Demetrius (play) Read online

  By all thy craft-no, he has missed his aim!

  ARCHBISHOP.

  Is this thy final purpose. Ponder well!

  Hast thou no gentler message for the Czar?

  MARFA.

  Tell him to hope for heaven, if so he dare,

  And for his people's love, if so he can.

  ARCHBISHOP.

  Enough! thou art bent on thy destruction.

  Thou lean'st upon a reed, will break beneath thee;

  One common ruin will o'erwhelm ye both.

  [Exit.

  MARFA.

  It is my son, I cannot doubt 'tis he.

  Even the wild hordes of the uncultured wastes

  Take arms upon his side; the haughty Pole,

  The palatine, doth stake his noble daughter

  On the pure gold of his most righteous cause,

  And I alone reject him-I, his mother?

  I, only I, shook not beneath the storm

  Of joy that lifts all hearts with dizzying whirl,

  And scatters turmoil widely o'er the earth.

  He is my son-I must, will trust in him,

  And grasp with living confidence the hand

  Which heaven hath sent for my deliverance.

  'Tis he, he comes with his embattled hosts,

  To set me free, and to avenge my shame!

  Hark to his drums, his martial trumpets' clang!

  Ye nations come-come from the east and south.

  Forth from your steppes, your immemorial woods

  Of every tongue, of every raiment come!

  Bridle the steed, the reindeer, and the camel!

  Sweep hither, countless as the ocean waves,

  And throng around the banners of your king!

  Oh, wherefore am I mewed and fettered here,

  A prisoned soul with longings infinite!

  Thou deathless sun, that circlest earth's huge ball,

  Be thou the messenger of my desires!

  Thou all-pervading, chainless breeze that sweep'st

  With lightning speed to earth's remotest bound,

  Oh, bear to him the yearnings of my heart.

  My prayers are all I have to give; but these

  I pour all glowing from my inmost soul,

  And send them up to heaven on wings of flame,

  Like armed hosts, I send them forth to hail him.

  SCENE II.

  A height crowned with trees. A wide and smiling landscape

  occupies the background, which is traversed by a beautiful

  river, and enlivened by the budding green of spring. At

  various points the towers of several towns are visible.

  Drums and martial music without. Enter ODOWALSKY, and other

  officers, and immediately afterwards DEMETRIUS.

  ODOWALSKY.

  Go, lead the army downward by the wood,

  Whilst we look round us here upon the height.

  [Exeunt some of the officers.

  Enter DEMETRIUS.

  DEMETRIUS (starting back).

  Ha! what a prospect!

  ODOWALSKY.

  Sire, thou see'st thy kingdom

  Spread out before thee. That is Russian land.

  RAZIN.

  Why, e'en this pillar here bears Moscow's arms;

  Here terminates the empire of the Poles.

  DEMETRIUS.

  Is that the Dnieper, rolls its quiet stream

  Along these meadows?

  ODOWALSKY.

  That, sire, is the Desna;

  See, yonder rise the towers of Tschernizow!

  RAZIN.

  Yon gleam you see upon the far horizon

  Is from the roofs of Sewerisch Novogrod.

  DEMETRIUS.

  What a rich prospect! What fair meadow lands!

  ODOWALSKY.

  The spring has decked them with her trim array;

  A teeming harvest clothes the fruitful soil.

  DEMETRIUS.

  The view is lost in limitless expanse.

  RAZIN.

  Yet is this but a small beginning, sire,

  Of Russia's mighty empire. For it spreads

  Towards the east to confines unexplored,

  And on the north has ne'er a boundary,

  Save the productive energy of earth.

  Behold, our Czar is quite absorbed in thought.

  DEMETRIUS.

  On these fair meads dwell peace, unbroken peace,

  And with war's terrible array I come

  To scatter havoc, like a listed foe!

  ODOWALSKY.

  Hereafter 'twill be time to think of that.

