66 MOSCOW ADMITS A CRITIC

comfortable. At times he has flashes of spiritual insight
and of peasant wisdom, but he is far too good-tempered
and far too weak, though his complete inconsistency
sometimes comes out very pleasantly, and at the end he
throws himself on the ground with the words: " O God,
why did you ever make me Tsar ? "

The third occasion was perhaps the most striking,

The Queen of Spades of Chaikovsky, one of my favourite

operas, is the only one that I know of based on the

theme of gambling. This was given in that very Zimin

theatre in which I had made my appeal just before I last

left Moscow, wondering whether I should see it again,

and if so, under what circumstances, and my feelings

were of a mixed description. Here Meyerhold was at has

best with his alterations. He was present, and I had

a short talk with him in one of the intervals. There is

a mysterious old countess, in her youth a great beauty,

who has been given a diabolic secret, by which she can

guess three successive cards drawn at random from a

pack. She may tell this secret to others twice, but if

she is asked a third time she will die. She comes back

from a ball and sits in her armchair lamenting the decline

of gaiety since the times of Louis Philippe, when the hero

of die play, Herman, a poor young guardsman, who must

find a fortune if he is to marry the lady of his heart,

comes out from a hiding-place and puts the fatal question

with the fatal result. Meyerhold has now introduced

the ball itself, which had no place in the original. It was

a splendid pageant of old Tsarist days, and ended with

the actual entry of Nicholas L, who was the very peak

point in the history of the Russian autocracy—there

was no question who it was, the actor was very well made