He's certain to be the spitting image of his father. We need men like that now that we're at war again. (Leaves.)

[Birth of Kizhe: 1.11 — 1.23]

Scene 13

(The lights go down and come up again on the EMPEROR in his armchair: he is dreaming again. CATHERINE II and ZUBOV stride on, both in their best court costumes.)

ZUBOV: (Brandishing an imaginary sword.) So it's war!

CATHERINE: War? Who this time?

EMPEROR: Only the French, Mother.

ZUBOV: With the French. Some young whipper-snapper called Napoleon.

CATHERINE: With the French! That's nothing less than a disaster!

ZUBOV: But it means they need men like me to fight! All the bravest ones who were in exile — we've been recalled to active service.

EMPEROR: That was a good order. That's what the army's for, to fight the country's enemies. As long as they're kept busy away from the capital, they don't worry about me here in my castle. They get killed, I give them lots of medals, and everyone's happy.

CATHERINE: I don't approve of revolutions like the one in France. It could be dangerous for the whole world if the masses start overthrowing their monarchs.

ZUBOV: (Insinuating.) Only it's time to throw away some of the useless ones…

CATHERINE: By palace revolutions, not by the rabble.

EMPEROR: But the people protect me, Mother.

ZUBOV: (Laughing.) No fear of a revolution ever happening in Russia! Half the people don't even know who the Emperor is.

EMPEROR: They think of me as a god! Besides, I've made myself omnipotent in my castle with its triple line of walls.

CATHERINE: We need to get rid of Paul so my grandson Alexander can set the country on its feet again.

EMPEROR: Oh why did I ever have children?

ZUBOV: Alexander will take care of Napoleon all right, once we put him on the throne.

(CATHERINE and ZUBOV leave, and the EMPEROR wakes up.)

EMPEROR: Napoleon! There's a rumour he's yet another illegitimate son of my mother, whom she sent away to be educated in France. They say he's the Antichrist, but all he is is another bastard who wants to take my place. (Picks up some letters from his desk.) More anonymous letters, all telling me there's a plot against my life, right here in the castle. (Calling out.) Captain of the Guard! There's no one I can trust. They're all traitors: my guards most of all.

CAPTAIN: (Coming in.) Your majesty?

EMPEROR: First of all, arrest my son Alexander.

CAPTAIN: On what charge?

EMPEROR: For looking too much like my mother. [And you — you look too much like… Oh never mind, I was dreaming. I don't arrest people because I dream about them.] Now, who's your best officer? CAPTAIN: The bravest one, your majesty? The most valorous in battle?

EMPEROR: (Shuddering.) No, no that sort kill people. The one who, who…

CAPTAIN: Who makes the best impression on parade?

EMPEROR: No, that sort have ambition and become too powerful. The one who, who…

CAPTAIN: Who is most loved by his men?

EMPEROR: (Shudders.) No, no that sort make me most nervous of all. The one who, who…

CAPTAIN: Who causes least trouble?

EMPEROR: Ah! Yes, that's exactly what I mean.

CAPTAIN: Then I would have to say Captain Kizhe. Nothing wrong's ever been noted about him. A model husband and father, never gets drunk, never gets out of line, always keeps his nose clean. Of course, he's absent most of the time…

EMPEROR: Kizhe, of course. I'd forgotten about him. I thought he was a lieutenant?

CAPTAIN: You promoted him again some time ago, your majesty.

EMPEROR: Did I? Well if he's as good as you say he is, he deserves another promotion. Tell the chief of staff he's to be made Colonel Kizhe immediately.

[Troika: 0.00 — 0.25]

Scene 14

(Lights go down and come up again on NATASHA in the four-poster bed with her LOVER: kisses and caresses as appropriate.)

NATASHA: Oh what a fortunate woman I am! An adorable son who's getting bigger every day, a warm and convenient double bed, and a lover… or two… or three. And the Count Neledinsky-Meletsky's very good to me. Do all the colonels' wives have lovers?

LOVER: Most of them, when their husbands are away on their campaigns.

NATASHA: My husband's away all the time, isn't that lucky? He's done well in his career though, so we're never short of money. He commands a regiment now.

