 | The False Demetrius |  |
ACT IV.
A magnificent Chamber in the Palace.Irene is discovered; she rises as the curtain is drawn up, and advances.
Iren.
So! all is finish'd, and Demetrius reigns:
The earth throws up her dead; the buried corpse
Starts into being, and is made the monarch
Of those, who were his murderers. 'Tis well!
If so Heav'n wills it, let the mystery pass.
Yet blood shall follow, for Suiski flies,
And his ambition must disturb the world,
Fly where he will. Sad times are coming on
For thee, my brother; and for me what hope,
But that I may be doom'd to some lone cell,
List'ning no sounds but those of pious prayers,
And virgin voices chanting midnight hymns.
An Officer of the court enters.
Offi.
Illustrious lady, I appear before you
With a petition (so I'm charg'd to term it)
From our new Czar Demetrius, who requests
To pay his court to you.
Iren.
What do you mean?
Must I interpret this as meant in mockery,
Or did Demetrius seriously enjoin you
To announce him in those words?
Offi.
Suspect me not.
I faithfully report the very words,
As I received them from his royal lips.
He waits your answer—
Oh, be speedy then!
Let not his royal courtesy be put
To further trial—Say, that I expect,
With most profound submission, his commands.
[Exit Officer.
What must I think of this mysterious man?
The mild and gentle semblance he assumes
May be put on to win the hearts of men,
Who crouch'd beneath my father's iron sway.
It may—Till fortune shall have fix'd his power,
It may be policy to wear a mask;
But if it be his nature to be cruel,
He'll soon throw off that mask—And see, he comes—
Demetrius enters.
Dem.
I've ask'd this interview, tho' I confess,
'Tis out of season to intrude upon you;
For sorrow should be sacred, and the daughter
Of an unburied father should possess
The sabbath of her mourning unprofan'd.
Iren.
You conceive rightly, sir, it was my wish.
Dem.
Yes, royal lady, I can well believe
How hateful above all men I must be,
For having robb'd you of those splendid hopes
Which, till my fortune threw a cloud before them,
Beam'd with such dazzling brightness. Yet I hope,
That so much of your hatred, as results
From fear and terror, you will let me banish
By taking heav'n to witness, that my heart
Cannot conceive a thought to harm Irene.
Iren.
Heav'n only knows the heart.
Dem.
I cannot wonder
That you are slow to credit him for truth,
Whose very essence you are taught to think
I stand prejudg'd—but noble minds, like your's,
In candour will confess, that were I false,
I should be cruel too, and, having power,
Use it as tyrants and usurpers do.
Iren.
Mercy should be the attribute of kings,
By whatsoever title they may reign.
Dem.
Sav'd by the hand of Providence from death,
And after fourteen years of painful exile
At length restor'd, I have forgiv'n all wrongs
Done to myself, and in the conscious sense
How mercifully Heav'n hath dealt with me,
Am purpos'd whereso'er my power extends,
My mercy shall go with it. Now, fair princess,
If this avouchment set your mind at peace,
I have fulfill'd the purpose of my visit,
And shall withdraw an object from your sight,
Which I can plainly see that you regard
With terror and distrust.
Iren.
O, say not that!
You've giv'n auspicious promise to the world
Of a benignant nature, royal sir,
By your compassionate and generous care
Of my unhappy brother.
Dem.
Ah, that brother,
Had there been no Demetrius in the world,
Was never born to reign; therefore to him,
Who suffers little loss, I may have made
A competent atonement; but to you,
To you, Irene, form'd to grace a throne,
The disappointment, your ambition feels,
Must be too deep, and I despair of pardon.
Iren.
What pardon can the Lord of Russia ask
Of me, who only by his mercy live?
Me, too unworthy to deserve a throne,
And much too unambitious to desire it.
That you're unworthy to possess a throne
Is what I'll hear from no one but yourself;
That you are not ambitious to partake it,
Till my short reign be past, that I believe:
But when my star shall set, yours will ascend,
And you will reign: It is your destiny—
Nay, start not, when I prophecy so fair!
Iren.
Ah, spare me, sir! Your anger let me feel,
If that I merit—not your mockery!
Dem.
Banish suspicion; you alike mistake
My nature and your own; I cannot mock you,
And you cannot deserve it. Hear me, now,
For I am serious—Though I mount the throne
Arm'd with such means as might secure my power,
Yet will I rather singly brave my fate,
And combat all the peril I foresee,
Than ask of you what you ought not to grant,
Nor I t' accept—A hand without a heart.
Now be sincere, Irene—Do I know you?
Iren.
I hope you are too generous to exact
An answer to that question.
Dem.
It is answer'd.
Too well I know where you bestow'd that treasure,
Which might have bought tranquillity and peace
For me and for the multitudes, that form
This mighty empire; nor am I to seek
For him, whose factious spirit is at work
To mesh me in his toils.
Iren.
Believe it not.
