Tho bearer of the keys of heaven,

The healer of the wounded soul,

The minister serene of Christ,

Who suffered death and ransomed us;

The sacred gifts immaculate

He brings, that, strengthened and confirmed,

I may the bolder march to death,

Nor fail to reach immortal bliss.

With softened heart old Kotzubei

Before the Ruler of the world

Prepares to pour his heart in prayer;

But' tis no gentle anchorite

Has come with words of pardon free:

The hated Orlick stands before him.

And o'er his face a loathing comes,

As he demands with proudful scorn:

"What wilt thou here, oh man of crime?

What moves Mazeppa to disturb

The last remains of my sad life?"

ORLICK.

One secret more thou must divulge.

KOTZUBEI.

I have replied: and so, depart,

Leave me in peace! -

ORLICK.

One answer more

Our lord demands.

KOTZUBEI.

And what demand?

I have revealed, acknowledged all

That thou wouldst know. The charges made

Were all a lie. I'm skilled and sly

In weaving plots. The Hetman's right

What more canst thou require?

ORLICK.

We know,

Riches thou hadst and stores untold:

These stores in slily chosen spots,