SCENE.--_Council Chamber in the Emperor's Palace, hung with yellow
tapestry. Table, with chair of State, set for the Czar; window behind,
opening on to a balcony. As the scene progresses the light outside gets
darker._
_Present._--PRINCE PAUL MARALOFFSKI, PRINCE PETROVITCH, COUNT ROUVALOFF,
BARON RAFF, COUNT PETOUCHOF.
PRINCE PETRO. So our young scatter-brained Czarevitch has been forgiven
at last, and is to take his seat here again.
PRINCE PAUL. Yes; if that is not meant as an extra punishment. For my
own part, at least, I find these Cabinet Councils extremely exhausting.
PRINCE PETRO. Naturally; you are always speaking.
PRINCE PAUL. No; I think it must be that I have to listen sometimes.
COUNT R. Still, anything is better than being kept in a sort of prison,
like he was--never allowed to go out into the world.
PRINCE PAUL. My dear Count, for romantic young people like he is, the
world always looks best at a distance; and a prison where one's allowed
to order one's own dinner is not at all a bad place. (_Enter the
CZAREVITCH. The courtiers rise._) Ah! good afternoon, Prince. Your
Highness is looking a little pale to-day.
CZARE. (_slowly, after a pause_). I want change of air.
PRINCE PAUL (_smiling_). A most revolutionary sentiment! Your Imperial
father would highly disapprove of any reforms with the thermometer in
Russia.
CZARE. (_bitterly_). My Imperial father had kept me for six months in
this dungeon of a palace. This morning he has me suddenly woke up to see
some wretched Nihilists hung; it sickened me, the bloody butchery,
though it was a noble thing to see how well these men can die.
PRINCE PAUL. When you are as old as I am, Prince, you will understand
that there are few things easier than to live badly and to die well.
CZARE. Easy to die well! A lesson experience cannot have taught you,
whatever you may know of a bad life.
PRINCE PAUL (_shrugging his shoulders_). Experience, the name men give
to their mistakes. I never commit any.
CZARE. (_bitterly_). No; crimes are more in your line.
PRINCE PETRO. (_to the CZAREVITCH_). The Emperor was a good deal
agitated about your late appearance at the ball last night, Prince.
[1]COUNT R. (_laughing_). I believe he thought the Nihilists had broken
into the palace and carried you off.
BARON RAFF. If they had you would have missed a charming dance.[1]
PRINCE PAUL. And[2] an excellent supper. Gringoire really excelled
himself in his salad. Ah! you may laugh, Baron; but to make a good salad
is a much more difficult thing than cooking accounts. To make a good
salad is to be a brilliant diplomatist--the problem is so entirely the
same in both cases. To know exactly how much oil one must put with one's
vinegar.
BARON RAFF. A cook and a diplomatist! an excellent parallel. If I had a
son who was a fool I'd make him one or the other.
PRINCE PAUL. I see your father did not hold the same opinion, Baron.
But, believe me, you are wrong to run down cookery. For myself, the only
immortality I desire is to invent a new sauce. I have never had time
enough to think seriously about it, but I feel it is in me, I feel it is
in me.
CZARE. You have certainly missed your _metier_,[3] Prince Paul; the
_cordon bleu_ would have suited you much better than the Grand Cross of
Honour. But you know you could never have worn your white apron well;
you would have soiled it too soon, your hands are not clean enough.
PRINCE PAUL (_bowing_). Que voulez vous? I manage your father's
business.
CZARE. (_bitterly_). You mismanage my father's business, you mean! Evil
genius of his life that you are! before you came there was some love
left in him. It is you who have embittered his nature, poured into his
ear the poison of treacherous counsel, made him hated by the whole
people, made him what he is--a tyrant!
(_The courtiers look significantly at each other._)
PRINCE PAUL (_calmly_). I see your Highness does want change of air. But
I have been an eldest son myself. (_Lights a cigarette._) I know what it
is when a father won't die to please one.