Let not suspicion taint your nobler thoughts;
There's no such traitor.
Dem.
Am I then deceiv'd,
And do I wrongfully accuse Suiski?
Is it by my command he has recall'd
The army of the Ukraine from their march,
Array'd them, bought them with the public money,
Leaving me nothing but the empty coffers?
And is he now approaching to the gates
Of this devoted city for my service,
To do me homage? Is the army mine,
Or his, who pays, maintains it, and commands it?
And for what purpose?—To confirm my power,
Or to erect his own?—
Iren.
What can I say?
What to these various charges can I plead
But that you now behold me at your mercy,
Your hostage for the loyalty of him,
Whom you suspect of treason?
Dem.
You my hostage!
Irene, no! That policy I leave
To tyrants and usurpers. You are free,
Free as the air you breathe; you shall not pledge
One moment of your freedom for Suiski:
When all the nobles moved me to arrest him,
When at a word I might have stript him bare
Of power to harm me, for your sake I spared him;
And if by sparing him I shall have drawn
Death on myself, my enemies shall own
I had my country's happiness at heart,
When I left you, so worthy to succeed
To that imperial throne, from which I fell.
[Exit.
Iren.
What is this man? Or is he more than man?
He speaks like one inspir'd, and seems to have
Fore-knowledge of his fate. I've done him wrong:
He's no impostor; he is true Demetrius.
Suiski has deceived me: So I'll tell him;
This instant I'll forbid him to advance.
Rebels at his soul's peril, and defies
Heaven's vengeance, which no traitor can escape.
[Exit.
An Apartment in the House of Michael Merowitz.
Michael followed by a Servant.
Mic.
Harkye, fellow, who are all these people
assembled in my ante-chamber, and what are
they waiting for?
Ser.
To pay their compliments to you, and
entreat your favour.
Mic.
To pay their compliments!—pay 'em
their fees, that's all the favour they entreat of
me.
Ser.
Sir, you mistake; they are persons of
high rank and respectability; they want no
fees.
Mic.
I am glad to hear it; I shall be the
sooner rid of them. So, d'ye see, present my
compliments to them in return, and say I have
the honour to wish them a very good afternoon
—What do you stare at? I have said it. Disappear.
[Exit Servant.]
By the life of me, there
is more trouble in being a great man than I was
aware of.
A Clerk enters, carrying papers.
Mic.
Who are you? What do you come here
for? Don't you know this house is mine?
Clerk.
I know it is your house.
Mic.
Then why do you enter it without my
leave?
I am commanded by his Czarish Majesty
to put this deed of gift into your hands,
together with this order on his treasurer for
certain monies.
Mic.
I am glad to hear they are certain. Let
me see 'em. Are you the treasurer?
Clerk.
No, sir, I treasure nothing but the
favours, that generous gentlemen bestow upon
me, when I attend them by the Czar's command.
Mic.
Humph! Is this all you have in command
from the Czar?
Clerk.
This is all.
Mic.
Are you quite sure there is nothing
overlook'd?
Clerk.
Perfectly sure.
Mic.
Recollect yourself. Search your pockets.
Clerk.
Upon the honour of a gentleman, I
have no one article in charge to give you more
than I have now delivered.
Mic.
Good day to you!
Clerk.
Humph! nothing else?
Mic.
Nothing else, upon the honour of a gentleman.
Fare you well!
[Exit Clerk.]
An arrant
shark—I'm fairly rid of him. But hold! Let
me look a little at these papers. I am afraid
my old companion is rather alter'd by his
sudden elevation; yes, he's an alter'd man;
but great heights will turn men giddy; perhaps
I find something of that sort in myself
just now—Hah! here's a paper in his own
hand-writing—This may edify. I'll read it—
“Michael Merowitz,
“I have given you a house, well furnished
and appointed, with monies, lands,
and vassals, to support it. I have made you
rank or power. Do not venture to solicit me
for offices of state or titles, which neither birth
nor talents fit you for. The various characters
I have assumed in the scenes, which you
have been concerned in with me, were adapted
to the difficulties we were in: the character
in which I must now appear, as Czar of Moscovy,
is my natural character, and therefore
look well to your conduct, as you respect my
favour and protection.
“Demetrius, Autocrat.”
Humph! very well, excellently well, Demetrius
Autocrat—very pithy and concise: you are in
your natural character, it seems; I liked you
better in your artificial one, as my friend and
crony Griska, but let it pass, let it pass—I must
look well to my conduct, it seems—that I hope
I can do, and yet spare a little time to look to
my comforts also—
Michael.
That won't bate him an inch of my merit;
Have a care, my friend Grisky,
And be not too frisky,
I am touch'd in a sensitive part;
I have plenty of scars,
That I got in the wars,
But ingratitude cuts to the heart.
Wet and dry, hot and cold, the world over,
Begg'd, borrow'd, and robb'd,
Am I now to be fobb'd
I am not such a fly,
No, believe me, not I,
To be caught with a spoonful of honey.”
