MAN. A library? A roomful of books.

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

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 Servian uniform, but among
civilized people. We go to Bucharest every year for the opera
season; and I have spent a whole month in Vienna.

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?

MAN. Is that the one with the devil in it in red velvet, and a
soldier's chorus?

RAINA (contemptuously). No!

MAN (stifling a heavy sigh of weariness). Then I don't know it.

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 enemy, an old Castilian
noble. The noble refuses to give him up. His guest is sacred to
him.