LOVER: Yes, mine. He'd have me executed if he caught me here with you. But to tell you the truth, we never see him either. He leaves everything to his adjutant. He's too important to be bothered with the likes of us. Probably likes to seem mysterious. It keeps us on our toes: we never know when he might turn up suddenly to make an inspection of our weapons.

NATASHA: I'm sure yours is always at the ready. (Suddenly.) What was that?

LOVER: What?

NATASHA: I thought I heard something. My god, you don't think he might be on his way home, do you?

LOVER: He mustn't find me!

NATASHA: Quick!

[Troika: 0.28 — 2.36, or less]

(During the music, NATASHA and her LOVER rush around the stage in a panic, trying to get him dressed, trying various hiding places, and eventually getting him out of the window — she throws his remaining clothes after him — before the triumphant finale of the music at 2.22. At this point, NATASHA goes to the door, flings it open, and holds it for KIZHE to come in. When the music ends and no one is there, she throws down her hands and then bursts out laughing.)

NATASHA: Come in, my darling husband!

[Troika: 0.00 — 0.27]

Scene 15

(The lights go down, and come up again on SINIUKHAEV and, elsewhere, a group of ARISTOCRATS milling around in the Winter Garden in St. Petersburg.)

SINIUKHAEV: I wish I were dead. Properly dead, that is. I used to love the Winter Garden here, it was my favourite place in St. Petersburg — despite the Emperor's palace just over there surrounded by its moat and guards. But what's the use of being dead if… (bumping into a GENTLEMAN, who simply picks him up and moves him out of the way) if… it's just the same as being alive, only worse? Kizhe is the lucky one. He gets the best of both worlds, while I get the worst.

FIRST GENTLEMAN: Have you heard? Kizhe's finally been promoted to general.

FIRST LADY: Has he been given a division to command?

FIRST GENTLEMAN: Not yet. The Emperor wants to keep him for some special duties of his own.

SINIUKHAEV: He's famous now, all because of shouting “help” in front of the Emperor's window. Everyone's talking about him.

SECOND GENTLEMAN: He's been granted an estate with a thousand serfs.

SECOND LADY: I wish I were married to someone like that. What I could do with a thousand serfs!

FIRST GENTLEMAN: Do you remember, we met him once, at the reception given by Count Bennigsen?

FIRST LADY: He was so handsome, so romantic!

SECOND GENTLEMAN: I was in his regiment during the Swiss campaign. Never saw him though because he was always out in front, leading his men into battle. One of the bravest officers we've ever had.

SECOND LADY: How many medals has he won?

SECOND GENTLEMAN: Thousands of them. They cover not only his chest, they come right down to his knees.

FIRST GENTLEMAN: He was spending a lot of time with Emilia Sandunova. Until his wife found out about it…

FIRST LADY: Isn't she his cousin? He is related to the Naryshkin family.

FIRST GENTLEMAN: No. General Kizhe is an exile from France. His father was beheaded by the rabble in Toulon. He 's the one to fight Napoleon.

SINIUKHAEV: And his wife's pregnant again. They have three children already. You wonder how he manages it.

(The EMPEROR appears at the side of the stage, sniffing suspiciously at the ARISTOCRATS, who hastily fall silent and drop to their knees. SINIUKHAEV remains standing.)

EMPEROR: (In annoyance.) They're not doing it the same way any more. They fall to their knees too hastily. As though they all think I'm reigning too fast. (Seeing SINIUKHAEV.) And you: why didn't you drop to your knees?

SINIUKHAEV: I'm dead, your majesty.

EMPEROR: You're dead? That's all right then.

SINIUKHAEV: But if I could talk to you for a moment…

EMPEROR: I don't talk to the dead.

(The EMPEROR leaves, and the ARISTOCRATS get up.)

FIRST GENTLEMAN: The pug-nosed daddy isn't long for this world. Don't tell anyone else, but there's a plot to overthrow him.

FIRST LADY: I've heard the same thing from all my friends. Everyone knows about it. They say even his son Alexander is in agreement.

SECOND GENTLEMAN: Don't tell anyone, but Alexander may be willing to see his father deposed, as long as he's looked after in his old age.

SECOND LADY: It's necessary, to save Russia. But I thought Alexander didn't want to become Emperor?

