Classic Poem

SCENE THE TWENTY THIRD.

A Tent.

BASMANOFF. POUSHKIN .

BASMANOFF .

I pray thee, enter here, and freely speak.
And so, thou hast been sent by him direct?

POUSHKIN .

His friendship true he would to thee propose;
As Moscow Tsar will give thee highest rank.

BASMANOFF .

This same high rank has Theodore conferred,
His army and his troops I now command;
In choosing me he set at naught their claims,
And angered the Boyards... My oath binds me.

POUSHKIN .

But thou didst swear to serve the lawful heir;
Thy oath is void, if, chance, another lives,
Who has still greater rights.

BASMANOFF .

Cease, Poushkin, cease!
Wherefore repeat this fable stale? I know
Both who and whence he is.

POUSHKIN .

And yet, Litva
And Russia long have recognised in him
The true Dmitry. But this I would not urge.
Be he the true Tsarevitch, or a mere
Pretender false, one thing I know and say:
The day must come, it may be soon or late,
This Theodore surrenders him Moscow.

BASMANOFF .

As long as I do serve our youthful Tsar,
So long shall none dare oust him from his throne;
Of troops we have enough, and more, thank God!
Each battle fought shall give them courage fresh;
And tell me, whom will you against me send,
The Cossack, Karela, or Pole, Mniszeck?
And what your force? Eight thousand at the most.

POUSHKIN .

Thou dost mistake: our strength is not in them.
I own myself, our troops are nothing worth;
The Cossacks fit for naught save plunder towns,
For naught the Poles are fit, save boast and drink,
The Russians... but why stay and speak of them?
With thee I will not play the hypocrite.
But wouldst thou know wherein we find our strength?
Not in our troops untrained, nor Polish aid,
But in the people's voice, their firm belief
Dost thou forget Dmitry's triumphs easy,
And conquests won by magic of his name,
When strongest towns, without a shot or blow,
Have oped their gates, and our raw troops have turned
To flight or captive ta'en thy Voyevodes
Thyself be judge: have once thy troops shown zeal
To fight with us? Say, when? Whilst Boris lived!
And now?... Nay, friend, the hour is past, to fan
Once more to flame the fire so long extinct:
Thou art with all thy skill and daring doomed
To fail: why court defeat, uphold a cause
Already lost? Show others how to act,
As rightful Tsar thyself proclaim Dmitry,
And win his lasting grace and favour kind.
What dost thou think?

BASMANOFF .

To-morrow shalt thou hear.


POUSHKIN .


Decide.

BASMANOFF .


Farewell!

POUSHKIN .


Consider well my words.

BASMANOFF .

'Tis true! 'Tis true! Dark treason reigns abroad
What best to do? Shall I thus tamely wait,
Till rebels capture and betray my life,
Into Otrepieff's hands? It wiser were,
Find refuge safe, ere whelming storm hath burst.
But how stands it, if I my sacred oath
Shall break, and leave my issue name disgraced?
If I the trust and faith of guileless Tsar
With black and foul ingratitude repay?
The treason-sin of exiled wretch, who smarts
Beneath his cruel wrong, we may forgive;
Not so with me, the trusted, dearly loved,
But death... or power... a people lost... or saved!
Come hither! Who waits there? My steed prepare!