No More Learning

All is at end for me--mine eyes grow dark,
I feel the coldness of the grave--

(Enter the PATRIARCH and prelates; behind them all
the boyars lead the TSARITSA by the hand; the
TSAREVNA is sobbing. )

Who's there?
Ah, 'tis the vestment--so! The holy tonsure--
The hour has struck. The tsar becomes a monk,
And the dark sepulchre will be my cell.
Wait yet a little, my lord Patriarch,
I still am tsar. Listen to me, boyars:
To this my son I now commit the tsardom;
Do homage to Feodor. Basmanov, thou,
And ye, my friends, on the grave's brink I pray you
To serve my son with zeal and rectitude!
As yet he is both young and uncorrupted.
Swear ye?

BOYARS. We swear.

TSAR. I am content. Forgive me
Both my temptations and my sins, my wilful
And secret injuries.
--Now, holy father,
Approach thou; I am ready for the rite.

(The rite of the tonsure begins. The women are
carried out swooning. )




A TENT

BASMANOV leads in PUSHKIN

BASMANOV. Here enter, and speak freely. So to me
He sent thee.

PUSHKIN. He doth offer thee his friendship
And the next place to his in the realm of Moscow.

BASMANOV. But even thus highly by Feodor am I
Already raised; the army I command;
For me he scorned nobility of rank
And the wrath of the boyars. I have sworn to him
Allegiance.

PUSHKIN. To the throne's lawful successor
Allegiance thou hast sworn; but what if one
More lawful still be living?

BASMANOV. Listen, Pushkin:
Enough of that; tell me no idle tales!
I know the man.