[She rises and turns to the
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.
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