  DEMETRIUS.

  Thou feelest as a Pole, I am Moscow's son.

  It is the land to which I owe my life;

  Forgive me, thou dear soil, land of my home,

  Thou sacred boundary-pillar, which I clasp,

  Whereon my sire his broad-spread eagle graved,

  That I, thy son, with foreign foemen's arms,

  Invade the tranquil temple of thy peace.

  'Tis to reclaim my heritage I come,

  And the proud name that has been stolen from me.

  Here the Varegers, my forefathers, ruled,

  In lengthened line, for thirty generations;

  I am the last of all their lineage, snatched

  From murder by God's special providence.

  SCENE III.

  A Russian village. An open square before a church.

  The tocsin is heard. GLEB, ILIA, and TIMOSKA rush in,

  armed with hatchets.

  GLEB (entering from a house).

  Why are they running?

  ILIA (entering from another house).

  Who has tolled the bell.

  TIMOSKA.

  Neighbors, come forth! Come all, to council come!

  [Enter OLEG and IGOR, with many other peasants,

  women and children, who carry bundles.

  GLEB.

  Whence come ye hither with your wives and children?

  IGOR.

  Fly, fly! The Pole has fallen upon the land

  At Maromesk, and slaughters all he finds.

  OLEG.

  Fly into the interior-to strong towns!

  We've fired our cottages, there's not a soul

  Left in the village, and we're making now

  Up country for the army of the Czar.

  TIMOSKA.

  Here comes another troop of fugitives.

  [IWANSKA and PETRUSCHKA, with armed peasantry,

  enter on different sides.

  IWANSKA.

  Long live the Czar! The mighty prince Dmitri!

  GLEB.

  How! What is this!

  ILIA.

  What do you mean?

  TIMOSKA.

  Who are you?

  PETRUSCHKA.

  Join all who're loyal to our princely line!

  TIMOSKA.

  What means all this? There a whole village flies

  Up country to escape the Poles, while you

  Make for the very point whence these have fled,

  To join the standard of the country's foe!

  PETRUSCHKA.

  What foe? It is no foe that comes; it is

  The people's friend, the emperor's rightful heir.

  * * * * *

  The POSADMIK (the village judge) enters to read a manifesto by Demetrius. Vacillation of the inhabitants of the village between the two parties. The peasant women are the first to be won over to Demetrius, and turn the scale.

  Camp of DEMETRIUS. He is worsted in the first action, but the army of the Czar Boris conquers in a manner against its will, and does not follow up its advantages. Demetrius, in despair, is about to destroy himself, and is with difficulty prevented from doing so by Korela and Odowalsky. Overbearing demeanor of the Cossacks even to DEMETRIUS.

  Camp of the army of the CZAR BORIS. He is absent himself, and this injures his cause, as he is feared but not loved. His army is strong, but not to be rel
ied on. The leaders are not unanimous, and partly incline to the side of Demetrius from a variety of motives. One of their number, Soltikow, declares for him from conviction. His adherence is attended with the most important results; a large portion of the army deserts to DEMETRIUS.

  BORIS in Moscow. He still maintains his position as absolute ruler, and has faithful servants around him; but already he is discomposed by evil tidings. He is withheld from joining the army by apprehension of a rebellion in Moscow. He is also ashamed as Czar to enter the field in person against a traitor. Scene between him and the archbishop.

  Bad news pours in from all sides, and Boris' danger grows momently more imminent. He hears of the revolt of the peasantry and the provincial towns,-of the inactivity and mutiny of the army,-of the commotions in Moscow,-of the advance of Demetrius. Romanow, whom he has deeply wronged, arrives in Moscow. This gives rise to new apprehensions. Now come the tidings that the Boiars are flying to the camp of Demetrius, and that the whole army has gone over to him.

  BORIS and AXINIA. The Czar appears in a touching aspect as father, and in the dialogue with his daughter unfolds his inmost nature.