(_The CZAREVITCH goes to the top of the stage, and leans against the
window, looking out._)
PRINCE PETRO. (_to BARON RAFF_). Foolish boy! [4]He will be sent into
exile, or worse, if he is not careful.[4]
BARON RAFF. Yes.[5] What a mistake it is to be sincere!
PRINCE PETRO. The only folly you have never committed, Baron.
BARON RAFF. One has only one head, you know, Prince.
PRINCE PAUL. My dear Baron, your head is the last thing any one would
wish to take from you. (_Pulls out snuffbox and offers it to PRINCE
PETROVITCH._)
PRINCE PETRO. Thanks, Prince! Thanks!
PRINCE PAUL. Very delicate, isn't it? I get it direct from Paris. But
under this vulgar Republic everything has degenerated over there.
"Cotelettes a l'imperiale" vanished, of course, with the Bourbon, and
omelettes went out with the Orleanists. La belle France is entirely
ruined, Prince, through bad morals and worse cookery. (_Enter the
MARQUIS DE POIVRARD._) Ah! Marquis. I trust Madame la Marquise is well.
MARQUIS DE P. You ought to know better than I do, Prince Paul; you see
more _of_ her.
PRINCE PAUL (_bowing_). Perhaps I see more _in_ her, Marquis. Your wife
is really a charming woman, so full of _esprit_, and so satirical too;
she talks continually of you when we are together.
PRINCE PETRO. (_looking at the clock_). His Majesty is a little late
to-day, is he not?
PRINCE PAUL. What has happened to you, my dear Petrovitch? you seem
quite out of sorts. You haven't quarrelled with your cook, I hope? What
a tragedy that would be for you; you would lose all your friends.
PRINCE PETRO. I fear I wouldn't be so fortunate as that. You forget I
would still have my purse.[6] But you are wrong for once; my chef and I
are on excellent[7] terms.
PRINCE PAUL. Then your creditors or Mademoiselle Vera Sabouroff have
been writing to you? I find both of them such excellent correspondents.
But really you needn't be alarmed. I find the most violent proclamations
from the Executive Committee, as they call it, left all over my house. I
never read them; they are so badly spelt as a rule.
PRINCE PETRO. Wrong again, Prince; the Nihilists leave me alone for some
reason or other.
PRINCE PAUL (_aside_). Ah! true. I forgot. Indifference is the revenge
the world takes on mediocrities.
PRINCE PETRO. I am bored with life,[8] Prince. Since the opera season
ended I have been a perpetual martyr to ennui.
PRINCE PAUL. The maladie du siecle! You want a new excitement, Prince.
Let me see--you have been married twice already; suppose you
try--falling in love, for once.
BARON R. Prince, I have been thinking a good deal lately--
PRINCE PAUL (_interrupting_). You surprise me very much, Baron.
BARON R. I cannot understand your nature.
PRINCE PAUL (_smiling_). If my nature had been made to suit your
comprehension rather than my own requirements, I am afraid I would have
made a very poor figure in the world.
COUNT R. There seems to be nothing in life about which you would not
jest.
PRINCE PAUL. Ah! my dear Count, life is much too important a thing ever
to talk seriously about it.
CZARE. (_coming back from the window_). I don't think Prince Paul's
nature is such a mystery. He would stab his best friend for the sake of
writing an epigram on his tombstone, or experiencing a new sensation.
PRINCE PAUL. Parbleu! I would sooner lose my best friend than my worst
enemy. To have friends, you know, one need only be good-natured; but
when a man has no enemy left there must be something mean about him.
CZARE. (_bitterly_). If to have enemies is a measure of greatness, then
you must be a Colossus, indeed, Prince.
PRINCE PAUL. Yes, I know I'm the most hated man in Russia, except your
father, [9]except your father, of course,[9] Prince. He doesn't seem to
like it much, by the way, but I do, I assure you. (_Bitterly._) I love
to drive through the streets and see how the canaille scowl at me from
every corner. It makes me feel I am a power in Russia; one man against a
hundred millions! Besides, I have no ambition to be a popular hero, to
be crowned with laurels one year and pelted with stones the next; I
prefer dying peaceably in my own bed.
