Boris Godunov | Page 7

watches MISSAIL significantly.)
1ST OFFICER. Alexis! Have you the tsar's edict with you?
2ND OFFICER. I have it.
1ST OFFICER. Give it here.
MISSAIL. Why do you look at me so fixedly?
1ST OFFICER. This is why; from Moscow there has fled a?certain wicked heretic--Grishka Otrepiev. Have you?heard this?
MISSAIL. I have not heard it.
OFFICER. Not heard it? Very good. And the tsar has?ordered to arrest and hang the fugitive heretic. Do you?know this?
MISSAIL. I do not know it.
OFFICER. (To VARLAAM.) Do you know how to read?
VARLAAM. In my youth I knew how, but I have forgotten.
OFFICER. (To MISSAIL.) And thou?
MISSAIL. God has not made me wise.
OFFICER. So then here's the tsar's edict.
MISSAIL. What do I want it for?
OFFICER. It seems to me that this fugitive heretic, thief,?swindler, is--thou.
MISSAIL. I? Good gracious! What are you talking about?
OFFICER. Stay! Hold the doors. Then we shall soon get?at the truth.
HOSTESS. O the cursed tormentors! Not to leave even the?old man in peace!
OFFICER. Which of you here is a scholar?
GREGORY. (Comes forward.) I am a scholar!
OFFICER. Oh, indeed! And from whom did you learn?
GREGORY. From our sacristan.
OFFICER (Gives him the edict.) Read it aloud.
GREGORY. (Reads.) "An unworthy monk of the Monastery?Of Chudov, Gregory, of the family of Otrepiev, has fallen?into heresy, taught by the devil, and has dared to vex?the holy brotherhood by all kinds of iniquities and acts?of lawlessness. And, according to information, it has?been shown that he, the accursed Grishka, has fled to the?Lithuanian frontier."
OFFICER. (To MISSAIL.) How can it be anyone but you?
GREGORY. "And the tsar has commanded to arrest him--"
OFFICER. And to hang!
GREGORY. It does not say here "to hang."
OFFICER. Thou liest. What is meant is not always put into?writing. Read: to arrest and to hang.
GREGORY. "And to hang. And the age of the thief?Grishka" (looking at VARLAAM) "about fifty, and his?height medium; he has a bald head, grey beard, fat?belly."
(All glance at VARLAAM.)
1ST OFFICER, My lads! Here is Grishka! Hold him!?Bind him! I never thought to catch him so quickly.
VARLAAM. (Snatching the paper.) Hands off, my lads!?What sort of a Grishka am I? What! Fifty years old,?grey beard, fat belly! No, brother. You're too young?to play off tricks on me. I have not read for a long time?and I make it out badly, but I shall manage to make it?out, as it's a hanging matter. (Spells it out.) "And his?age twenty." Why, brother, where does it say fifty?--?Do you see--twenty?
2ND OFFICER. Yes, I remember, twenty; even so it was?told us.
1ST OFFICER. (To GREGORY.) Then, evidently, you like a?joke, brother.
(During the reading GREGORY stands with downcast?head, and his hand in his breast.)
VARLAAM. (Continues.) "And in stature he is small, chest?broad, one arm shorter than the other, blue eyes, red?hair, a wart on his cheek, another on his forehead."?Then is it not you, my friend?
(GREGORY suddenly draws a dagger; all give way?before him; he dashes through the window.)
OFFICERS. Hold him! Hold him!
(All run out in disorder.)
MOSCOW. SHUISKY'S HOUSE
SHUISKY. A number of Guests. Supper
SHUISKY. More wine! Now, my dear guests.
(He rises; all rise after him.)
The final draught!?Read the prayer, boy.
Boy. Lord of the heavens, Who art?Eternally and everywhere, accept?The prayer of us Thy servants. For our monarch,?By Thee appointed, for our pious tsar,?Of all good Christians autocrat, we pray.?Preserve him in the palace, on the field?Of battle, on his nightly couch; grant to him?Victory o'er his foes; from sea to sea?May he be glorified; may all his house?Blossom with health, and may its precious branches?O'ershadow all the earth; to us, his slaves,?May he, as heretofore, be generous.?Gracious, long-suffering, and may the founts?Of his unfailing wisdom flow upon us;?Raising the royal cup, Lord of the heavens,?For this we pray.
SHUISKY. (Drinks.) Long live our mighty sovereign!?Farewell, dear guests. I thank you that ye scorned not?My bread and salt. Farewell; good-night.
(Exeunt Guests: he conducts them to the door.)
PUSHKIN. Hardly could they tear themselves away; indeed,?Prince Vassily Ivanovitch, I began to think that we?should not succeed in getting any private talk.
SHUISKY. (To the Servants.) You there, why do you stand?Gaping? Always eavesdropping on gentlemen! Clear?the table, and then be off.
(Exeunt Servants.)
What is it, Athanasius?Mikailovitch?
PUSHKIN. Such a wondrous thing!?A message was sent here to me today?From Cracow by my nephew Gabriel Pushkin.
SHUISKY. Well?
PUSHKIN. 'Tis strange news my nephew writes. The son?Of the Terrible-- But stay--
(Goes to the door and examines it.)
The royal boy,?Who murdered was by order of Boris--
SHUISKY. But these are no new tidings.
PUSHKIN. Wait a little;?Dimitry lives.
SHUISKY. So that's it! News indeed!?Dimitry living!--Really marvelous!?And is that all?
PUSHKIN. Pray listen to the end;?Whoe'er he be, whether he be Dimitry?Rescued, or else some spirit in his shape,?Some daring rogue, some insolent pretender,?In any case Dimitry has appeared.
SHUISKY. It cannot be.
PUSHKIN. Pushkin himself beheld him?When first he reached the court, and through the ranks?Of Lithuanian gentlemen went straight?Into the secret chamber of the king.
SHUISKY. What kind of man? Whence comes he?
PUSHKIN. No one