SECOND GENTLEMAN: He doesn't really, but he has no choice unless he wants to sacrifice millions of his countrymen to the caprices and follies of one man. But he can't make up his mind. He's afraid for his mother the Empress and the imperial family. There's no knowing what Paul might do in one of his rages.

SINIUKHAEV: I feel sorry for the Emperor. He's tried, in his own way. And some of the soldiers don't mind him: they rather enjoy seeing their officers disgraced and sent to Siberia.

(Different VOICES are heard from off-stage, repeating one after the other.)

VOICES: The Emperor sleeps! The Emperor sleeps! The Emperor sleeps!

SINIUKHAEV: So now the whole city shuts up shop. Everyone goes home, the shops close their doors, the peasants from the villages put out their bonfires and settle down for the night. Peace at last. But unfortunately, the Emperor has the habit of waking up again. Now perhaps… (Runs off.)

[The Burial of Kizhe: 0.00 — 0.31]

Scene 16

(The lights go down and come up again on the EMPEROR now in the four-poster bed. The room is only dimly lit by a single candle. The EMPEROR starts awake. SINIUKHAEV comes in.)

SINIUKHAEV: (Whispering to the audience.) The Emperor… no longer sleeps.

VOICES: (Echoing SINIUKHAEV.) The Emperor no longer sleeps! The Emperor no longer sleeps!

EMPEROR: (Terrified.) Where am I? (He springs out of bed, in his underwear.)

SINIUKHAEV: (Gathering up courage.) Your majesty, if I could just have a word…

EMPEROR: Fetch me the Minister of State.

SINIUKHAEV: B… b… b… but…

EMPEROR: (Emphatic.) Fetch me the Minister of State!

SINIUKHAEV: (Resigned.) Yes, your majesty.

(SINIUKHAEV leaves. The EMPEROR goes round lighting more candles.)

EMPEROR: If only I could hide from them all. I should be safe here in my castle, they've raised the drawbridge for the night, but there's still too much room for conspiracy to hide in. I need a smaller room, where it's safer. But then people would notice and think I'm afraid. (Seizing a snuff-box, and sniffing.) Perhaps I could hide in a snuff-box.

(NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY enters. The EMPEROR immediately goes up to him and sniffs him too, then pinches him, catching him unawares.)

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: Ow!

EMPEROR: You're a fool! They're all fools! There's a conspiracy against me.

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: That's impossible, your majesty. There can't be a conspiracy against you unless I belong to it. “Against the Emperor there can't be a plot, unless I'm one…”

EMPEROR: (Finishing it.) “And that you're not!”- are you? (NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY says nothing.) None the less, it's necessary…

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: What's necessary?

EMPEROR: (Tapping on the snuff-box he's still holding.) It's necessary… It's necessary… Oh how can I remember? — something's necessary! Perhaps I wanted to behead my wife, the Empress?

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: I don't think that would be wise, your majesty.

EMPEROR: (Disappointed.) Perhaps not. Just have the door bolted permanently (pointing to it), so the hag can't get in here and beg me to love her as I used to in the old days. To be honest, I can't remember that either. Now what was it? It's necessary… it's necessary… (suddenly remembering) to have by me a simple, honest man, without ambition, who'd owe everything to me. And get rid of all the rest!

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: Including me, your majesty?

EMPEROR: Of course including you! You're so trustworthy I don't trust you. Get me… what's his name?… Kizhe. Lieutenant… Captain… Colonel… General… General Kizhe!

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: Kizhe?

EMPEROR: He's an honest man. Never begs for land from me, never tries to get himself a higher position through some relative or other. Never makes himself out to be more important than he is. (Chuckling.) I forget: wasn't there some love affair involved somewhere?

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: He once shouted out “help” under your window, because of a passion for one of the ladies-in-waiting.

EMPEROR: Yes, and she later became his wife, poor fellow. How I hate all wives! Yes, I remember it all now. I need someone who can call out “help” at the right moment. I'll give him the empty wing of my palace. Have him report to me at once! In an hour's time.

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: It's the middle of the night, your majesty.

EMPEROR: Make it half an hour then, he should be able to travel faster.

NELEDINKSY-MELETSKY: (After a pause.) He's fallen dangerously ill, your majesty.

