Rendered into English verse by Alfred Hayes

DRAMATIS PERSONAE¹

BORIS GODUNOV, afterwards Tsar.

PRINCE SHUISKY, Russian noble.

PRINCE VOROTINSKY, Russian noble.

SHCHELKALOV, Russian Minister of State.

FATHER PIMEN, an old monk and chronicler.

GREGORY OTREPIEV, a young monk, afterwards the Pretender to the throne of Russia.

THE PATRIARCH, Abbot of the Chudov Monastery.

MISSAIL, wandering friar.

VARLAAM, wandering friar.

ATHANASIUS MIKAILOVICH PUSHKIN, friend of Prince Shuisky.

FEODOR, young son of Boris Godunov.

SEMYON NIKITICH GODUNOV, secret agent of Boris Godunov.

GABRIEL PUSHKIN, nephew of A. M. Pushkin.

PRINCE KURBSKY, disgraced Russian noble.

KHRUSHCHOV, disgraced Russian noble.

KARELA, a Cossack.

PRINCE VISHNEVETSKY.

MNISHEK, Governor of Sambor.

BASMANOV, a Russian officer.

MARZHERET, officer of the Pretender.

ROZEN, officer of the Pretender.

DIMITRY, the Pretender, formerly Gregory Otrepiev.

MOSALSKY, a Boyar.

KSENIA, daughter of Boris Godunov.

NURSE of Ksenia.

MARINA, daughter of Mnishek.

ROUZYA, tire-woman of Ksenia.

HOSTESS of tavern.

Boyars, The People, Inspectors, Officers, Attendants, Guests, a Boy in attendance on Prince Shuisky, a Catholic Priest, a Polish Noble, a Poet, an Idiot, a Beggar, Gentlemen, Peasants, Guards, Russian, Polish, and German Soldiers, a Russian Prisoner of War, Boys, an old Woman, Ladies, Serving-women.

PALACE OF THE KREMLIN

(FEBRUARY 20th, A.D. 1598)

PRINCE SHUISKY and VOROTINSKY

 
   VOROTINSKY. To keep the city's peace, that is the task
   Entrusted to us twain, but you forsooth
   Have little need to watch; Moscow is empty;
   The people to the Monastery have flocked
   After the patriarch. What thinkest thou?
   How will this trouble end?
 
 
   SHUISKY.                 How will it end?
   That is not hard to tell. A little more
   The multitude will groan and wail, Boris
   Pucker awhile his forehead, like a toper
   Eyeing a glass of wine, and in the end
   Will humbly of his graciousness consent
   To take the crown; and then—and then will rule us
   Just as before.
 
 
   VOROTINSKY.   A month has flown already
   Since, cloistered with his sister, he forsook
   The world's affairs. None hitherto hath shaken
   His purpose, not the patriarch, not the boyars
   His counselors; their tears, their prayers he heeds not;
   Deaf is he to the wail of Moscow, deaf
   To the Great Council's voice; vainly they urged
   The sorrowful nun-queen to consecrate
   Boris to sovereignty; firm was his sister,
   Inexorable as he; methinks Boris
   Inspired her with this spirit. What if our ruler
   Be sick in very deed of cares of state
   And hath no strength to mount the throne? What
   Say'st thou?
 
 
   SHUISKY. I say that in that case the blood in vain
   Flowed of the young tsarevich, that Dimitry
   Might just as well be living.
 
 
   VOROTINSKY.                 Fearful crime!
   Is it beyond all doubt Boris contrived
   The young boy's murder?
 
 
   SHUISKY.              Who besides? Who else
   Bribed Chepchugov in vain? Who sent in secret
   The brothers Bityagovsky with Kachalov?
   Myself was sent to Uglich, there to probe
   This matter on the spot; fresh traces there
   I found; the whole town bore witness to the crime;
   With one accord the burghers all affirmed it;
   And with a single word, when I returned,
   I could have proved the secret villain's guilt.
 
 
   VOROTINSKY. Why didst thou then not crush him?
 
 
   SHUISKY.                        At the time,
   I do confess, his unexpected calmness,
   His shamelessness, dismayed me. Honestly
   He looked me in the eyes; he questioned me
   Closely, and I repeated to his face
   The foolish tale himself had whispered to me.
 
 
   VOROTINSKY. An ugly business, prince.
 
 
   SHUISKY.                    What could I do?
   Declare all to Feodor? But the tsar
   Saw all things with the eyes of Godunov.
   Heard all things with the ears of Godunov;
   Grant even that I might have fully proved it,
   Boris would have denied it there and then,
   And I should have been haled away to prison,
   And in good time—like mine own uncle—strangled
   Within the silence of some deaf-walled dungeon.
   I boast not when I say that, given occasion,
   No penalty affrights me. I am no coward,
   But also am no fool, and do not choose
   Of my free will to walk into a halter.
 
 
   VOROTINSKY. Monstrous misdeed! Listen; I warrant you
   Remorse already gnaws the murderer;
   Be sure the blood of that same innocent child
   Will hinder him from mounting to the throne.
 
 
   SHUISKY. That will not baulk him; Boris is not so timid!
   What honour for ourselves, ay, for all Russia!
   A slave of yesterday, a Tartar, son
   By marriage of Maliuta, of a hangman,
   Himself in soul a hangman, he to wear
   The crown and robe of Monomakh!—
 
 
   VOROTINSKY.                   You are right;
   He is of lowly birth; we twain can boast
   A nobler lineage.
 
