I am Dimitry, I
tsarevich!
Pushkin - Boris Gudonov
MONK. If I were young as thou, if these grey hairs
Had not already streaked my beard--Dost take me?
GREGORY. Not I.
MONK. Hearken; our folk are dull of brain,
Easy of faith, and glad to be amazed
By miracles and novelties. The boyars
Remember Godunov as erst he was,
Peer to themselves; and even now the race
Of the old Varyags is loved by all. Thy years
Match those of the tsarevich. If thou hast
Cunning and hardihood--Dost take me now?
GREGORY. I take thee.
MONK. Well, what say'st thou?
GREGORY. 'Tis resolved.
I am Dimitry, I tsarevich!
MONK. Give me
Thy hand, my bold young friend. Thou shalt be tsar!
PALACE OF THE PATRIARCH
PATRIARCH, ABBOT of the Chudov Monastery
PATRIARCH. And he has run away, Father Abbot?
ABBOT. He has run away, holy sovereign, now three days ago.
PATRIARCH. Accursed rascal! What is his origin?
ABBOT. Of the family of the Otrepievs, of the lower nobility
of Galicia; in his youth he took the tonsure, no one
knows where, lived at Suzdal, in the Ephimievsky
monastery, departed from there, wandered to various
convents, finally arrived at my Chudov fraternity;
but I, seeing that he was still young and inexperienced,
entrusted him at the outset to Father Pimen, an old man,
kind and humble. And he was very learned, read our
chronicle, composed canons for the holy brethren; but,
to be sure, instruction was not given to him from the
Lord God--
PATRIARCH. Ah, those learned fellows! What a thing to
say, "I shall be tsar in Moscow.