  BORIS has made his way to the throne by crime, but undertaken and fulfilled all the duties of a monarch; to the country he is a valuable prince and a true father of his people. It is only in his personal dealings with individuals that he is cunning, revengeful, and cruel. His spirit as well as his rank elevates him above all that surround him. The long possession of supreme power, the habit of ruling over men, and the despotic form of government, have so nursed his pride that it is impossible for him to outlive his greatness. He sees clearly what awaits him; but still he is Czar, and not degraded, though he resolves to die.

  He believes in forewarnings, and in his present mood things appear to him of significance which, on other occasions, he had despised. A particular circumstance, in which he seems to hear the voice of destiny, decides him.

  Shortly before his death his nature changes; he grows milder, even towards the messengers of evil, and is ashamed of the bursts of rage with which he had received them before. He permits the worst to be told to him, and even rewards the narrator.

  So soon as he learns the misfortune that seals his fate, he leaves the stage without further explanation, with composure and resignation. Shortly afterwards he returns in the habit of a monk, and removes his daughter from the sight of his last moments. She is to seek protection from insult in a cloister; his son, Feodor, as a child, will perhaps have less to fear. He takes poison, and enters a retired chamber to die in peace.

  General confusion at the tidings of the Czar's death. The Boiars form an imperial council and rule in the Kremlin. Romanow (afterwards Czar, and founder of the now ruling house) enters at the head of an armed force, swears, on the bosom of the Czar, an oath of allegiance to his son Feodor, and compels the Boiars to follow his example. Revenge and ambition are far from his soul; he pursues only justice. He loves Axinia without hope, and is, without knowing it, beloved by her in return.

  ROMANOW hastens to the army to secure it for the young Czar. Insurrection in Moscow, brought about by the adherents of Demetrius. The people drag the Boiars from their houses, make themselves masters of Feodor and Axinia-put them in prison, and send delegates to Demetrius.

  DEMETRIUS in Tula, at the pinnacle of success. The army is his own; the keys of numerous towns are brought to him. Moscow alone appears to offer resistance. He is mild and amiable, testifies a noble emotion at the intelligence of the death of Boris, pardons a detected conspiracy against his life, despises the servile adulations of the Russians, and is for sending them away. The Poles, on the other hand, by whom he is surrounded, are rude and violent, and treat the Russians with contempt. Demetrius longs for a meeting with his mother, and sends a messenger to Marina.

  Among the multitude of Russians who throng around Demetrius in Tula appears a man whom he at once recognizes; he is greatly delighted to see him. He bids all the rest withdraw, and so soon as he is alone with this man he thanks him, with full heart, as his preserver and benefactor. This person hints that Demetrius is under especial obligations to him, and to a greater extent than he is himself aware. Demetrius urges him to explain, and the assassin of the genuine Demetrius thereupon discloses the real facts of the case. For this murder he had received no recompense, but on the contrary had nothing but death to anticipate from Boris. Thirsting for revenge, he stumbled upon a boy, whose resemblance to the Czar Ivan struck him. This circumstance must be turned to account. He seized the boy, fled with him from Uglitsch, brought him to a monk, whom he succeeded in gaining over for his ends, and delivered to him the trinkets which he had himself taken from the murdered Demetrius. By means of this boy, whom he had never lost sight of, and whose steps he had attended upon all occasions without being observed, he is now revenged. His tool, the false Demetrius, rules over Russia in Boris' room.

  During this narration a mighty change comes over Demetrius. His silence is awful. In the moment of the highest rage and despair, the assassin drives him to the extreme of endurance, when with a defying and insolent air he demands his reward. Demetrius strikes him to the earth.

  Soliloquy of Demetrius. Internal conflict; but the feeling of the necessity for maintaining his position as Czar is triumphant.

