KSENIA. Nay, nurse, I will be true to him even in death.
(Boris enters.)
TSAR. What, Ksenia? What, my sweet one? In thy girlhood Already a woe-stricken widow, ever Bewailing thy dead bridegroom! Fate forbade me To be the author of thy bliss. Perchance I angered Heaven; it was not mine to compass Thy happiness. Innocent one, for what Art thou a sufferer? And thou, my son, With what art thou employed? What’s this?
FEODOR. A chart Of all the land of Muscovy; our tsardom From end to end. Here you see; there is Moscow, There Novgorod, there Astrakhan. Here lies The sea, here the dense forest tract of Perm, And here Siberia.
TSAR. And what is this Which makes a winding pattern here?
FEODOR. That is The Volga.
TSAR. Very good! Here’s the sweet fruit Of learning. One can view as from the clouds Our whole dominion at a glance; its frontiers, Its towns, its rivers. Learn, my son; ‘tis science Which gives to us an abstract of the events Of our swift-flowing life. Some day, perchance Soon, all the lands which thou so cunningly Today hast drawn on paper, all will come Under thy hand. Learn, therefore; and more smoothly, More clearly wilt thou take, my son, upon thee The cares of state.
(SEMYON Godunov enters.)
But there comes Godunov Bringing reports to me. (To KSENIA.) Go to thy chamber Dearest; farewe1l, my child; God comfort thee.
(Exeunt KSENIA and NURSE.)
What news hast thou for me, Semyon Nikitich?
SEMYON G. Today at dawn the butler of Prince Shuisky And Pushkin’s servant brought me information.
TSAR. Well?
SEMYON G. In the first place Pushkin’s man deposed That yestermorn came to his house from Cracow A courier, who within an hour was sent Without a letter back.
TSAR. Arrest the courier.
SEMYON G. Some are already sent to overtake him.
TSAR. And what of Shuisky?
SEMYON G. Last night he entertained His friends; the Buturlins, both Miloslavskys, And Saltikov, with Pushkin and some others. They parted late. Pushkin alone remained Closeted with his host and talked with him A long time more.
TSAR. For Shuisky send forthwith.
SEMYON G. Sire, he is here already.
TSAR. Call him hither.
(Exit SEMYON Godunov.)
Dealings with Lithuania? What means this? I like not the seditious race of Pushkins, Nor must I trust in Shuisky, obsequious, But bold and wily—
(Enter SHUISKY.)
Prince, I must speak with thee. But thou thyself, it seems, hast business with me, And I would listen first to thee.
SHUISKY. Yea, sire; It is my duty to convey to thee Grave news.
TSAR. I listen.
SHUISKY. (Sotto voce, pointing to FEODOR.) But, sire—
TSAR. The tsarevich May learn whate’er Prince Shuisky knoweth. Speak.
SHUISKY. My liege, from Lithuania there have come Tidings to us—
TSAR. Are they not those same tidings Which yestereve a courier bore to Pushkin?
SHUISKY. Nothing is hidden from him!—Sire, I thought Thou knew’st not yet this secret.
TSAR. Let not that Trouble thee, prince; I fain would scrutinise Thy information; else we shall not learn The actual truth.
SHUISKY. I know this only, Sire; In Cracow a pretender hath appeared; The king and nobles back him.
TSAR. What say they? And who is this pretender?
SHUISKY. I know not.
TSAR. But wherein is he dangerous?
SHUISKY. Verily Thy state, my liege, is firm; by graciousness, Zeal, bounty, thou hast won the filial love Of all thy slaves; but thou thyself dost know The mob is thoughtless, changeable, rebellious, Credulous, lightly given to vain hope, Obedient to each momentary impulse, To truth deaf and indifferent; it feedeth On fables; shameless boldness pleaseth it. So, if this unknown vagabond should cross The Lithuanian border, Dimitry’s name Raised from the grave will gain him a whole crowd Of fools.
TSAR. Dimitry’s?—What?—That child’s?—Dimitry’s? Withdraw, tsarevich.
SHUISKY. He flushed; there’ll be a storm!