 
   SHUISKY.        Indeed we may!
 
 
   VOROTINSKY. Let us remember, Shuisky, Vorotinsky
   Are, let me say, born princes.
 
 
   SHUISKY.                     Yea, born princes,
   And of the blood of Rurik.
 
 
   VOROTINSKY.              Listen, prince;
   Then we, 'twould seem, should have the right to mount
   Feodor's throne.
 
 
   SHUISKY.       Rather than Godunov.
 
 
   VOROTINSKY. In very truth 'twould seem so.
 
 
   SHUISKY.                      And what then?
   If still Boris pursue his crafty ways,
   Let us contrive by skilful means to rouse
   The people. Let them turn from Godunov;
   Princes they have in plenty of their own;
   Let them from out their number choose a tsar.
 
 
   VOROTINSKY. Of us, Varyags in blood, there are full many,
   But 'tis no easy thing for us to vie
   With Godunov; the people are not wont
   To recognise in us an ancient branch
   Of their old warlike masters; long already
   Have we our appanages forfeited,
   Long served but as lieutenants of the tsars,
   And he hath known, by fear, and love, and glory,
   How to bewitch the people.
 
 
   SHUISKY. (Looking through a window.) He has dared,
   That's all—while we—Enough of this. Thou seest
   Dispersedly the people are returning.
   We'll go forthwith and learn what is resolved.
 

THE RED SQUARE

THE PEOPLE

 
   1ST PERSON. He is inexorable! He thrust from him
   Prelates, boyars, and Patriarch; in vain
   Prostrate they fall; the splendour of the throne
   Affrights him.
 
 
   2ND PERSON.  O, my God, who is to rule us?
   O, woe to us!
 
 
   3RD PERSON. See! The Chief Minister
   Is coming out to tell us what the Council
   Has now resolved.
 
 
   THE PEOPLE.     Silence! Silence! He speaks,
   The Minister of State. Hush, hush! Give ear!
 
 
   SHCHELKALOV. (From the Red Balcony.)
   The Council have resolved for the last time
   To put to proof the power of supplication
   Upon our ruler's mournful soul. At dawn,
   After a solemn service in the Kremlin,
   The blessed Patriarch will go, preceded
   By sacred banners, with the holy ikons
   Of Donsky and Vladimir; with him go
   The Council, courtiers, delegates, boyars,
   And all the orthodox folk of Moscow; all
   Will go to pray once more the queen to pity
   Fatherless Moscow, and to consecrate
   Boris unto the crown. Now to your homes
   Go ye in peace: pray; and to Heaven shall rise
   The heart's petition of the orthodox.
 

   (The PEOPLE disperse.)

THE VIRGIN'S FIELD

THE NEW NUNNERY. The People

 
   1ST PERSON. To plead with the tsaritsa in her cell
   Now are they gone. Thither have gone Boris,
   The Patriarch, and a host of boyars.
 
 
   2ND PERSON.                        What news?
 
 
   3RD PERSON. Still is he obdurate; yet there is hope.
 
 
   PEASANT WOMAN. (With a child.)
   Drat you! Stop crying, or else the bogie-man
   Will carry you off. Drat you, drat you! Stop crying!
 
 
   1ST PERSON. Can't we slip through behind the fence?
 
 
   2ND PERSON.                         Impossible!
   No chance at all! Not only is the nunnery
   Crowded; the precincts too are crammed with people.
   Look what a sight! All Moscow has thronged here.
   See! Fences, roofs, and every single storey
   Of the Cathedral bell tower, the church-domes,
   The very crosses are studded thick with people.
 
 
   1ST PERSON. A goodly sight indeed!
 
 
   2ND PERSON.                     What is that noise?
 
 
   3RD PERSON. Listen! What noise is that?—The people groaned;
   See there! They fall like waves, row upon row—
   Again—again—Now, brother, 'tis our turn;
   Be quick, down on your knees!
 
 
   THE PEOPLE. (On their knees, groaning and wailing.)
                                     Have pity on us,
   Our father! O, rule over us! O, be
   Father to us, and tsar!
 
 
   1ST PERSON. (Sotto voce.) Why are they wailing?
 
 
   2ND PERSON. How can we know? The boyars know well enough.
   It's not our business.
 
 
   PEASANT WOMAN. (With child.)
                        Now, what's this? Just when
   It ought to cry, the child stops crying. I'll show you!
   Here comes the bogie-man! Cry, cry, you spoilt one!
 

   (Throws it on the ground; the child screams.)

 
   That's right, that's right!
 
 
   1ST PERSON.               As everyone is crying,
   We also, brother, will begin to cry.
 
 
   2ND PERSON. Brother, I try my best, but can't.
 
 
   1ST PERSON.                             Nor I.
   Have you not got an onion?
 
 
   2ND PERSON.              No; I'll wet
   My eyes with spittle. What's up there now?
 
 
   1ST PERSON.                      Who knows
   What's going on?
 
 
   THE PEOPLE.    The crown for him! He is tsar!
   He has yielded!—Boris!—Our tsar!—Long live Boris!