Even in the convent's distant solitude.
MARFA.
Kill me he may, and stifle in the grave,
Or dungeon's gloom, my woman's voice, that it
Shall not reverberate throughout the world.
This he may do; but force me to speak aught
Against my will, that can he not; though backed
By all thy craft-no, he has missed his aim!
ARCHBISHOP.
Is this thy final purpose. Ponder well!
Hast thou no gentler message for the Czar?
MARFA.
Tell him to hope for heaven, if so he dare,
And for his people's love, if so he can.
ARCHBISHOP.
Enough! thou art bent on thy destruction.
Thou lean'st upon a reed, will break beneath thee;
One common ruin will o'erwhelm ye both.
[Exit.
MARFA.
It is my son, I cannot doubt 'tis he.
Even the wild hordes of the uncultured wastes
Take arms upon his side; the haughty Pole,
The palatine, doth stake his noble daughter
On the pure gold of his most righteous cause,
And I alone reject him-I, his mother?
I, only I, shook not beneath the storm
Of joy that lifts all hearts with dizzying whirl,
And scatters turmoil widely o'er the earth.
He is my son-I must, will trust in him,
And grasp with living confidence the hand
Which heaven hath sent for my deliverance.
'Tis he, he comes with his embattled hosts,
To set me free, and to avenge my shame!
Hark to his drums, his martial trumpets' clang!
Ye nations come-come from the east and south.
Forth from your steppes, your immemorial woods
Of every tongue, of every raiment come!
Bridle the steed, the reindeer, and the camel!
Sweep hither, countless as the ocean waves,
And throng around the banners of your king!
Oh, wherefore am I mewed and fettered here,
A prisoned soul with longings infinite!
Thou deathless sun, that circlest earth's huge ball,
Be thou the messenger of my desires!
Thou all-pervading, chainless breeze that sweep'st
With lightning speed to earth's remotest bound,
Oh, bear to him the yearnings of my heart.
My prayers are all I have to give; but these
I pour all glowing from my inmost soul,
And send them up to heaven on wings of flame,
Like armed hosts, I send them forth to hail him.
SCENE II.
A height crowned with trees. A wide and smiling landscape
occupies the background, which is traversed by a beautiful
river, and enlivened by the budding green of spring. At
various points the towers of several towns are visible.
Drums and martial music without. Enter ODOWALSKY, and other
officers, and immediately afterwards DEMETRIUS.
ODOWALSKY.
Go, lead the army downward by the wood,
Whilst we look round us here upon the height.
[Exeunt some of the officers.
Enter DEMETRIUS.
DEMETRIUS (starting back).
Ha! what a prospect!
ODOWALSKY.
Sire, thou see'st thy kingdom
Spread out before thee. That is Russian land.
RAZIN.
Why, e'en this pillar here bears Moscow's arms;
Here terminates the empire of the Poles.
DEMETRIUS.
Is that the Dnieper, rolls its quiet stream
Along these meadows?
ODOWALSKY.
That, sire, is the Desna;
See, yonder rise the towers of Tschernizow!
RAZIN.
Yon gleam you see upon the far horizon
Is from the roofs of Sewerisch Novogrod.
