Boris Godunov | Page 7

voce.) Yon lad, it appears, is poor;
there's
nothing to be got out of him; on the other hand
the old men--
1ST OFFICER. Be silent; we shall come to them presently.
--Well,
my fathers, how are you getting on?
VARLAAM. Badly, my sons, badly! The Christians have
now turned
stingy; they love their money; they hide
their money. They give little
to God. The people of
the world have become great sinners. They
have all
devoted themselves to commerce, to earthly cares; they


think of worldly wealth, not of the salvation of the soul.
You walk
and walk; you beg and beg; sometimes in
three days begging will not
bring you three half-pence.
What a sin! A week goes by; another
week; you look
into your bag, and there is so little in it that you are

ashamed to show yourself at the monastery. What are
you to do?
From very sorrow you drink away what is
left; a real calamity! Ah, it
is bad! It seems our last
days have come--
HOSTESS. (Weeps.) God pardon and save you!
(During the course
of VARLAAM'S speech the 1st
OFFICER 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