ROUZYA. At once. Today your father counts upon you.

'Twas not for naught the young tsarevich saw you; He could not hide his rapture; wounded he is Already; so it only needs to deal him A resolute blow, and instantly, my lady, He'll be in love with you. 'Tis now a month Since, quitting Cracow, heedless of the war And throne of Moscow, he has feasted here, Your guest, enraging Poles alike and Russians.

Heavens! Shall I ever live to see the day?-- Say, you will not, when to his capital Dimitry leads the queen of Moscow, say You'll not forsake me?

MARINA. Dost thou truly think I shall be queen?

ROUZYA. Who, if not you? Who here Dares to compare in beauty with my mistress?

The race of Mnishek never yet has yielded To any. In intellect you are beyond All praise.--Happy the suitor whom your glance Honours with its regard, who wins your heart-- Whoe'er he be, be he our king, the dauphin Of France, or even this our poor tsarevich G.o.d knows who, G.o.d knows whence!

MARINA. The very son Of the tsar, and so confessed by the whole world.

ROUZYA. And yet last winter he was but a servant In the house of Vishnevetsky.

MARINA. He was hiding.

ROUZYA. I do not question it: but still do you know What people say about him? That perhaps He is a deacon run away from Moscow, In his own district a notorious rogue.

MARINA. What nonsense!

ROUZYA. O, I do not credit it!

I only say he ought to bless his fate That you have so preferred him to the others.

WAITING-WOMAN. (Runs in.) The guests have come already.

MARINA. There you see; You're ready to chatter silliness till daybreak.

Meanwhile I am not dressed--

ROUZYA. Within a moment 'Twill be quite ready.

(The Waiting-women bustle.)

MARINA. (Aside.) I must find out all.

A SUITE OF LIGHTED ROOMS.

VISHNEVETSKY, MNISHEK

MNISHEK. With none but my Marina doth he speak, With no one else consorteth--and that business Looks dreadfully like marriage. Now confess, Didst ever think my daughter would be a queen?

VISHNEVETSKY. 'Tis wonderful.--And, Mnishek, didst thou think My servant would ascend the throne of Moscow?

MNISHEK. And what a girl, look you, is my Marina.

I merely hinted to her: "Now, be careful!

Let not Dimitry slip"--and lo! Already He is completely tangled in her toils.

(The band plays a Polonaise. The PRETENDER and MARINA advance as the first couple.)

MARINA. (Sotto voce to Dimitry.) Tomorrow evening at eleven, beside The fountain in the avenue of lime-trees.

(They walk off. A second couple.)

CAVALIER. What can Dimitry see in her?

DAME. How say you?

She is a beauty.

CAVALIER. Yes, a marble nymph; Eyes, lips, devoid of life, without a smile.

(A fresh couple.)

DAME. He is not handsome, but his eyes are pleasing, And one can see he is of royal birth.

(A fresh couple.)

DAME. When will the army march?

CAVALIER. When the tsarevich Orders it; we are ready; but 'tis clear The lady Mnishek and Dimitry mean To keep us prisoners here.

DAME. A pleasant durance.

CAVALIER. Truly, if you...

(They walk off; the rooms become empty.)

MNISHEK. We old ones dance no longer; The sound of music lures us not; we press not Nor kiss the hands of charmers--ah! My friend, I've not forgotten the old pranks! Things now Are not what once they were, what once they were!

Youth, I'll be sworn, is not so bold, nor beauty So lively; everything--confess, my friend-- Has somehow become dull. So let us leave them; My comrade, let us go and find a flask Of old Hungarian overgrown with mould; Let's bid my butler open an old bottle, And in a quiet corner, tete-a-tete, Let's drain a draught, a stream as thick as fat; And while we're so engaged, let's think things over.

Let us go, brother.

VISHNEVETSKY. Yes, my friend, let's go.

NIGHT

THE GARDEN. THE FOUNTAIN

PRETENDER. (Enters.) Here is the fountain; hither will she come.

I was not born a coward; I have seen Death near at hand, and face to face with death My spirit hath not blenched. A life-long dungeon Hath threatened me, I have been close pursued, And yet my spirit quailed not, and by boldness I have escaped captivity. But what Is this which now constricts my breath? What means This overpowering tremor, or this quivering Of tense desire? No, this is fear. All day I have waited for this secret meeting, pondered On all that I should say to her, how best I might enmesh Marina's haughty mind, Calling her queen of Moscow. But the hour Has come--and I remember naught, I cannot Recall the speeches I have learned by rote; Love puts imagination to confusion-- But something there gleamed suddenly--a rustling; Hush--no, it was the moon's deceitful light, It was the rustling of the breeze.

MARINA. (Enters.) Tsarevich!

PRETENDER. 'Tis she. Now all the blood in me stands still.

MARINA. Dimitry! Is it thou?