EVERY one tried to look as if Isidor’s sermon contained nothing
unpleasant, and nobody mentioned it. It seemed to the Czar that the
hermit’s words had not made any impression on himself; but once or twice
during that day he caught himself thinking of the two peasants who had
been hanged, and the widow of Sventizky who had asked an amnesty for
them. That day the Emperor had to be present at a parade; after which he
went out for a drive; a reception of ministers came next, then dinner,
after dinner the theatre. As usual, the Czar fell asleep the moment his
head touched the pillow. In the night an awful dream awoke him: he saw
gallows in a large field and corpses dangling on them; the tongues
of the corpses were protruding, and their bodies moved and shook. And
somebody shouted, “It is you--you who have done it!” The Czar woke up
bathed in perspiration and began to think. It was the first time that he
had ever thought of the responsibilities which weighed on him, and the
words of old Isidor came back to his mind. . . .
But only dimly could he see himself as a mere human being, and he could
not consider his mere human wants and duties, because of all that was
required of him as Czar. As to acknowledging that human duties were more
obligatory than those of a Czar--he had not strength for that.