CZARE. And after death?
PRINCE PAUL (_shrugging his shoulders_). Heaven is a despotism. I shall
be at home there.
CZARE. Do you never think of the people and their rights?
PRINCE PAUL. The people and their rights bore me. I am sick of both. In
these modern days to be vulgar, illiterate, common and vicious, seems to
give a man a marvellous infinity of rights that his honest fathers never
dreamed of. Believe me, Prince, in good democracy every man should be an
aristocrat; but these people in Russia who seek to thrust us out are no
better than the animals in one's preserves, and made to be shot at, most
of them.
CZARE. (_excitedly_). If they are[10] common, illiterate, vulgar, no
better than the beasts of the field, who made them so?
(_Enter AIDE-DE-CAMP._)
AIDE-DE-CAMP. His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor! (_PRINCE PAUL looks at
the CZAREVITCH, and smiles._)
(_Enter the CZAR, surrounded by his guard._)
CZARE. (_rushing forward to meet him_). Sire!
CZAR (_nervous and frightened_). Don't come too near me, boy! Don't come
too near me, I say! There is always something about an heir to a crown
unwholesome to his father. Who is that man over there? I don't know him.
What is he doing? Is he a conspirator? Have you searched him? Give him
till to-morrow to confess, then hang him!--hang him!
PRINCE PAUL. Sire, you are anticipating history. This is Count
Petouchof, your new ambassador to Berlin. He is come to kiss hands on
his appointment.
CZAR. To kiss my hand? There is some plot in it. He wants to poison me.
There, kiss my son's hand; it will do quite as well.
(_PRINCE PAUL signs to COUNT PETOUCHOF to leave the room. Exit PETOUCHOF
and the guards. CZAR sinks down into his chair. The courtiers remain
silent._)
PRINCE PAUL (_approaching_). Sire! will your Majesty--
CZAR. What do you startle me like that for? No, I won't. (_Watches the
courtiers nervously._) Why are you clattering your sword, sir? (_To
COUNT ROUVALOFF._) Take it off, I shall have no man wear a sword in my
presence (_looking at CZAREVITCH_), least of all my son. (_To PRINCE
PAUL._) You are not angry with me, Prince? You won't desert me, will
you? Say you won't desert me. What do you want? You can have
anything--anything.
PRINCE PAUL (_bowing very low_). Sire, 'tis enough for me to have your
confidence. (_Aside._) I was afraid he was going to revenge himself and
give me another decoration.
CZAR (_returning to his chair_). Well, gentlemen.
MARQ. DE POIV. Sire, I have the honour to present to you a loyal address
from your subjects in the Province of Archangel, expressing their horror
at the last attempt on your Majesty's life.
PRINCE PAUL. The last attempt but two, you ought to have said, Marquis.
Don't you see it is dated three weeks back?
CZAR. They are good people in the Province of Archangel--honest, loyal
people. They love me very much--simple, loyal people; give them a new
saint, it costs nothing. Well, Alexis (_turning to the CZAREVITCH_)--how
many traitors were hung this morning?
CZARE. There were three men strangled, Sire.
CZAR. There should have been three[11] thousand. I would to God that
this people had but one neck that I might strangle them with one noose!
Did they tell anything? whom did they implicate? what did they confess?
CZARE. Nothing, Sire.
CZAR. They should have been tortured then; why weren't they tortured?
Must I always be fighting in the dark? Am I never to know from what root
these traitors spring?
CZARE. What root should there be of discontent among the people but
tyranny and injustice amongst their rulers?
CZAR. What did you say, boy? tyranny! tyranny! Am I a tyrant? I'm not. I
love the people. I'm their father. I'm called so in every official
proclamation. Have a care, boy; have a care. You don't seem to be cured
yet of your foolish tongue. (_Goes over to PRINCE PAUL, and puts his
hand on his shoulder._) Prince Paul, tell me were there many people
there this morning to see the Nihilists hung?
