! Ha, ha! I like that. Would anybody with
a sense of humor make a guy of a man like this, and then expect him to
take it seriously? I say: do tell them to loosen these straps.

CATHERINE [seating herself]. Why should I, pray?

EDSTASTON. Why! Why! Why, because they're hurting me.

CATHERINE. People sometimes learn through suffering. Manners, for
instance.

EDSTASTON. Oh, well, of course, if you're an ill-natured woman, hurting
me on purpose, I have nothing more to say.

CATHERINE. A monarch, sir, has sometimes to employ a necessary, and
salutary severity--

EDSTASTON [Interrupting her petulantly]. Quack! quack! quack!

CATHERINE. Donnerwetter!

EDSTASTON [continuing recklessly]. This isn't severity: it's tomfoolery.
And if you think it's reforming my character or teaching me anything,
you're mistaken. It may be a satisfaction to you; but if it is, all I
can say is that it's not an amiable satisfaction.

CATHERINE [turning suddenly and balefully on Naryshkin]. What are you
grinning at?

NARYSHKIN [falling on his knees in terror]. Be merciful, Little Mother.
My heart is in my mouth.

CATHERINE. Your heart and your mouth will be in two separate parts of
your body if you again forget in whose presence you stand. Go. And take
your men with you. [Naryshkin crawls to the door. The soldiers rise.]
Stop. Roll that [indicating Edstaston] nearer. [The soldiers obey.] Not
so close. Did I ask you for a footstool? [She pushes Edstaston away with
her foot.]

EDSTASTON [with a sudden squeal]. Agh!!! I must really ask your
Majesty not to put the point of your Imperial toe between my ribs. I am
ticklesome.

CATHERINE. Indeed? All the more reason for you to treat me with respect,
Captain. [To the others.] Begone. How many times must I give an order
before it is obeyed?

NARYSHKIN. Little Mother: they have brought some instruments of torture.
Will they be needed?

CATHERINE [indignantly]. How dare you name such abominations to a
Liberal Empress? You will always be a savage and a fool, Naryshkin.
These relics of barbarism are buried, thank God, in the grave of Peter
the Great. My methods are more civilized. [She extends her toe towards
Edstaston's ribs.]

EDSTASTON [shrieking hysterically]. Yagh! Ah! [Furiously.] If your
Majesty does that again I will write to the London Gazette.

CATHERINE [to the soldiers]. Leave us. Quick! do you hear? Five thousand
blows of the stick for the soldier who is in the room when I speak