Peter enters.
Pet.
Ah, my sweet Michael, my dear son-in-law,
that is to be; you have stept into good
quarters, my happy fellow, o' my conscience.
You have got a very pretty kind of a house over
your head.
Mic.
You are right: I'll have any man's
house over my head, or any man's head over
my house; but don't be so familiar. No sweet
Michael, with your leave—no happy fellow; I
am not sure I am happy. When I had no money,
I had no cares; when I had no house I had no
visitors; and now, if you recollect how readily
you desired me to walk out of your house, you
may guess with what good will I recommend it
to you to absent yourself from mine.
Pet.
Come, come, Michael, it is not in your
nature to bear malice. I am sure you'll say a
kind word to the Czar for your friend, poor old
Peter.
Mic.
Well, upon second thoughts, I will say
for you to the Czar Demetrius just as many kind
words as you said for me to the General Suiski.
Pet.
No, no, no. Forgive and forget. Don't
condemn me for one ill deed, think of the many
good ones I have done.
Mic.
I have been thinking of all your deeds,
and I protest to you I can't recollect one good
one amongst them all, unless it was your obliging
introduction of me to your catchpoles, and I
in which I'll recommend you to the hangman.
Pet.
Now I'm sure you can't be serious,
Michael. You wou'd not, surely you wou'd not
suffer your wife's father to be hang'd, and see
yourself made son-in-law to the gallows?
Mic.
Don't be too sure of that. I may have
family connections in that quarter more than you
may be aware of—As for Petrilla, a trifle of that
sort can make no difference between her and me.
Petrilla enters.
Pet.
Ah, here she comes—Sweet, sweet Petrilla,
soften the heart of this obdurate man. I
only want him to sue out my pardon from the
Czar Demetrius, and because I made a small
mistake about the star upon his cheek, and
other little matters, he vows vengeance against
me, and has no pity in his heart for your poor
old father.
Petril.
Oh yes, he has a great deal of pity.
You told me so yourself, didn't you, Michael?
Mic.
I did: I told you I had abundance of
pity; and what was your answer to that?—“So
has a tiger.”
Petril.
Well, if it was; I won't marry a tiger,
I can't love a tiger.
Mic.
I don't expect you to do both; therefore,
as long as love lasts, we'll not think of marriage.
Petril.
Choose. I can live without you.
Mic.
Where can you live without me? In a
Tartar's hovel, and feed on mare's milk?
Petril.
On the mare herself, rather than with
the richest noble in the land, who has no mercy
in his heart. But fear nothing, father; Michael
is only jesting with you; you are in no danger.
Demetrius not protect my father? It is impossible.
Mic.
Well, well! Say no more. Your father
is but a tailor, and Demetrius won't think about
him; so let him strike work, shut up shop, and
come and live with us. Give me your hand,
Peter; all is over; set your mind at rest.
A Tartar Soldier enters.
Tart.
Are you Michael Merowitz?
Mic.
I am Michael Merowitz; but you might
have gain'd that information at the door, without
troubling yourself or me to come any further.
Tart.
I am bearer of the Czar's commands to
Michael Merowitz, and shall deliver them to no
one but the principal.
Mic.
Why then, consistently with your duty,
you may deliver them to me. What are they?
Tart.
You must come to the palace forthwith,
—you and one Peter Bassovitz, and his daughter
Petrilla—perhaps these are the parties—
Mic.
You are right again: that is Peter Bassovitz,
and this is his daughter.
Tart.
So I shou'd suppose: I cou'd not easily
have mistaken one for the other. It is his
Czarish Majesty's commands, that you present
yourselves at the palace without delay: you
will be admitted upon giving in your names to
the gentleman-usher.
Mic.
I am glad to hear the usher is a gentleman
—that is not your office, I perceive?
Tart.
It is not. You have all heard the summons—
Mic.
Distinctly, and will obey.
Tart.
See that you do. Farewell!
[Exit.
See that you do! Is that your phrase?
When next we meet again, I'll make you find a
better, see if I don't.
Petril.
Michael, is this courtly personage, that
the Czar has sent to you, one of the lords of
his bedchamber? I don't think his message
promises any great promotion.
Pet.
Are you sure he mentioned me in his
majesty's invitation?
Mic.
Quite sure. Your name was upon the
card; you have a ticket for the entertainment.
Pet.
I should not have taken it amiss if he
had left me out.
Petril.
For my part, though I have little to
expect, I have nothing to fear. I answered
firmly to the appeal of the deacon Otreneif, I'll
not run away from the summons of the Czar
Demetrius.
Mic.
Right! my gay girl. With a man of
courage you are safe; cowards only can be
cruel, and my comrade Griska has the spirit of a
lion. Therefore, come along, both of you, and
fear him not. He is merciful to his enemies, and
cannot be unmindful of his friends.
[Exeunt.
| The False Demetrius | |