PRINCE PAUL. Hanging is of course a good deal less of a novelty in
Russia now, Sire, than it was three or four years ago; and you know how
easily the people get tired even of their best amusements. But the
square and the tops of the houses were really quite crowded, were they
not, Prince? (_To the CZAREVITCH who takes no notice._)
CZAR. That's right; all loyal citizens should be there. It shows them
what to look forward to. Did you arrest any one in the crowd?
PRINCE PAUL. Yes, Sire, a woman for cursing your name. (_The CZAREVITCH
starts anxiously._) She was the mother of the two criminals.
CZAR (_looking at CZAREVITCH_). She should have blessed me for having
rid her of her children. Send her to prison.
CZARE. The prisons of Russia are too full already, Sire. There is no
room in them for any more victims.
[12]CZAR. They don't die fast enough, then. You should put more of them
into one cell at once. You don't keep them long enough in the mines. If
you do they're sure to die; but you're all too merciful. I'm too
merciful myself. Send her to Siberia.[12] She is sure to die on the way.
(_Enter an AIDE-DE-CAMP._) Who's that? Who's that?
AIDE-DE-CAMP. A letter for his Imperial Majesty.
CZAR (_to PRINCE PAUL_). I won't open it. There may be something in it.
PRINCE PAUL. It would be a very disappointing letter, Sire, if there
wasn't. (_Takes letter himself, and reads it._)
PRINCE PETRO. (_to COUNT ROUVALOFF_). It must be some sad news. I know
that smile too well.
PRINCE PAUL. From the Chief of the Police at Archangel, Sire. "The
Governor of the province was shot this morning by a woman as he was
entering the courtyard of his own house. The assassin has been seized."
CZAR. I never trusted the people of Archangel. It's a nest of Nihilists
and conspirators. Take away their saints; they don't deserve them.
PRINCE PAUL. Your Highness would punish them more severely by giving
them an extra one. Three governors shot in two months. (_Smiles to
himself._) Sire, permit me to recommend your loyal subject, the Marquis
de Poivrard, as the new governor of your Province of Archangel.
MARQ. DE POIV. (_hurriedly_). Sire, I am unfit for this post.
PRINCE PAUL. Marquis, you are too modest. Believe me, there is no man
in Russia I would sooner see Governor of Archangel than yourself.
(_Whispers to CZAR._)
CZAR. Quite right, Prince Paul; you are always right. See that the
Marquis's letters are made out at once.
PRINCE PAUL. He can start to-night, Sire. I shall really miss you very
much, Marquis. I always liked your taste in wines and wives extremely.
MARQ. DE POIV. (_to the CZAR_). Start to-night, Sire? (_PRINCE PAUL
whispers to the CZAR._)
CZAR. Yes, Marquis, to-night; it is better to go at once.
PRINCE PAUL. I shall see that Madame la Marquise is not too lonely while
you are away; so you need not be alarmed for her.
COUNT R. (_to PRINCE PETROVITCH_). I should be more alarmed for myself.
CZAR. The Governor of Archangel shot in his own courtyard by a woman!
I'm not safe here. I'm not safe anywhere, with that she devil of the
revolution, Vera Sabouroff, here in Moscow. Prince Paul, is that woman
still here?
PRINCE PAUL. They tell me she was at the Grand Duke's ball last night. I
can hardly believe that; but she certainly had intended to leave for
Novgorod to-day, Sire. The police were watching every train for her;
but, for some reason or other, she did not go. Some traitor must have
warned her. But I shall catch her yet. A chase after a beautiful woman
is always exciting.
CZAR. You must hunt her down with bloodhounds, and when she is taken I
shall hew her limb from limb. I shall stretch her on the rack till her
pale white body is twisted and curled like paper in the fire.
PRINCE PAUL. Oh, we shall have another hunt immediately for her, Sire!
Prince Alexis will assist us, I am sure.
CZARE. You never require any assistance to ruin a woman, Prince Paul.
CZAR. Vera, the Nihilist, in Moscow! O God,[13] were it not better to
die at once the dog's death they plot for me than to live as I live now!
