LAWYER. Yes, with extraordinary dignity. They look as if they were the judges instead of the accused. That's felt all the way through, and PETRUSHIN is taking advantage of it. PRINCE SERGIUS. What of Protosov? LAWYER. He's frightfully unnerved, trembling all over, but that's natural considering the sort of life he's led. Yes, he's all on edge, and he's interrupted, both judge and jury several times already. PRINCE SERGIUS. How do you think it will end? LAWYER. Hard to say. The jury are mixed. At any rate I don't think they'll find the Karenins guilty of premeditation. Do you want to go in? PRINCE SERGIUS. I should very much like to. LAWYER. Excuse me, you're Prince Sergius Abreskov, aren't you? (To the Prince.) There's an empty chair just at the left. [The guard lets PRINCE SERGIUS pass. IVAN PETROVICH. Prince! Bah! I am an aristocrat of the soul, and that's a higher title. LAWYER. Excuse me. [And exits down R. C. into courtroom. [PETUSHKOV, FEDYA'S companion in the dive, enters approaching IVAN PETROVICH. PETUSHKOV (R.). Oh, there you are. Well, how're things going? IVAN PETROVICH (L.). The speeches for the defense have begun, but this ignorant rascal won't let us in. Curse his damned petty soul. GUARD (C.) Silence! Where do you think you are? [Further applause is heard; door of the court opens, and there is a rush of lawyers and the general public into the corridor. A LADY. Oh, it's simply wonderful! When he spoke I felt as if my heart were breaking. AN OFFICER. It's all far better than a novel. But I don't see how she could ever have loved him. Such a sinister, horrible figure. [The other door opens over L.; the accused comes out. THE LADY (this group is down R.). Hush! There he is. See how wild he looks. FEDYA (seeing IVAN PETROVICH). Did you bring it? [Goes to PETROVICH. PETROVICH. There. [He hands FEDYA something; FEDYA hides it in his pocket. FEDYA (seeing PETUSHKOV). How foolish! How vulgar and how boring all this is, isn't it? [Men and women enter door L. and stand down L. watching. [Enter PETRUSHIN, from R. C., FEDYA'S counsel, a stout man with red cheeks; very animated. PETRUSHIN (rubbing his hands). Well, well, my friend. It's going along splendidly. Only remember, don't go and spoil things for me in your last speech. FEDYA (takes him by the arm). Tell me, what'll the worst be? PETRUSHIN. I've already told you. Exile to Siberia. FEDYA. Who'll be exiled to Siberia? PETRUSHIN. You and your wife, naturally. FEDYA. And at the best? PETRUSHIN. Religious pardon and the annulment of the second marriage. FEDYA. You mean--that we should be bound again--to one another---- PETRUSHIN. Yes. Only try to collect yourself. Keep up your courage. After all, there's no occasion for alarm. FEDYA. There couldn't be any other sentence, you're sure? PETRUSHIN. None other. None other. [Exits R. I. FEDYA stands motionless.