Works of Alexander Pushkin (106 page)

FEODOR. (On his knees.) No, no; live on, my father, and reign long;
Without thee both the folk and we will perish.

TSAR. 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.

PUSHKIN.      Russia and Lithuania
Have long acknowledged him to be Dimitry;
But, for the rest, I do not vouch for it.
Perchance he is indeed the real Dimitry;
Perchance but a pretender; only this
I know, that soon or late the son of Boris
Will yield Moscow to him.

BASMANOV.               So long as I
Stand by the youthful tsar, so long he will not
Forsake the throne. We have enough of troops,
Thank God! With victory I will inspire them.
And whom will you against me send, the Cossack
Karel or Mnishek? Are your numbers many?
In all, eight thousand.

PUSHKIN.              You mistake; they will not
Amount even to that. I say myself
Our army is mere trash, the Cossacks only
Rob villages, the Poles but brag and drink;
The Russians — what shall I say? — with you I’ll not
Dissemble; but, Basmanov, dost thou know
Wherein our strength lies? Not in the army, no.
Nor Polish aid, but in opinion — yes,
In popular opinion. Dost remember
The triumph of Dimitry, dost remember
His peaceful conquests, when, without a blow
The docile towns surrendered, and the mob
Bound the recalcitrant leaders? Thou thyself
Saw’st it; was it of their free-will our troops
Fought with him? And when did they so? Boris
Was then supreme. But would they now? — Nay, nay,
It is too late to blow on the cold embers
Of this dispute; with all thy wits and firmness
Thou’lt not withstand him. Were’t not better for thee
To furnish to our chief a wise example,
Proclaim Dimitry tsar, and by that act
Bind him your friend for ever? How thinkest thou?

BASMANOV. Tomorrow thou shalt know.

PUSHKIN.                          Resolve.

BASMANOV.                                Farewell.

PUSHKIN. Ponder it well, Basmanov.

(Exit.)

BASMANOV.                        He is right.
Everywhere treason ripens; what shall I do?
Wait, that the rebels may deliver me
In bonds to the Otrepiev? Had I not better
Forestall the stormy onset of the flood,
Myself to — ah! But to forswear mine oath!
Dishonour to deserve from age to age!
The trust of my young sovereign to requite
With horrible betrayal! ‘Tis a light thing
For a disgraced exile to meditate
Sedition and conspiracy; but I?
Is it for me, the favourite of my lord? —
But death — but power — the people’s miseries...

(He ponders.)

Here! Who is there? (Whistles.) A horse here!
Sound the muster!

PUBLIC SQUARE IN MOSCOW

PUSHKIN enters, surrounded by the people

THE PEOPLE. The tsarevich a boyar hath sent to us.
Let’s hear what the boyar will tell us. Hither!
Hither!

PUSHKIN. (On a platform.) Townsmen of Moscow! The tsarevich
Bids me convey his greetings to you. (He bows.) Ye know
How Divine Providence saved the tsarevich
From out the murderer’s hands; he went to punish
His murderer, but God’s judgment hath already
Struck down Boris. All Russia hath submitted
Unto Dimitry; with heartfelt repentance
Basmanov hath himself led forth his troops
To swear allegiance to him. In love, in peace
Dimitry comes to you. Would ye, to please
The house of Godunov, uplift a hand
Against the lawful tsar, against the grandson
Of Monomakh?

THE PEOPLE. Not we.

PUSHKIN.          Townsmen of Moscow!
The world well knows how much ye have endured
Under the rule of the cruel stranger; ban,
Dishonour, executions, taxes, hardships,
Hunger — all these ye have experienced.
Dimitry is disposed to show you favour,
Courtiers, boyars, state-servants, soldiers, strangers,
Merchants — and every honest man. Will ye
Be stubborn without reason, and in pride
Flee from his kindness? But he himself is coming
To his ancestral throne with dreadful escort.
Provoke not ye the tsar to wrath, fear God,
And swear allegiance to the lawful ruler;
Humble yourselves; forthwith send to Dimitry
The Metropolitan, deacons, boyars,
And chosen men, that they may homage do
To their lord and father.

(Exit. Clamour of the People.)

THE PEOPLE.             What is to be said?
The boyar spake truth. Long live Dimitry, our father!

A PEASANT ON THE PLATFORM. People! To the Kremlin!
To the Royal palace!
The whelp of Boris go bind!

THE PEOPLE. (Rushing in a crowd.)
                        Bind, drown him! Hail
Dimitry! Perish the race of Godunov!

THE KREMLIN. HOUSE OF BORIS

A GUARD on the Staircase. FEODOR at a Window

BEGGAR. Give alms, for Christ’s sake.

GUARD. Go away; it is forbidden to speak to the prisoners.

FEODOR. Go, old man, I am poorer than thou; thou art at
liberty.

(KSENIA, veiled, also comes to the window.)

ONE OF THE PEOPLE. Brother and sister — poor children, like
birds in a cage.

SECOND PERSON. Are you going to pity them? Accursed
Family!