Never to sleep, or, if I do, to dream such horrid dreams that Hell
itself were peace when matched with them. To trust none but those I have
bought, to buy none worth trusting! To see a traitor in every smile,
poison in every dish, a dagger in every hand! To lie awake at night,
listening from hour to hour for the stealthy creeping of the murderer,
for the laying of the damned mine! You are all spies! you are all spies!
You worst of all--you, my own son! Which of you is it who hides these
bloody proclamations under my own pillow, or at the table where I sit?
Which of ye all is the Judas who betrays me? O God! O God! methinks
there was a time once, in our war with England, when nothing could make
me afraid. (_This with more calm and pathos._) I have ridden into the
crimson heart of war, and borne back an eagle which those wild islanders
had taken from us. Men said I was brave then. My father gave me the Iron
Cross of valour. Oh, could he see me now with this coward's livery ever
in my cheek! (_Sinks into his chair._) I never knew any love when I was
a boy. I was ruled by terror myself, how else should I rule now?
(_Starts up._) But I will have revenge; I will have revenge. For every
hour I have lain awake at night, waiting for the noose or the dagger,
they shall pass years in Siberia, centuries in the mines! Ay! I shall
have revenge.
CZARE. Father! have mercy on the people. Give them what they ask.
PRINCE PAUL. And begin, Sire, with your own head; they have a particular
liking for that.
CZAR. The people! the people! A tiger which I have let loose upon
myself; but I will fight with it to the death. [14]I am done with half
measures.[14] I shall crush these Nihilists at a blow. There shall not
be a man of them, ay, or a woman either, left alive in Russia. [15]Am I
Emperor for[15] nothing, that a woman should hold me at bay? Vera
Sabouroff shall be in my power, I swear it, before a week is ended,
[16]though I burn my whole city to find her.[16] She shall be flogged by
the knout, stifled in the fortress, strangled in the square!
CZARE. O God!
CZAR. For two years her hands have been clutching at my throat; for two
years she has made my life a hell; but I shall have revenge. Martial
law, Prince, martial law over the whole Empire; that will give me
revenge. A good measure, Prince, eh? a good measure.
PRINCE PAUL. And an economical one too, Sire. It would carry off your
surplus population in six months, and save you many expenses in courts
of justice; they will not be needed now.
CZAR. Quite right. There are too many people in Russia, too much money
spent on them, too much money in courts of justice. I'll shut them up.
CZARE. Sire, reflect before--
CZAR. When can you have the proclamations ready, Prince Paul?
PRINCE PAUL. They have been printed for the last six months, Sire. I
knew you would need them.
CZAR. That's good! That's very good! Let us begin at once. Ah, Prince,
if every king in Europe had a minister like you--
CZARE. There would be less kings in Europe than there are.
CZAR (_in frightened whisper, to PRINCE PAUL_). What does he mean? Do
you trust him? His prison hasn't cured him yet. Shall I banish him?
Shall I (_whispers_)...? The Emperor Paul did it. The Empress Catherine
there[17] (_points to picture on the wall_) did it. Why shouldn't I?
PRINCE PAUL. Your Majesty, there is no need for alarm. The Prince is a
very ingenuous young man. He pretends to be devoted to the people, and
lives in a palace; preaches socialism, and draws a salary that would
support a province. He'll find out one day that the best cure for
Republicanism is the Imperial crown, and will cut up the "bonnet rogue"
of Democracy to make decorations for his Prime Minister.
CZAR. You are right. If he really loved the people, he could not be my
son.
PRINCE PAUL. If he lived with the people for a fortnight, their bad
dinners would soon cure him of his democracy. Shall we begin, Sire?
CZAR. At once. Read the proclamation. Gentlemen, be seated. Alexis,
Alexis, I say, come and hear it! It will be good practice for you; you
will be doing it yourself some day.
CZARE. I have heard too much of it already. (_Takes his seat at the
table. COUNT ROUVALOFF whispers to him._)
CZAR. What are you whispering about there, Count Rouvaloff?
COUNT R. I was giving his Royal Highness some good advice, your Majesty.
