In fact he actually is an outrageous ruffian, in no
matter whose eyes; but the visitor will find out, as everyone
else sooner or later fends out, that he is a man to be reckoned
with even by those who are not intimidated by his temper, bodily
strength, and exalted rank.
A pretty young lady, Yarinka, his favorite niece, is lounging on
an ottoman between his end of the table and the door, very sulky
and dissatisfied, perhaps because he is preoccupied with his
papers and his brandy bottle, and she can see nothing of him but
his broad back.
There is a screen behind the ottoman.
An old soldier, a Cossack sergeant, enters.
THE SERGEANT [softly to the lady, holding the door handle].
Little darling honey, is his Highness the prince very busy?
VARINKA. His Highness the prince is very busy. He is singing out
of tune; he is biting his nails; he is scratching his head; he is
hitching up his untidy stockings; he is making himself disgusting
and odious to everybody; and he is pretending to read state
papers that he does not understand because he is too lazy and
selfish to talk and be companionable.
PATIOMKIN [growls; then wipes his nose with his dressing-gown]!!
VARINKA. Pig. Ugh! [She curls herself up with a shiver of disgust
and retires from the conversation.
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