'Tis through their faithful hands the kings

Their orders and instructions send.

And now thou knowst our dread designs,

Art thou content? And are thy doubts

Now laid to rest?

MARIE.

Oh, dearest chuck!

Thou shalt be our new country's Tsar!

And well the royal crown shall suit

Thy snowy locks!

MAZEPPA.

Stay, soft awhile!

As yet it is not won. The storm

But lours. Who knows what fate will bring?

MARIE.

Where thou art, fear can have no place.

Thou art so mighty! Well I know,

The throne awaits thee!

MAZEPPA.

Or the block!

MARIE.

If so, with thee I share the block

Dost thou think, I will survive thee?

But no! thou wearst the kingly sign.

MAZEPPA.

Lovst thou me, Marie?

MARIE.

I? Love thee?

MAZEPPA.

But tell me, which, sire or husband

Dost thou the dearer hold?

MARIE.

Nay, friend,

And why this question? Or why delight

To torture me in vain? My home

I would forget. To them I am

A thing of shame! And who can know?...

Oh, thought to make the boldest blench!...

May be, my father has accursed me,

And for whom?

MAZEPPA.

But am I dearer