Although a certain mug had passed from hand to hand several times, a strange silence reigned among this crowd. The brigands finished their dinner; one after another rose and said a prayer; some dispersed among the shacks, others strolled away into the forest or lay down to sleep, according to the Russian custom.
The sentinel finished his work, shook his garment, gazed admiringly at the patch, stuck the needle in his sleeve, sat astride the cannon, and began to sing a melancholy old song at the top of his lungs:
“Green boughs, do not murmur, be still, Mother Forest, Hinder me not from thinking my thoughts!’
At that moment the door of one of the shacks opened, and an old woman in a white cap, neatly and even primly dressed, appeared upon the threshold,” Enough of that, Styopka,” she said angrily. “The master is resting, and yet you must go on bawling like that; you have neither conscience nor pity.”
“I beg pardon, Yegorovna,” replied Styopka. “I won’t do it any more. Let our good master rest and get well.”
The old woman withdrew into the hut, and Styopka began to pace to and fro upon the earthworks.
Within the shack, from which the old woman had emerged, lay the wounded Dubrovsky upon an army cot behind a partition. Before him, upon a small table, lay his pistols, and a sword above the head of the bed. Rich carpets covered the floor and walls of the mud- hut. In the corner was a lady’s silver toilet set and mirror. Dubrovsky held in his hand an open book, but his eyes were closed, and the old woman, peeping at him from behind the partition, could not tell whether he was asleep or only lost in thought.
Suddenly Dubrovsky started. The fort was roused by an alarm, and Styopka thrust his head in through the window.
“Vladimir Andreyevich!” he cried; “our men are signaling — they are on our track!”
Dubrovsky leaped from his bed, seized his arms and came out of the shack. The brigands were noisily crowding together in the inclosure, but when he appeared a deep silence fell.
“Is everyone here?” asked Dubrovsky.
“Everyone except the sentries,” was the reply.
“To your places!” cried Dubrovsky, and each of the brigands took his appointed place.
At that moment, three of the sentries ran up to the gate of the fort. Dubrovsky went to meet them.
“What is it?” he asked.
“The soldiers are in the forest,” was the reply; “they are surrounding us.”
Dubrovsky ordered the gate to be locked, and then went himself to examine the cannon. In the wood could be heard the sound of several voices, every moment drawing nearer and nearer. The brigands waited in silence. Suddenly three or four soldiers appeared out of the forest, but immediately fell back again, firing their guns as a signal to their comrades.
“Prepare for battle!” cried Dubrovsky. There was a movement among the brigands, then all was silent again.
Then the noise of an approaching column was heard; arms glittered among the trees, and about a hundred and fifty soldiers dashed out of the forest and rushed with a wild shout toward the earthworks. Dubrovsky applied the match to the cannon; the shot was successful — one soldier had his head torn off, and two others were wounded. The troops were thrown into confusion, but the officer in command rushed forward, the soldiers followed him and jumped down into the ditch. The brigands fired down at them with muskets and pistols, and then, with axes in their hands, they began to defend the earthworks, up which the infuriated soldiers were now climbing, leaving twenty of their comrades wounded in the ditch below. A hand to hand struggle began. The soldiers were already upon the earthworks, the brigands were beginning to give way; but Dubrovsky advanced toward the officer in command, placed his pistol at his breast, and fired. The officer fell over backward. Several soldiers raised him in their arms and hastened to carry him into the forest; the others, having lost their chief, stopped fighting.
The emboldened brigands took advantage of this moment of hesitation, and surging forward, hurled their assailants back into the ditch. The besiegers began to run; the brigands with fierce yells started in pursuit of them. The victory was decisive. Dubrovsky, trusting to the complete confusion of the enemy, stopped his men and shut himself up in the fortress, doubled the sentinels, forbade anyone to absent himself, and ordered the wounded to be picked up.
This last event drew the serious attention of the government to Dubrovsky’s exploits. Information was obtained of his whereabouts, and a detachment of soldiers was sent to take him, dead or alive. Several of his band were captured, and from these it was ascertained that Dubrovsky was no longer among them. A few days after the battle we have just described, he had collected all his followers and informed them that it was his intention to leave them for ever, and advised them, too, to change their mode of life:
“You have become rich under my command. Each of you has a passport with which he will be able to make his way safely to some distant province, where he can pass the rest of his life in ease and honest labor. But you are all rascals, and probably do not wish to abandon your trade.”
Thereupon he had left them, taking with him only one of his men. Nobody knew what became of him. At first the truth of this account was doubted, for the devotion of the brigands to their chief was well known, and it was supposed that they had concocted the story to secure his safety; but after events confirmed their statement. The terrible visits, burnings, and robberies ceased; the roads again became safe. According to another report, Dubrovsky had escaped abroad.
The Plays
The Alexander Pushkin Museum and Memorial Apartment is close to Nevsky Prospekt, Saint Petersburg. The museum is housed in Pushkin’s apartment where he lived between 1836 and 1837, and died after being wounded in a duel. Following the outburst of nationwide grief, Pushkin’s apartment was carefully preserved.
BORIS GODUNOV
Translated by Alfred Hayes
This play was written in 1825 and originally published in 1831, but it was not approved for performance by the censor until 1866. It concerns the eponymous Russian ruler, who reigned as Tsar from 1598 to 1605. Consisting of 25 scenes and written mostly in blank verse., the play introduces the character Boris Godunov as the most noted member of an ancient, though now extinct, family of Tatar origin, hailing from the Horde to Kostroma in the early 14th century. Godunov was descended from the Tatarian Prince Chet, who went from the Golden Horde to Russia and founded the Ipatiev Monastery in Kostroma. Godunov’s career began whilst in the court of Ivan the Terrible and in 1570 he took part in the Serpeisk campaign as an archer of the guard. The following year, he became an oprichnik — a member of Ivan’s personal guard and secret police.
Boris Fyodorovich Godunov (1551-1605), who was the de facto regent of Russia from c. 1585 to 1598 and then the first non-Rurikid tsar from 1598 to 1605.
CONTENTS
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
PALACE OF THE KREMLIN
THE RED SQUARE
THE VIRGIN’S FIELD
THE PALACE OF THE KREMLIN
NIGHT
FENCE OF THE MONASTERY*
PALACE OF THE PATRIARCH
PALACE OF THE TSAR
TAVERN ON THE LITHUANIAN FRONTIER
MOSCOW. SHUISKY’S HOUSE
PALACE OF THE TSAR
CRACOW. HOUSE OF VISHNEVETSKY
CASTLE OF THE GOVERNOR
A SUITE OF LIGHTED ROOMS.
NIGHT
THE LITHUANIAN FRONTIER
THE COUNCIL OF THE TSAR
A PLAIN NEAR NOVGOROD SEVERSK
OPEN SPACE IN FRONT OF THE CATHEDRAL IN MOSCOW
SYEVSK
A FOREST
MOSCOW. PALACE OF THE TSAR
A TENT
PUBLIC SQUARE IN MOSCOW
THE KREMLIN. HOUSE OF BORIS
A scene from the play
Another scene from the play
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
BORIS GODUNOV, afterwards Tsar.
PRINCE SHUISKY, Russian noble.
PRINCE VOROTIN
SKY, Russian noble.
SHCHELKALOV, Russian Minister of State.
FATHER PIMEN, an old monk and chronicler.
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.
*The list of Dramatis Personae which does not appear in the
original has been added for the convenience of the reader —
A.H.
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
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!
&
nbsp; 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.)