)
PALACE OF THE TSAR
The TSAREVICH is drawing a map.
PALACE OF THE TSAR
The TSAREVICH is drawing a map.
Pushkin - Boris Gudonov
And are the people
The better off? Ask them. Let the pretender
But promise them the old free right of transfer,
Then there'll be sport.
SHUISKY. Thou'rt right; but be advised;
Of this, of all things, for a time we'll speak
No word.
PUSHKIN. Assuredly, keep thine own counsel.
Thou art--a person of discretion; always
I am glad to commune with thee; and if aught
At any time disturbs me, I endure not
To keep it from thee; and, truth to tell, thy mead
And velvet ale today have so untied
My tongue. . . Farewell then, prince.
SHUISKY. Brother, farewell.
Farewell, my brother, till we meet again.
(He escorts PUSHKIN out.
)
PALACE OF THE TSAR
The TSAREVICH is drawing a map. The TSAREVNA. The NURSE of the Tsarevna
KSENIA. (Kisses a portrait. ) My dear bridegroom, comely
son of a king, not to me wast thou given, not to thy
affianced bride, but to a dark sepulchre in a strange
land; never shall I take comfort, ever shall I weep for
thee.
NURSE. Eh, tsarevna! A maiden weeps as the dew falls;
the sun will rise, will dry the dew. Thou wilt have
another bridegroom--and handsome and affable. My
charming child, thou wilt learn to love him, thou wilt
forget Ivan the king's son.
KSENIA. Nay, nurse, I will be true to him even in death.
(Boris enters. )
TSAR. What, Ksenia? What, my sweet one?
The better off? Ask them. Let the pretender
But promise them the old free right of transfer,
Then there'll be sport.
SHUISKY. Thou'rt right; but be advised;
Of this, of all things, for a time we'll speak
No word.
PUSHKIN. Assuredly, keep thine own counsel.
Thou art--a person of discretion; always
I am glad to commune with thee; and if aught
At any time disturbs me, I endure not
To keep it from thee; and, truth to tell, thy mead
And velvet ale today have so untied
My tongue. . . Farewell then, prince.
SHUISKY. Brother, farewell.
Farewell, my brother, till we meet again.
(He escorts PUSHKIN out.
)
PALACE OF THE TSAR
The TSAREVICH is drawing a map. The TSAREVNA. The NURSE of the Tsarevna
KSENIA. (Kisses a portrait. ) My dear bridegroom, comely
son of a king, not to me wast thou given, not to thy
affianced bride, but to a dark sepulchre in a strange
land; never shall I take comfort, ever shall I weep for
thee.
NURSE. Eh, tsarevna! A maiden weeps as the dew falls;
the sun will rise, will dry the dew. Thou wilt have
another bridegroom--and handsome and affable. My
charming child, thou wilt learn to love him, thou wilt
forget Ivan the king's son.
KSENIA. Nay, nurse, I will be true to him even in death.
(Boris enters. )
TSAR. What, Ksenia? What, my sweet one?