courtiers.] And then, as if I cared! [She turns again to
Naryshkin.] You should know by this time that I am frank and
original in character, like an Englishman. [She walks about
restlessly.] No: what maddens me about all this ceremony is that
I am the only person in Russia who gets no fun out of my being
Empress. You all glory in me: you bask in my smiles: you get
titles and honors and favors from me: you are dazzled by my crown
and my robes: you feel splendid when you have been admitted to my
presence; and when I say a gracious word to you, you talk about
it to everyone you meet for a week afterwards. But what do I get
out of it? Nothing. [She throws herself into the chair. Naryshkin
deprecates with a gesture; she hurls an emphatic repetition at
him.] Nothing!! I wear a crown until my neck aches: I stand
looking majestic until I am ready to drop: I have to smile at
ugly old ambassadors and frown and turn my back on young and
handsome ones. Nobody gives me anything. When I was only an
Archduchess, the English ambassador used to give me money
whenever I wanted it--or rather whenever he wanted to get
anything out of my sacred predecessor Elizabeth [the Court bows
to the ground]; but now that I am Empress he never gives me a
kopek. When I have headaches and colics I envy the scullerymaids.
And you are not a bit grateful to me for all my care of you, my
work, my thought, my fatigue, my sufferings.

THE PRINCESS DASHKOFF. God knows, Little Mother, we all implore
you to give your wonderful brain a rest. That is why you get
headaches. Monsieur Voltaire also has headaches. His brain is
just like yours.

CATHERINE. Dashkoff, what a liar you are! [Dashkoff curtsies with