PRINCE PAUL. Count Rouvaloff is the typical spendthrift, Sire; he is
always giving away what he needs most. (_Lays papers before the CZAR._)
I think, Sire, you will approve of this:--"Love of the people," "Father
of his people," "Martial law," and the usual allusions to Providence in
the last line. All it requires now is your Imperial Majesty's signature.
CZARE. Sire!
PRINCE PAUL (_hurriedly_). I promise your Majesty to crush every
Nihilist in Russia in six months if you sign this proclamation; every
Nihilist in Russia.
CZAR. Say that again! To crush every Nihilist in Russia; to crush this
woman, their leader, who makes war upon me in my own city. Prince Paul
Maraloffski, I create you Marechale of the whole Russian Empire to help
you to carry out martial law.
CZAR. Give me the proclamation. I will sign it at once.
PRINCE PAUL (_points on paper_). Here, Sire.
CZARE. (_starts up and puts his hands on the paper_). Stay! I tell you,
stay! The priests have taken heaven from the people, and you would take
the earth away too.
PRINCE PAUL. We have no time, Prince, now. This boy will ruin
everything. The pen, Sire.
CZARE. What! is it so small a thing to strangle a nation, to murder a
kingdom, to wreck an empire? Who are we who dare lay this ban of terror
on a people? Have we less vices than they have, that we bring them to
the bar of judgment before us?
PRINCE PAUL. What a Communist the Prince is! He would have an equal
distribution of sin as well as of property.
CZARE. Warmed by the same sun, nurtured by the same air, fashioned of
flesh and blood like to our own, wherein are they different to us, save
that they starve while we surfeit, that they toil while we idle, that
they sicken while we poison, that they die while we strangle?
CZAR. How dare--?
CZARE. I dare all for the people; but you would rob them of common
rights of common men.
CZAR. The people have no rights.
CZARE. Then they have great wrongs. Father, they have won your battles
for you; from the pine forests of the Baltic to the palms of India they
have ridden on victory's mighty wings in search of your glory! Boy as I
am in years, I have seen wave after wave of living men sweep up the
heights of battle to their death; ay, and snatch perilous conquest from
the scales of war when the bloody crescent seemed to shake above our
eagles.
CZAR (_somewhat moved_). Those men are dead. What have I to do with
them?
CZARE. Nothing! The dead are safe; you[18] cannot harm them now. They
sleep their last long sleep. Some in Turkish waters, others by the
windswept heights of Norway and the Dane! But these, the living, our
brothers, what have you done for them? They asked you for bread, you
gave them a stone. They sought for freedom, you scourged them with
scorpions. You have sown the seeds of this revolution yourself!--
PRINCE PAUL. And are we not cutting down the harvest?
CZARE. Oh, my brothers! better far that ye had died in the iron hail and
screaming shell of battle than to come back to such a doom as[19] this!
The beasts of the forests have their lairs, and the wild beasts their
caverns, but the people of Russia, conquerors of the world, have not
where to lay their heads.
PRINCE PAUL. They have the headsman's block.
CZARE. The headsman's block! Ay! you have killed their souls at your
pleasure, you would kill their bodies now.
CZAR. Insolent boy! Have you forgotten who is Emperor of Russia?
CZARE. No! The people reign now, by the grace of God.[20] You should
have been their shepherd; you have fled away like the hireling, and let
the wolves in upon them.
CZAR. Take him away! Take him away, Prince Paul!
CZARE. God hath given this people tongues to speak with; you would cut
them out that they may be dumb in their agony, silent in their torture!
But God hath given them hands to smite with, and they shall smite! Ay!
from the sick and labouring womb of this unhappy land some revolution,
like a bloody child, shall[21] rise up and slay you.
CZAR (_leaping up_). Devil! Assassin! Why do you beard me thus to my
face?
CZARE. Because I[22] am a Nihilist! (_The ministers start to their feet;
there is dead silence for a few minutes._)
CZAR. A Nihilist! a Nihilist! Scorpion whom I have nurtured, traitor
whom I have fondled, is this your bloody secret? Prince Paul
Maraloffski, Marechale of the Russian Empire, arrest the Czarevitch!