  The delegates from Moscow arrive, and submit themselves to Demetrius. They are received gloomily, and with a menacing demeanor. Among them is the Patriarch. Demetrius deposes him from his dignity, and soon afterwards sentences to death a Russian of rank, who had questioned the authenticity of his birth.

  MARFA and OLGA await Demetrius under a magnificent tent. Marfa speaks of the approaching interview with more doubt and fear than hope, and trembles as the moment draws near which should assure her highest happiness. Olga speaks to her, herself without faith. During the long journey they have both had time to recall the whole circumstances; the first exultation had given place to reflection. The gloomy silence and the repulsive glances of the guards who surround the tent serve still further to augment their despondency.

  The trumpets sound. Marfa is irresolute whether she shall advance to meet Demetrius. Now he stands before her alone. The little that was left of hope in her heart altogether vanishes on seeing him. An unknown something steps between them-Nature does not speak-they are separated forever. The first impulse is an endeavor to approach; Marfa is the first to make a movement to recede. Demetrius observes it, and remains for a moment paralyzed. Significant silence.

  DEMETRIUS. Does thy heart say nothing? Dost thou not recognize thy blood in me?

  MARFA is silent.

  DEMETRIUS. The voice of nature is holy and free; I will neither constrain nor belie it. Had thy heart spoken at the first glance then had mine answered it; thou shouldst have found a pious, loving son in me. The claim of duty would have concurred with inclination and heartfelt affection. But if thou dost not feel as a mother for me, then, think as a princess, command thyself as a queen! Fate unexpectedly gave me to thee as a son; accept me as a gift of heaven. Though even I were not thy son, which I now appear to be, still I rob thy son of nothing. I stripped it from thy foe. Thee and thy blood have I avenged; I have delivered thee from the grave in which thou went entombed alive, and led thee back into the royal seat. That thy destiny is linked with mine thou knowest. With me thou standest, and with me must fall. All the people's eyes are upon us. I hate deception, and what I do not feel I may not show; but I do really feel a reverence for thee, and this feeling, which bends my knee before thee, comes from my heart.

  [Dumb show of MARFA, to indicate her internal emotion.

  DEMETRIUS. Make thy resolve! Let that which nature will not prompt be the free act of thy will! I ask no hypocrisy-no falsehood, from thee; I ask genuine feelings. Do not seem to be my mother, but be so. Throw the past from thee-grasp the present with thy whole heart! If I am not thy son yet I am the Czar-I have power and success upon my side. He who lies in his grave is dust; he has no heart to love thee, no eye to sm
ile upon thee. Turn to the living.

  [MARFA bursts into tears.

  DEMETRIUS. Oh, these golden drops are welcome to me. Let them flow! Show thyself thus to the people!

  [At a signal from DEMETRIUS the tent is thrown open, and the assembled Russians become spectators of this scene.

  Entrance of Demetrius into Moscow. Great splendor, but of a military kind. Poles and Cossacks compose the procession. Gloom and terror mingle with the demonstrations of joy. Distrust and misfortune surround the whole.

  Romanow, who came to the army too late, has returned to Moscow to protect Feodor and Axinia. It is all in vain; he is himself thrown into prison. Axinia flies to Marfa, and at her feet implores protection against the Poles. Here Demetrius sees her, and a violent and irresistible passion is kindled in his breast. Axinia detests him.

  DEMETRIUS as Czar. A fearful element sustains him, but he does not control it: he is urged on by the force of strange passions. His inward consciousness betokens a general distrust; he has no friend on whom he can rely. Poles and Cossacks, by their insolent licentiousness, injure him in the popular opinion. Even that which is creditable to him-his popular manners, simplicity, and contempt of stiff ceremonial, occasions dissatisfaction. Occasionally he offends, through inadvertency, the usages of the country. He persecutes the monks because he suffered severely under them. Moreover, he is not exempt from despotic caprices in the moments of offended pride. Odowalsky knows how to make himself at all times indispensable to him, removes the Russians to a distance, and maintains his overruling influence.