As if I had not, my
fathers!
Pushkin - Boris Gudonov
Seek its love, indeed!
I thought within my family to find
Solace; I thought to make my daughter happy
By wedlock. Like a tempest Death took off
Her bridegroom--and at once a stealthy rumour
Pronounced me guilty of my daughter's grief--
Me, me, the hapless father! Whoso dies,
I am the secret murderer of all;
I hastened Feodor's end, 'twas I that poisoned
My sister-queen, the lowly nun--all I!
Ah! Now I feel it; naught can give us peace
Mid worldly cares, nothing save only conscience!
Healthy she triumphs over wickedness,
Over dark slander; but if in her be found
A single casual stain, then misery.
With what a deadly sore my soul doth smart;
My heart, with venom filled, doth like a hammer
Beat in mine ears reproach; all things revolt me,
And my head whirls, and in my eyes are children
Dripping with blood; and gladly would I flee,
But nowhere can find refuge--horrible!
Pitiful he whose conscience is unclean!
TAVERN ON THE LITHUANIAN FRONTIER
MISSAIL and VARLAAM, wandering friars; GREGORY in secular attire; HOSTESS
HOSTESS. With what shall I regale you, my reverend
honoured guests?
VARLAAM. With what God sends, little hostess. Have you
no wine?
HOSTESS.
As if I had not, my fathers! I will bring it at
once. (Exit. )
MISSAIL. Why so glum, comrade? Here is that very
Lithuanian frontier which you so wished to reach.
GREGORY. Until I shall be in Lithuania, till then I shall not
Be content.
VARLAAM. What is it that makes you so fond of Lithuania!
Here are we, Father Missail and I, a sinner, when we fled
from the monastery, then we cared for nothing. Was it
Lithuania, was it Russia, was it fiddle, was it dulcimer?
All the same for us, if only there was wine. That's the
main thing!
MISSAIL. Well said, Father Varlaam.
I thought within my family to find
Solace; I thought to make my daughter happy
By wedlock. Like a tempest Death took off
Her bridegroom--and at once a stealthy rumour
Pronounced me guilty of my daughter's grief--
Me, me, the hapless father! Whoso dies,
I am the secret murderer of all;
I hastened Feodor's end, 'twas I that poisoned
My sister-queen, the lowly nun--all I!
Ah! Now I feel it; naught can give us peace
Mid worldly cares, nothing save only conscience!
Healthy she triumphs over wickedness,
Over dark slander; but if in her be found
A single casual stain, then misery.
With what a deadly sore my soul doth smart;
My heart, with venom filled, doth like a hammer
Beat in mine ears reproach; all things revolt me,
And my head whirls, and in my eyes are children
Dripping with blood; and gladly would I flee,
But nowhere can find refuge--horrible!
Pitiful he whose conscience is unclean!
TAVERN ON THE LITHUANIAN FRONTIER
MISSAIL and VARLAAM, wandering friars; GREGORY in secular attire; HOSTESS
HOSTESS. With what shall I regale you, my reverend
honoured guests?
VARLAAM. With what God sends, little hostess. Have you
no wine?
HOSTESS.
As if I had not, my fathers! I will bring it at
once. (Exit. )
MISSAIL. Why so glum, comrade? Here is that very
Lithuanian frontier which you so wished to reach.
GREGORY. Until I shall be in Lithuania, till then I shall not
Be content.
VARLAAM. What is it that makes you so fond of Lithuania!
Here are we, Father Missail and I, a sinner, when we fled
from the monastery, then we cared for nothing. Was it
Lithuania, was it Russia, was it fiddle, was it dulcimer?
All the same for us, if only there was wine. That's the
main thing!
MISSAIL. Well said, Father Varlaam.
