Pretender.  Well I knew
The men of Don; I doubted not to see
The Cossack hetmen in my ranks.  We thank
Our army of the Don.  Today, we know,
The Cossacks are unjustly persecuted,
Oppressed; but if God grant us to ascend
The throne of our forefathers, then as of yore
We’ll gratify the free and faithful Don.

Poet. (Approaches. bowing low, and taking Gregory by the hem of his caftan.) Great prince, illustrious offspring of a king!

Pretender.  What wouldst thou?

Poet.  Condescendingly accept
This poor fruit of my earnest toil.

Pretender.  What see I? 
Verses in Latin!  Blest a hundredfold
The tie of sword and lyre; the selfsame laurel
Binds them in friendship.  I was born beneath
A northern sky, but yet the Latin muse
To me is a familiar voice; I love
The blossoms of Parnassus, I believe
The prophecies of singers.  Not in vain
The ecstasy boils in their flaming breast;
Action is hallowed, being glorified
Beforehand by the poets!  Approach, my friend. 
In memory of me accept this gift.

(Gives him a ring.)

When fate fulfils for me her covenant,
When I assume the crown of my forefathers,
I hope again to hear the measured tones
Of thy sweet voice, and thy inspired lay. 
Musa gloriam Coronat, gloriaque musam. 
And so, friends, till tomorrow, au revoir.

All.  Forward!  Long live Dimitry!  Forward, forward! 
Long live Dimitry, the great prince of Moscow!

CASTLE OF THE GOVERNOR

MNISHEK IN SAMBOR

Dressing-Room of Marina

Marina, ROUZYA (dressing her), Serving-Women

Marina. 
(Before a mirror.) Now then, is it ready?  Cannot
you make haste?

ROUZYA.  I pray you first to make the difficult choice;
Will you the necklace wear of pearls, or else
The emerald half-moon?

Marina.  My diamond crown.

ROUZYA.  Splendid!  Do you remember that you wore it
When to the palace you were pleased to go? 
They say that at the ball your gracious highness
Shone like the sun; men sighed, fair ladies whispered—­
’Twas then that for the first time young Khotkevich
Beheld you, he who after shot himself. 
And whosoever looked on you, they say
That instant fell in love.

Marina.  Can’t you be quicker?

ROUZYA.  At once.  Today your father counts upon you. 
’Twas not for naught the young tsarevich saw you;
He could not hide his rapture; wounded he is
Already; so it only needs to deal him
A resolute blow, and instantly, my lady,
He’ll be in love with you.  ’Tis now a month
Since, quitting Cracow, heedless of the war
And throne of Moscow, he has feasted here,
Your guest, enraging Poles alike and Russians. 
Heavens!  Shall I ever live to see the day?—­
Say, you will not, when to his capital
Dimitry leads the queen of Moscow, say
You’ll not forsake me?