1ST ATTENDANT. Ay; that's the kind of intercourse he loves;

Sorcerers, fortune-tellers, necromancers.

Ever he seeks to dip into the future,

Just like some pretty girl. Fain would I know

What 'tis he would foretell.

2ND ATTENDANT. Well, here he comes.

Will it please you question him?

1ST ATTENDANT. How grim he looks!

(Exeunt.) TSAR. (Enters.) I have attained the highest power. Six years

Already have I reigned in peace; but joy

Dwells not within my soul. Even so in youth

We greedily desire the joys of love,

But only quell the hunger of the heart

With momentary possession. We grow cold,

Grow weary and oppressed! In vain the wizards

Promise me length of days, days of dominion

Immune from treachery - not power, not life

Gladden me; I forebode the wrath of Heaven

And woe. For me no happiness. I thought

To satisfy my people in contentment,

In glory, gain their love by generous gifts,

But I have put away that empty hope;

The power that lives is hateful to the mob, -

Only the dead they love. We are but fools

When our heart vibrates to the people's groans

And passionate wailing. Lately on our land

God sent a famine; perishing in torments

The people uttered moan. The granaries

I made them free of, scattered gold among them,

Found labour for them; furious for my pains

They cursed me! Next, a fire consumed their homes;

I built for them new dwellings; then forsooth

They blamed me for the fire! Such is the mob,

Such is its judgment! Seek its love, indeed!