The Prince, without losing his presence of mind, drew from his side pocket a traveler's pistol and fired at the masked brigand. The Princess shrieked, and, in horror, covered her face with both hands. Dubrovsky was wounded in the shoulder; the blood was flowing. The Prince, without losing a moment, drew another pistol; but he was not allowed time to fire; the door was opened, and several strong hands dragged him out of the carriage and snatched the pistol from him. Above him flashed several knives.

"Do not touch him!" cried Dubrovsky, and his somber companions drew back.

"You are free!" continued Dubrovsky, turning to the pale Princess.

"No!" she replied; "it is too late! I am married. I am the wife of Prince Vereysky."

"What are you saying?" cried Dubrovsky in despair. "No! you are not his wife. You were forced, you could never have consented."

"I did consent, I took the oath," she answered with firmness. "The Prince is my husband; give orders for him to be set at liberty, and leave me with him. I have not deceived you. I waited for you till the last moment... but now, I tell you, now, it is too late. Let us go."

But Dubrovsky no longer heard her. The pain of his wound, and his violent emotion had deprived him of his strength. He fell against the wheel; the brigands surrounded him. He managed to say a few words to them. They placed him on horseback; two of them supported him, a third took the horse by the bridle, and all withdrew from the spot, leaving the carriage in the middle of the road, the servants bound, the horses unharnessed, but without having done any pillaging, and without having shed one drop of blood in revenge for the blood of their chief.

XIX.

IN THE MIDST of a dense forest, in a narrow clearing, rose a small fort, consisting of earthworks and a ditch, behind which were some shacks and mud-huts. Within the inclosed space, a crowd of men who, by their varied garments and by their arms, could at once be recognized as brigands, were having their dinner, seated bareheaded around a common cauldron. On the earthworks, by the side of a small cannon, squatted a sentinel, with his legs crossed under him. He was sewing a patch upon a certain part of his garment, plying his needle with a dexterity that bespoke the experienced tailor, and every now and then glancing round on every side.

Although a certain mug had passed from hand to hand several times, a strange silence reigned among this crowd. The brigands finished their dinner; one after another rose and said a prayer; some dispersed among the shacks, others strolled away into the forest or lay down to sleep, according to the Russian custom.

The sentinel finished his work, shook his garment, gazed admiringly at the patch, stuck the needle in his sleeve, sat astride the cannon, and began to sing a melancholy old song at the top of his lungs: "Green boughs, do not murmur, be still, Mother Forest, Hinder me not from thinking my thoughts!'

At that moment the door of one of the shacks opened, and an old woman in a white cap, neatly and even primly dressed, appeared upon the threshold," Enough of that, Styopka," she said angrily. "The master is resting, and yet you must go on bawling like that; you have neither conscience nor pity."

"I beg pardon, Yegorovna," replied Styopka. "I won't do it any more. Let our good master rest and get well."

The old woman withdrew into the hut, and Styopka began to pace to and fro upon the earthworks.

Within the shack, from which the old woman had emerged, lay the wounded Dubrovsky upon an army cot behind a partition. Before him, upon a small table, lay his pistols, and a sword above the head of the bed. Rich carpets covered the floor and walls of the mud- hut. In the corner was a lady's silver toilet set and mirror. Dubrovsky held in his hand an open book, but his eyes were closed, and the old woman, peeping at him from behind the partition, could not tell whether he was asleep or only lost in thought.

Suddenly Dubrovsky started. The fort was roused by an alarm, and Styopka thrust his head in through the window.

"Vladimir Andreyevich!" he cried; "our men are signaling - they are on our track!"

Dubrovsky leaped from his bed, seized his arms and came out of the shack. The brigands were noisily crowding together in the inclosure, but when he appeared a deep silence fell.

"Is everyone here?" asked Dubrovsky.

"Everyone except the sentries," was the reply.

"To your places!" cried Dubrovsky, and each of the brigands took his appointed place.

At that moment, three of the sentries ran up to the gate of the fort. Dubrovsky went to meet them.

"What is it?" he asked.

"The soldiers are in the forest," was the reply; "they are surrounding us."

Dubrovsky ordered the gate to be locked, and then went himself to examine the cannon. In the wood could be heard the sound of several voices, every moment drawing nearer and nearer. The brigands waited in silence. Suddenly three or four soldiers appeared out of the forest, but immediately fell back again, firing their guns as a signal to their comrades.

"Prepare for battle!" cried Dubrovsky. There was a movement among the brigands, then all was silent again.

