And truth's eternal sun will dawn on all.

Thy faithful bedesman, one in worldly matters

No prudent judge, ventures today to offer

His voice to thee. This offspring of the devil,

This unfrocked monk, has known how to appear

Dimitry to the people. Shamelessly

He clothed himself with the name of the tsarevich

As with a stolen vestment. It only needs

To tear it off - and he'll be put to shame

By his own nakedness. The means thereto

God hath Himself supplied. Know, sire, six years

Since then have fled; 'twas in that very year

When to the seat of sovereignty the Lord

Anointed thee - there came to me one evening

A simple shepherd, a venerable old man,

Who told me a strange secret. "In my young days,"

He said, "I lost my sight, and thenceforth knew not

Nor day, nor night, till my old age; in vain

I plied myself with herbs and secret spells;

In vain did I resort in adoration

To the great wonder-workers in the cloister;

Bathed my dark eyes in vain with healing water

From out the holy wells. The Lord vouchsafed not

Healing to me. Then lost I hope at last,

And grew accustomed to my darkness. Even

Slumber showed not to me things visible,

Only of sounds I dreamed. Once in deep sleep

I hear a childish voice; it speaks to me:

'Arise, grandfather, go to Uglich town,

To the Cathedral of Transfiguration;

There pray over my grave. The Lord is gracious -

And I shall pardon thee.' 'But who art thou?'

I asked the childish voice. 'I am the tsarevich