ODOWALSKY.
The spring has decked them with her trim array;
A teeming harvest clothes the fruitful soil.
DEMETRIUS.
The view is lost in limitless expanse.
RAZIN.
Yet is this but a small beginning, sire,
Of Russia's mighty empire. For it spreads
Towards the east to confines unexplored,
And on the north has ne'er a boundary,
Save the productive energy of earth.
Behold, our Czar is quite absorbed in thought.
DEMETRIUS.
On these fair meads dwell peace, unbroken peace,
And with war's terrible array I come
To scatter havoc, like a listed foe!
ODOWALSKY.
Hereafter 'twill be time to think of that.
DEMETRIUS.
Thou feelest as a Pole, I am Moscow's son.
It is the land to which I owe my life;
Forgive me, thou dear soil, land of my home,
Thou sacred boundary-pillar, which I clasp,
Whereon my sire his broad-spread eagle graved,
That I, thy son, with foreign foemen's arms,
Invade the tranquil temple of thy peace.
'Tis to reclaim my heritage I come,
And the proud name that has been stolen from me.
Here the Varegers, my forefathers, ruled,
In lengthened line, for thirty generations;
I am the last of all their lineage, snatched
From murder by God's special providence.
SCENE III.
A Russian village. An open square before a church.
The tocsin is heard. GLEB, ILIA, and TIMOSKA rush in,
armed with hatchets.
GLEB (entering from a house).
Why are they running?
ILIA (entering from another house).
Who has tolled the bell.