FEODOR. Suffer me, Sire—
TSAR. Impossible, my son; Go, go!
(Exit FEODOR.)
Dimitry’s name!
SHUISKY. Then he knew nothing.
TSAR. Listen: take steps this very hour that Russia Be fenced by barriers from Lithuania; That not a single soul pass o’er the border, That not a hare run o’er to us from Poland, Nor crow fly here from Cracow. Away!
SHUISKY. I go.
TSAR. Stay!—Is it not a fact that this report Is artfully concocted? Hast ever heard That dead men have arisen from their graves To question tsars, legitimate tsars, appointed, Chosen by the voice of all the people, crowned By the great Patriarch? Is’t not laughable? Eh? What? Why laugh’st thou not thereat?
SHUISKY. I, Sire?
TSAR. Hark, Prince Vassily; when first I learned this child Had been—this child had somehow lost its life, ‘Twas thou I sent to search the matter out. Now by the Cross and God I do adjure thee, Declare to me the truth upon thy conscience; Didst recognise the slaughtered boy; was’t not A substitute? Reply.
SHUISKY. I swear to thee—
TSAR. Nay, Shuisky, swear not, but reply; was it Indeed Dimitry?
SHUISKY. He.
TSAR. Consider, prince. I promise clemency; I will not punish With vain disgrace a lie that’s past. But if Thou now beguile me, then by my son’s head I swear—an evil fate shall overtake thee, Requital such that Tsar Ivan Vasilievich Shall shudder in his grave with horror of it.
SHUISKY. In punishment no terror lies; the terror Doth lie in thy disfavour; in thy presence Dare I use cunning? Could I deceive myself So blindly as not recognise Dimitry? Three days in the cathedral did I visit His corpse, escorted thither by all Uglich. Around him thirteen bodies lay of those Slain by the people, and on them corruption Already had set in perceptibly. But lo! The childish face of the tsarevich Was bright and fresh and quiet as if asleep; The deep gash had congealed not, nor the lines Of his face even altered. No, my liege, There is no doubt; Dimitry sleeps in the grave.
TSAR. Enough, withdraw.
(Exit SHUISKY.)
I choke!—let me get my breath! I felt it; all my blood surged to my face, And heavily fell back.—So that is why For thirteen years together I have dreamed Ever about the murdered child. Yes, yes— ‘Tis that!—now I perceive. But who is he, My terrible antagonist? Who is it Opposeth me? An empty name, a shadow. Can it be a shade shall tear from me the purple, A sound deprive my children of succession? Fool that I was! Of what was I afraid? Blow on this phantom—and it is no more. So, I am fast resolved; I’ll show no sign Of fear, but nothing must be held in scorn. Ah! Heavy art thou, crown of Monomakh!
CRACOW. HOUSE OF VISHNEVETSKY
The PRETENDER and a CATHOLIC PRIEST
PRETENDER. Nay, father, there will be no trouble. I know The spirit of my people; piety Does not run wild in them, their tsar’s example To them is sacred. Furthermore, the people Are always tolerant. I warrant you, Before two years my people all, and all The Eastern Church, will recognise the power Of Peter’s Vicar.
PRIEST. May Saint Ignatius aid thee When other times shall come. Meanwhile, tsarevich, Hide in thy soul the seed of heavenly blessing; Religious duty bids us oft dissemble Before the blabbing world; the people judge Thy words, thy deeds; God only sees thy motives.
PRETENDER. Amen. Who’s there?
(Enter a Servant.)
Say that we will receive them.
(The doors are opened; a crowd of Russians and Poles enters.)
Comrades! Tomorrow we depart from Cracow. Mnishek, with thee for three days in Sambor I’ll stay. I know thy hospitable castle Both shines in splendid stateliness, and glories In its young mistress; There I hope to see Charming Marina. And ye, my friends, ye, Russia And Lithuania, ye who have upraised Fraternal banners against a common foe, Against mine enemy, yon crafty villain. Ye sons of Slavs, speedily will I lead Your dread battalions to the longed-for conflict. But soft! Methinks among you I descry New faces.