Mich. The man is a tyrant.
Vera. A tyrant! Hath he not dismissed his evil counsellors. That ill-omened raven of his father's life hath had his wings clipped and his claws pared, and comes to us croaking for revenge. Oh, have mercy on him![22] Give him a week to live!
Pres. Vera pleading for a king!
Vera (proudly). I plead not for a king, but for a brother.
Mich. For a traitor to his oath, for a coward who should have flung the purple back to the fools that gave it to him. No, Vera, no. The brood of men is not dead yet, nor the dull earth grown sick of child-bearing. No crowned man in Russia shall pollute God's air by living.
Pres. You bade us try you once; we have tried you, and you are found wanting.
Mich. Vera, I am not blind; I know your secret. You love this boy, this young prince with his pretty face, his curled hair, his soft white hands. Fool that you are, dupe of a lying tongue, do you know what he would have done to you, this boy you think loved you? He would have made you his mistress, used your body at his pleasure, thrown you away when he was wearied of you; you, the priestess of liberty, the flame of Revolution, the torch of democracy.
Vera. What he would have done to me matters little. To the people, at least, he will be true. He loves the people—at least, he loves liberty.
Pres. So he would play the citizen-king, would he, while we starve? [23]Would flatter us with sweet speeches, would cheat us with promises like his father, would lie to us as his whole race have lied.[23]
Mich. And you whose very name made every despot tremble for his life, you, Vera Sabouroff, you would betray liberty for a lover and the people for a paramour!