EMPEROR: Dangerously ill?

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: Didn't you know?

EMPEROR: (Advances towards NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY and takes hold of one of his buttons. Very upset.) Then stick him in the hospital and cure him. And if he's not cured (threateningly), then… then… (he twists the button, which comes off in his hand.)

(NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY sighs and shakes his head.)

[The Burial of Kizhe: 0.32 — 1.21]

Scene 17

(The lights go down and come up again on SINIUKHAEV, mourning.)

SINIUKHAEV: The Emperor's sent his chamberlain every day to enquire about the health of Kizhe. Each time he found the doctors fussing about, doing all they could. But it was useless. (Sobbing.) My poor friend Kizhe! He's… he's… dead!

[The Burial of Kizhe: starting at 1.22, as necessary]

(KIZHE's funeral takes place without words, to the sound of Prokofiev's music. MOURNER helps NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY to carry KIZHE's coffin, covered with a flag and loaded down with medals. This is followed by NATASHA, crying and very pregnant again, with the EMPEROR. Other MOURNERS as available come behind. Everyone — except SINIUKHAEV — in resplendent uniforms or dresses. The coffin is finally lowered into the grave.)

MOURNER: (Surprised that the coffin is so light.) He must have lost a lot of weight with his illness.

EMPEROR: (Despairing.) My best people are dying! Sic transit gloria mundi! (All leave, except for SINIUKHAEV.)

SINIUKHAEV: So I'm still here. Dead, but still here. Publicly I've just disappeared from view. Even when I was alive, it was like that. A non-entity, that's me. Whereas General Kizhe, that was a man for you. Did everything possible in life. Amorous adventures when he was young, then punishment and exile, then the years of service, a family, the unexpected favour of the Emperor and the envy of other courtiers. (Taking a newspaper.) He's listed here of course, with all his honours, in the “St. Petersburg Necrology.” And he's bound to be mentioned by the future historians of our country. But you won't find my name in the “St. Petersburg Necrology.” Nobody thought my death was important. There is one death, though, that everybody's thinking about…

(FIRST LADY AND SECOND LADY cross the stage, walking together as before.)

SECOND LADY: I heard Alexander has finally agreed to the plot against the Emperor. The idea is for Paul to abdicate in favour of his son.

FIRST LADY: Yes, I know. Alexander plans to let his father continue to live in his palace, so he can walk and ride in the Winter Garden every day.

SECOND LADY: If he's not murdered first!

(FIRST LADY AND SECOND LADY leave)

SINIUKHAEV: Oh, how weary I am of it all. I wish they would murder me instead: put me out of my misery. I wonder if anybody would mistake me for the Emperor? (Looking down at his shabby clothes.) Well, anything's possible. The Emperor, he's not so different, a man like all of us, really. Like me. No, that's difficult to imagine. But then, if he'd been born Siniukhaev and I Romanov… No, it's absurd… On the other hand, who's to know? Whether he's murdered or whether… something else happens… there's bound to be a cover-up. Those in high places always manage to hide things like that. They'll say he died of apoplexy or something. They'll get rid of whoever's in charge of a country and blame it all on some little guy like me. (Getting more interested.) But there are advantages to cover-ups. I wonder… (Rushes off.)

[Romance: 0.00 — 0.45]

Scene 18

(The lights go down and come up again on the EMPEROR in the four-poster bed. There is also a desk on stage.)

EMPEROR: (Crying out in his sleep.) I'm lost, lost. Help! Help!

(SINIUKHAEV comes on stage in the process of changing his uniform into the EMPEROR's, throwing down his own clothes near or under the bed. The process may continue even later in the scene when the conspirators burst in, as long as it is complete — except for putting on the EMPEROR's wig and scarf — before SINIUKHAEV dives under the bed.)

SINIUKHAEV: But for now the Emperor sleeps. The Emperor… (the EMPEROR snores loudly) sleeps. Paul I, Autocrat and Emperor of all the Russians, our little father, and he's asleep.

(There is a rumpus outside.)

EMPEROR: (Terrified, in his nightshift, gets out of bed, putting on his wig and a scarf round his neck.) Help! Help! I won't renounce the throne, why should I? (More rumpus.) Oh no, they've come to get me. (Starts running round the room to find a place to hide.)

(NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY, ZUBOV and another CONSPIRATOR — or more if there are actors available — burst in. SINIUKHAEV tries to prevent them. The EMPEROR, in a panic, goes to hide behind a curtain.)

SINIUKHAEV: Stop, you can't come in here!

CONSPIRATOR: Who are you?

SINIUKHAEV: Er… er… I'm Paul I, Emperor of Russia.

(The others laugh and he is moved aside.)

ZUBOV: Where's the Emperor?

SINIUKHAEV: (Pointing to himself.) Right here!

(The others take no notice, and go to look in the EMPEROR's bed. Not finding him there, they go towards the curtain. SINIUKHAEV bars their way.)

SINIUKHAEV: No! It's me you want, I'm the Emperor, I really am.

[Troika: 0.28 — 1.00]

(The curtains are pulled aside, where the EMPEROR is discovered, terrified. After trembling for a few moments he rushes across to a door at the side of the stage.)

ZUBOV: Where do you think you're going?

EMPEROR: (Tugging at the door handle: it won't open.) To my wife's room. You wouldn't stop me visiting my wife, would you?

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: You had the door locked, so she couldn't come to you, remember?

EMPEROR: Oh my darling wife, whom I've always loved, why won't you open the door to me?

[Troika 1.00 — 1.14]

(The EMPEROR tries to escape again, while the others chase him around the room — SINIUKHAEV trying to stop them — and finally catch him, and place him at his desk.)

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: Sire, you're now my prisoner. You will immediately write out your abdication in favour of your son Alexander. (Gives him pen and paper.)

EMPEROR: (Shivering so much he is unable to write.) So my dear Neledinsky-Meletsky, you knew about the conspiracy all along.

(Shouts from off-stage.)

ZUBOV: The rest of them are after his blood.

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: We need only his abdication, not his murder… (Goes off.)

[Troika: 1.06 — 2.31, or less]

(Without words, to Prokofiev's music. Taking advantage of NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY'S departure, the EMPEROR suddenly pinches ZUBOV and the conspirator, then gets up and rushes round the stage again, with SINIUKHAEV still trying to stop the others. Finally the EMPEROR dives under the bed, and SINIUKHAEV does likewise. SINIUKHAEV then emerges wearing the Emperor's wig and scarf. The EMPEROR, under the bed, will change into SINIUKHAEV's old clothes lying close by. ZUBOV catches SINIUKHAEV and pulls the scarf tight.)

ZUBOV: We've got him!

SINIUKHAEV: (Clutching his throat, unable to breathe.) At last! (Violent, comical death throes as the scarf is pulled tighter.)

(NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY returns, looks at SINIUKHAEV in horror, but ZUBOV pulls the scarf tighter still — and may, if practical, pull SINIUKHAEV round the floor by it. SINIUKHAEV finally is still.)

ZUBOV: The Emperor is dead! (EMPEROR, looking out from under the bed, hastily puts his head under it again, while ZUBOV takes glasses from the table and pours from a bottle.) Long live the Emperor Alexander!

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY and CONSPIRATOR: (Drinking.) Alexander!

CONSPIRATOR: And I would like to propose a toast…

EMPEROR: (In the background, emerging from under his bed dressed as SINIUKHAEV, and about to creep away. Speaking too in SINIUKHAEV's voice.) To the only man I could ever trust: my good friend General Kizhe!

ZUBOV: To absent friends!

(CATHERINE II — and any other actors not already on stage — come to join them. ALL, including SINIUKHAEV and the EMPEROR, turn towards the audience, and drink.)

ALL (together): Absent friends! General Kizhe!

(On opening night, if desired, KIZHE may actually appear here, in the form of the play's director: dressed however may seem appropriate. The others would then all drink to him/her.)

[Romance: 2.47, as necessary]

(The EMPEROR creeps away unobserved. More death throes from SINIUKHAEV, while the others watch until he finally is still.)

NELEDINSKY-MELETSKY: “Let history record it wasn't me, Meletsky. The Emperor was killed…”

ALL (even SINIUKHAEV, who raises his head): “By apoplexy!”

[Concluding music from Kizhe's Wedding]

The End

© A. Colin Wright

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