MINISTERS. Arrest the Czarevitch!
CZAR. A Nihilist! If you have sown with them, you shall reap with them!
If you have talked with them, you shall rot with them! If you have lived
with them, with them you shall die!
PRINCE PETRO. Die!
CZAR. A plague on all sons, I say! There should be no more marriages in
Russia when one can breed such vipers as you are! Arrest the Czarevitch,
I say!
PRINCE PAUL. Czarevitch! by order of the Emperor, I demand your sword.
(_CZAREVITCH gives up sword; PRINCE PAUL places it on the table._)
Foolish boy! you are not made for a conspirator; you have not learned to
hold your tongue. Heroics are out of place in a palace.
CZAR (_sinks into his chair with his eyes fixed on the CZAREVITCH_). O
God!
CZARE. If I am to die for the people, I am ready; one Nihilist more or
less in Russia, what does that matter?
PRINCE PAUL (_aside_). A good deal I should say to the one Nihilist.
[23]CZARE. The mighty brotherhood to which I belong has a thousand such
as I am, ten thousand better still! (_The CZAR starts in his seat._) The
star of freedom is risen already, and far off I hear the mighty wave
democracy break on these cursed shores.[23]
PRINCE PAUL (_to PRINCE PETROVITCH_). In that case you and I had better
learn how to swim.
CZARE. Father, Emperor, Imperial Master, I plead not for my own life,
but for the lives of my brothers, the people.
PRINCE PAUL (_bitterly_). Your brothers, the people, Prince, are not
content with their own lives, they always want to take their neighbour's
too.
CZAR (_standing up_). I am sick of being afraid. I have done with terror
now. From this day I proclaim war against the people--war to their
annihilation. As they have dealt with me, so shall I deal with them. I
shall grind them to powder, and strew their dust upon the air. There
shall be a spy in every man's house, a traitor on every hearth, a
hangman in every village, a gibbet in every square. Plague, leprosy, or
fever shall be less deadly than my wrath; I will make every frontier a
grave-yard, every province a lazar-house, and cure the sick by the
sword. I shall have peace in Russia, though it be the peace of the dead.
Who said I was a coward? Who said I was afraid? See, thus shall I crush
this people beneath my feet! (_Takes up sword of CZAREVITCH off table
and tramples on it._)
CZARE. Father, beware, the sword you tread on may turn and wound you.
The people suffer long, but vengeance comes at last, vengeance with red
hands and bloody purpose.
PRINCE PAUL. Bah! the people are bad shots; they always miss one.
CZARE. There are times when the people are instruments of God.
CZAR. Ay! and when kings are God's scourges for the people. Oh, my own
son, in my own house! My own flesh and blood against me! Take him away!
Take him away! Bring in my guards. (_Enter the Imperial Guard. CZAR
points to CZAREVITCH, who stands alone at the side of the stage._) To
the blackest prison in Moscow! Let me never see his face again.
(_CZAREVITCH is being led out._) No, no, leave him! I don't trust
guards. They are all Nihilists! They would let him escape and he would
kill me, kill me! No, I'll bring him to prison myself, you and I (_to
PRINCE PAUL_). I trust you, you have no mercy. I shall have no mercy.
Oh, my own son against me! How hot it is! The air stifles me! I feel as
if I were going to faint, as if something were at my throat. Open the
windows, I say! Out of my sight! Out of my sight! I can't bear his eyes.
Wait, wait for me. (_Throws window open and goes out on balcony._)
PRINCE PAUL (_looking at his watch_). The dinner is sure to be spoiled.
How annoying politics are and eldest sons!
VOICE (_outside, in the street_). God save the people! (_CZAR is shot,
and staggers back into the room._)
CZARE. (_breaking from the guards, and rushing over_). Father!
CZAR. Murderer! Murderer! You did it! Murderer! (_Dies._)
TABLEAU.
END OF ACT II.