Vera. What is that? Did you not hear something?
Czar. Only your voice, that fowler's note which lures my heart away like a poor bird upon the limed twig.
Vera. Methought that some one laughed.
Czar. It was but the wind and rain; the night is full of storm. (Conspirators murmur outside.)
Vera. It should be so indeed. Oh, where are your guards? where are your guards?
Czar. Where should they be but at home? I shall not live pent round by sword and steel. The love of a people is a king's best body-guard.
Vera. The love of a people!
Czar. Sweet, you are safe here. Nothing can harm you here. O love, I knew you trusted me! You said you would have trust.
Vera. I have had trust. O love, the past seems but some dull grey dream from which our souls have wakened. This is life at last.
Czar. Ay, life at last.