Then the noise of an approaching column was heard; arms glittered among the trees, and about a hundred and fifty soldiers dashed out of the forest and rushed with a wild shout toward the earthworks. Dubrovsky applied the match to the cannon; the shot was successful - one soldier had his head torn off, and two others were wounded. The troops were thrown into confusion, but the officer in command rushed forward, the soldiers followed him and jumped down into the ditch. The brigands fired down at them with muskets and pistols, and then, with axes in their hands, they began to defend the earthworks, up which the infuriated soldiers were now climbing, leaving twenty of their comrades wounded in the ditch below. A hand to hand struggle began. The soldiers were already upon the earthworks, the brigands were beginning to give way; but Dubrovsky advanced toward the officer in command, placed his pistol at his breast, and fired. The officer fell over backward. Several soldiers raised him in their arms and hastened to carry him into the forest; the others, having lost their chief, stopped fighting.

The emboldened brigands took advantage of this moment of hesitation, and surging forward, hurled their assailants back into the ditch. The besiegers began to run; the brigands with fierce yells started in pursuit of them. The victory was decisive. Dubrovsky, trusting to the complete confusion of the enemy, stopped his men and shut himself up in the fortress, doubled the sentinels, forbade anyone to absent himself, and ordered the wounded to be picked up.

This last event drew the serious attention of the government to Dubrovsky's exploits. Information was obtained of his whereabouts, and a detachment of soldiers was sent to take him, dead or alive. Several of his band were captured, and from these it was ascertained that Dubrovsky was no longer among them. A few days after the battle we have just described, he had collected all his followers and informed them that it was his intention to leave them for ever, and advised them, too, to change their mode of life: "You have become rich under my command. Each of you has a passport with which he will be able to make his way safely to some distant province, where he can pass the rest of his life in ease and honest labor. But you are all rascals, and probably do not wish to abandon your trade."

Thereupon he had left them, taking with him only one of his men. Nobody knew what became of him. At first the truth of this account was doubted, for the devotion of the brigands to their chief was well known, and it was supposed that they had concocted the story to secure his safety; but after events confirmed their statement. The terrible visits, burnings, and robberies ceased; the roads again became safe. According to another report, Dubrovsky had escaped abroad.

The Plays

The Alexander Pushkin Museum and Memorial Apartment is close to Nevsky Prospekt, Saint Petersburg. The museum is housed in Pushkin's apartment where he lived between 1836 and 1837, and died after being wounded in a duel. Following the outburst of nationwide grief, Pushkin's apartment was carefully preserved.

BORIS GODUNOV.

Translated by Alfred Hayes This play was written in 1825 and originally published in 1831, but it was not approved for performance by the censor until 1866. It concerns the eponymous Russian ruler, who reigned as Tsar from 1598 to 1605. Consisting of 25 scenes and written mostly in blank verse., the play introduces the character Boris Godunov as the most noted member of an ancient, though now extinct, family of Tatar origin, hailing from the Horde to Kostroma in the early 14th century. Godunov was descended from the Tatarian Prince Chet, who went from the Golden Horde to Russia and founded the Ipatiev Monastery in Kostroma. Godunov's career began whilst in the court of Ivan the Terrible and in 1570 he took part in the Serpeisk campaign as an archer of the guard. The following year, he became an oprichnik - a member of Ivan's personal guard and secret police.

Boris Fyodorovich Godunov (1551-1605), who was the de facto regent of Russia from c. 1585 to 1598 and then the first non-Rurikid tsar from 1598 to 1605.

CONTENTS.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

PALACE OF THE KREMLIN.

THE RED SQUARE.

THE VIRGIN'S FIELD THE PALACE OF THE KREMLIN.

NIGHT.

FENCE OF THE MONASTERY*

PALACE OF THE PATRIARCH.

PALACE OF THE TSAR.

TAVERN ON THE LITHUANIAN FRONTIER.

MOSCOW. SHUISKY'S HOUSE PALACE OF THE TSAR.

CRACOW. HOUSE OF VISHNEVETSKY.

CASTLE OF THE GOVERNOR.

A SUITE OF LIGHTED ROOMS.

NIGHT.

THE LITHUANIAN FRONTIER.

THE COUNCIL OF THE TSAR.

A PLAIN NEAR NOVGOROD SEVERSK.

OPEN SPACE IN FRONT OF THE CATHEDRAL IN MOSCOW.

SYEVSK.

A FOREST.

MOSCOW. PALACE OF THE TSAR.

A TENT.

PUBLIC SQUARE IN MOSCOW.

THE KREMLIN. HOUSE OF BORIS.

A scene from the play Another scene from the play DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

BORIS GODUNOV, afterwards Tsar.

PRINCE SHUISKY, Russian noble.

PRINCE VOROTINSKY, Russian noble.

SHCHELKALOV, Russian Minister of State.

FATHER PIMEN, an old monk and chronicler.

GREGORY OTREPIEV, a young monk, afterwards the Pretender

to the throne of Russia.

THE PATRIARCH, Abbot of the Chudov Monastery.

MISSAIL, wandering friar.

VARLAAM, wandering friar.

ATHANASIUS MIKAILOVICH PUSHKIN, friend of Prince Shuisky.