CLAIRE'S VOICE. Let me go. They are torturing Charles in there. I WILL go. How can you all dance as if nothing was happening? Let me go, I tell you. Let—me—go. [She dashes through the curtain, no one dares follow her.]
CATHERINE [rising in wrath]. How dare you?
CLAIRE [recklessly]. Oh, dare your grandmother! Where is my Charles? What are they doing to him?
EDSTASTON [shouting]. Claire, loosen these straps, in Heaven's name. Quick.
CLAIRE [seeing him and throwing herself on her knees at his side]. Oh, how dare they tie you up like that! [To Catherine.] You wicked wretch! You Russian savage! [She pounces on the straps, and begins unbuckling them.]
CATHERINE [conquering herself with a mighty effort]. Now self-control. Self-control, Catherine. Philosophy. Europe is looking on. [She forces herself to sit down.]
EDSTASTON. Steady, dearest: it is the Empress. Call her your Imperial Majesty. Call her Star of the North, Little Mother, Little Darling: that's what she likes; but get the straps off.
CLAIRE. Keep quiet, dear: I cannot get them off if you move.
CATHERINE [calmly]. Keep quite still, Captain [she tickles him.]
EDSTASTON. Ow! Agh! Ahowyow!