No More Learning

All told
Will there be thirty thousand?

PRISONER. Yes; 'twill run
Even to fifty thousand.

(The Pretender reflects; those around him glance at
one another. )

PRETENDER. Well! Of me
What say they in your camp?

PRISONER. Your graciousness
They speak of; say that thou, Sire, (be not wrath),
Art a thief, but a fine fellow.

PRETENDER. (Laughing. ) Even so
I'll prove myself to them in deed. My friends,
We will not wait for Shuisky; I wish you joy;
Tomorrow, battle.

(Exit. )

ALL.
Long life to Dimitry!

A POLE. Tomorrow, battle! They are fifty thousand,
And we scarce fifteen thousand. He is mad!

ANOTHER. That's nothing, friend. A single Pole can challenge
Five hundred Muscovites.

PRISONER. Yes, thou mayst challenge!
But when it comes to fighting, then, thou braggart,
Thou'lt run away.

POLE. If thou hadst had a sword,
Insolent prisoner, then (pointing to his sword) with this I'd soon
Have vanquished thee.

PRISONER. A Russian can make shift
Without a sword; how like you this (shows his fist), you fool?

(The Pole looks at him haughtily and departs in
silence.