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.)