Czar. To kiss my hand? There is some plot in it. He wants to poison me. There, kiss my son's hand; it will do quite as well.
(Prince Paul signs to Count Petouchof to leave the room. Exit Petouchof and the guards. Czar sinks down into his chair. The courtiers remain silent.)
Prince Paul (approaching). Sire! will your Majesty—
Czar. What do you startle me like that for? No, I won't. (Watches the courtiers nervously.) Why are you clattering your sword, sir? (To Count Rouvaloff.) Take it off, I shall have no man wear a sword in my presence (looking at Czarevitch), least of all my son. (To Prince Paul.) You are not angry with me, Prince? You won't desert me, will you? Say you won't desert me. What do you want? You can have anything—anything.
Prince Paul (bowing very low). Sire, 'tis enough for me to have your confidence. (Aside.) I was afraid he was going to revenge himself and give me another decoration.
Czar (returning to his chair). Well, gentlemen.
Marq. de Poiv. Sire, I have the honour to present to you a loyal address from your subjects in the Province of Archangel, expressing their horror at the last attempt on your Majesty's life.
Prince Paul. The last attempt but two, you ought to have said, Marquis. Don't you see it is dated three weeks back?
Czar. They are good people in the Province of Archangel—honest, loyal people. They love me very much—simple, loyal people; give them a new saint, it costs nothing. Well, Alexis (turning to the Czarevitch)—how many traitors were hung this morning?
Czare. There were three men strangled, Sire.