FIRST PERSON. The father was a villain, but the children are
innocent.

SECOND PERSON. The apple does not fall far from the
apple-tree.

KSENIA. Dear brother! Dear brother! I think the boyars
are coming to us.

FEODOR. That is Golitsin, Mosalsky. I do not know the
others.

KSENIA. Ah! Dear brother, my heart sinks.

(GOLITSIN, MOSALSKY, MOLCHANOV, and SHEREFEDINOV;
behind them three archers.)

THE PEOPLE. Make way, make way; the boyars come.
(They enter the house.)

ONE OF THE PEOPLE. What have they come for?

SECOND. Most like to make Feodor Godunov take the oath.

THIRD. Very like. Hark! What a noise in the house!
What an uproar! They are fighting!

THE PEOPLE. Do you hear? A scream! That was a
woman’s voice. We will go up. We will go up! — The
doors are fastened — the cries cease — the noise continues.

(The doors are thrown open. MOSALSKY appears on
the staircase.)

MOSALSKY. People! Maria Godunov and her son Feodor
have poisoned themselves. We have seen their dead
bodies.

(The People are silent with horror.)

Why are ye silent? Cry, Long live the tsar Dimitry
Ivanovich!

(The People are speechless.)
 

THE END

THE STONE GUEST

Translated by T. Keane

This poetic drama is based on the Spanish legend of Don Juan and was written in 1830 as part of Pushkin’s collection of four short plays titled
The Little Tragedies
. Unlike most traditional adaptations of the Don Juan tale, which tend to use a farcical and comedic tone, Pushkin’s play is more in the style of a romantic tragedy. It is now believed that
The Stone Guest
was never meant for the stage, being a play with little action, except for a duel. The poet is believed to have been inspired after seeing the premiere of a Russian-language version of Mozart’s
Don Giovanni.
Pushkin borrowed certain elements from the libretto, though he made the story his own by adopting the tragic tone.

‘Pushkin’ by Orest Kiprensky, 1827

CONTENTS

SCENE I

SCENE II

SCENE III

SCENE IV

THE STONE GUEST

LEPORELLO.

O statua gentilissima
Del gran Commendatore!...
Ah, Padrone!
Don Giovanni

SCENE I

DON JUAN AND LEPORELLO

DON JUAN. Here we’ll await the night. — And so at last
We’ve reached the portals of Madrid, and soon
Along the well-known streets shall I be flitting,
Mustache and brows concealed by cloak and hat.
What think you? Could I e’er be recognized?

LEPORELLO. Ah, sure ‘tis hard to recognize Don Juan!
There are so many like him.

DON JUAN. — Do you jest?
Well, who will recognize me?

LEPORELLO. — Why, the first
Watchman you meet, or gypsy or drunk fiddler,
Or your own kind — some saucy cavalier,
With flowing cloak and sword under his arm.

DON JUAN. What matter, if I’m recognized! Provided
I meet not with the king himself, I fear
No other soul in all Madrid beside.

LEPORELLO. To-morrow it will reach the king’s own ear
That Don Juan is in Madrid again,
Without authority returned from exile.
And then what will he do?

DON JUAN. — He’ll send me back.
Dear me, they won’t cut off my head, you know.
No crime have I committed ‘gainst the State!
He sent me off for very love of me,
In order that the murdered man’s relations
Might cease to worry me.

LEPORELLO. — Just so, just so!
If only you had stayed there quietly!

DON JUAN. Your humble servant thanks you for the
pleasure!
I all but died of boredom there. What people!
And what a land! The sky?... A pall of smoke;
The women? Why, I never would exchange —
Mark what I say, my foolish Leporello —
The humblest peasant-girl in Andalusia
For all their leading beauties — that I wouldn’t.
At first, indeed, these women took my fancy
With their blue eyes and that white skin of theirs,
Their modesty — but most, their novelty;
But, thank the Lord, I soon had sized them up —
Saw that ‘twas sin to deal with them at all,
There isn’t any life in them — they’re all
But waxen dolls... whereas our girls!... But
hist!
We seem to know this place; you recognize it?

LEPORELLO. HOW could I fail to? I remember well
The convent of St. Anthony. You used
To come on visits here, and I would hold
The horses in this grove; a cursèd duty,
I do confess! More pleasantly you spent
Your time here than did I, forsooth.

DON JUAN. (
Pensively
.) — Poor Inez!
She is no more! And how I did adore her!

LEPORELLO. Inez — the black-eyed girl?... Oh, I re-
member!
For three long months you courted her in vain;
‘Twas only through the devil’s help you won.

DON JUAN. ‘Twas in July... at night. I used to find
Strange pleasure in her melancholy gaze
And in her ashen lips. A curious thing!
But you, it seems, did not consider her
A beauty. And, in fact, there wasn’t much
Of real beauty in her. But her eyes,
Her eyes alone, her glance too... such a glance
I never since have met. And then her voice
Was soft and weak, as though she were not well...
Her husband was a rough and heartless black-
guard —
I realized too late... Alas, poor Inez!...