THE LITHUANIAN FRONTIER
(October 16th, 1604)
Prince Kurbsky and pretender, both
on horseback. Troops approach the Frontier
Kurbsky. (Galloping at their head.)
There, there it is; there is the Russian frontier!
Fatherland! Holy Russia! I am thine!
With scorn from off my clothing now I shake
The foreign dust, and greedily I drink
New air; it is my native air. O father,
Thy soul hath now been solaced; in the grave
Thy bones, disgraced, thrill with a sudden joy!
Again doth flash our old ancestral sword,
This glorious sword—the dread of dark Kazan!
This good sword—servant of the tsars of
Moscow!
Now will it revel in its feast of slaughter,
Serving the master of its hopes.
Pretender. (Moves quietly with bowed head.) How
happy
Is he, how flushed with gladness and with glory
His stainless soul! Brave knight, I envy thee!
The son of Kurbsky, nurtured in exile,
Forgetting all the wrongs borne by thy father,
Redeeming his transgression in the grave,
Ready art thou for the son of great Ivan
To shed thy blood, to give the fatherland
Its lawful tsar. Righteous art thou; thy soul
Should flame with joy.
Kurbsky. And dost not thou likewise
Rejoice in spirit? There lies our Russia; she
Is thine, tsarevich! There thy people’s
hearts
Are waiting for thee, there thy Moscow waits,
Thy Kremlin, thy dominion.
Pretender. Russian blood,
O Kurbsky, first must flow! Thou for the tsar
Hast drawn the sword, thou art stainless; but I lead
you
Against your brothers; I am summoning
Lithuania against Russia; I am showing
To foes the longed-for way to beauteous Moscow!
But let my sin fall not on me, but thee,
Boris, the regicide! Forward! Set on!
Kurbsky. Forward! Advance! And woe to Godunov.
(They gallop. The troops cross the frontier.)
THE COUNCIL OF THE TSAR
The tsar, the patriarch and Boyars
Tsar. Is it possible? An unfrocked
monk against us
Leads rascal troops, a truant friar dares write
Threats to us! Then ’tis time to tame the
madman!
Trubetskoy, set thou forth, and thou Basmanov;
My zealous governors need help. Chernigov
Already by the rebel is besieged;
Rescue the city and citizens.
Basmanov. Three months
Shall not pass, Sire, ere even rumour’s tongue
Shall cease to speak of the pretender; caged
In iron, like a wild beast from oversea,
We’ll hale him into Moscow, I swear by God.
(Exit with Trubetskoy.)