I thought within my family to find

Solace; I thought to make my daughter happy

By wedlock. Like a tempest Death took off

Her bridegroom - and at once a stealthy rumour

Pronounced me guilty of my daughter's grief -

Me, me, the hapless father! Whoso dies,

I am the secret murderer of all;

I hastened Feodor's end, 'twas I that poisoned

My sister-queen, the lowly nun - all I!

Ah! Now I feel it; naught can give us peace

Mid worldly cares, nothing save only conscience!

Healthy she triumphs over wickedness,

Over dark slander; but if in her be found

A single casual stain, then misery.

With what a deadly sore my soul doth smart;

My heart, with venom filled, doth like a hammer

Beat in mine ears reproach; all things revolt me,

And my head whirls, and in my eyes are children

Dripping with blood; and gladly would I flee,

But nowhere can find refuge - horrible!

Pitiful he whose conscience is unclean!

TAVERN ON THE LITHUANIAN FRONTIER.

MISSAIL and VARLAAM, wandering friars; GREGORY in secular attire; HOSTESS HOSTESS. With what shall I regale you, my reverend

honoured guests?

VARLAAM. With what God sends, little hostess. Have you

no wine?

HOSTESS. As if I had not, my fathers! I will bring it at

once. (Exit.)

MISSAIL. Why so glum, comrade? Here is that very

Lithuanian frontier which you so wished to reach.

GREGORY. Until I shall be in Lithuania, till then I shall not

Be content.

VARLAAM. What is it that makes you so fond of Lithuania!

Here are we, Father Missail and I, a sinner, when we fled