Classic Poem

SCENE THE SIXTH.

Within the enclosed grounds of the Monastery.

GRIGORY. A MONK .

GRIGORY .

How dull and weary is the course of our poor monkish life!
Day follows day: the same eternal things we see and hear:
See nothing but black copes, hear nothing but the chapel bell.
The whole day long we yawn and potter, doing naught the while;
The night disturbed with blackest thoughts and dreams of outer world;
That one is glad when bell strikes loud enough to wake the dead.
Within these close confines I can no longer live or breathe;
The world is wide: its many roads lie open to my choice,
I'll disappear, be lost, and counted dead!

MONK .

In truth, this life
Is dull and harsh for you warmblooded, hot, and lusty youths!

GRIGORY .

If but the Khan would threat again, or Litva stir revolt!
I then would go and gladly try my trusty sword with them:
If but our good Tsarevitch could from his dark tomb arise,
And cry aloud: " My children loyal, faithful, where are ye?
Boris ye serve, and fight for him who slily worked my ill;
Stand up against my foe, and hurl him to the shades below! "

MONK .

Enough! Thou speakst but foolish, empty words. The dead rise not.
Another fate, it seems, the young Tsarevitch was decreed.
But hearken, if thou wouldst the scheme succeed, then wisely scheme.

GRIGORY .

What dost thou mean?

MONK .

Were I but young and hale in years like thee,
And had not creeping age made silver gray my once brown hairs,
Thou knowst what I would say?

GRIGORY .

In riddles thou dost speak.

MONK .

Listen!
The common mob are fools, the dupes of any clever wight,
Most easily deceived, for ever seeking wonders new;
The Boyards, too, in Godounoff do but their equal own,
For even now the old Varangan race is dear to all.
In bearing, form, and years with the Tsarevitch thou art one,
And if thou courage hast.

GRIGORY .

I understand.

MONK .

Well, what sayst thou?

GRIGORY .

The die is cast! I am henceforth Dmitry, the Tsarevitch!

MONK .

And shalt be Tsar! In earnest pledge whereof give me thy hand.