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With characteristic energy he speedily raised an army of two hundred thousand men, and then was in the utmost terror lest this very army should pass over to the ranks of his foes. He applied to Sweden and to Denmark to help him, but both kingdoms refused. Dmitri advanced triumphantly, and laid siege to Novgorod on the 21st of December, 1605. For five months the war continued with varying success.
His son Feodor was crowned as his successor; but a few weeks later he was deposed and strangled, and the new Dmitri came to the throne.
“She won’t forgive everything,” said Dmitri, with a grin. “There’s something in it, brother, that no woman could forgive. Do you know what would be the best thing to do?” “What?” “Pay back the three thousand.” “Where can we get it from? I say, I have two thousand. Ivan will give you another thousand—that makes three. Take it and pay it back.” “And when would you get it, your three thousand?
“Tut—tut—tut! That’s it, is it? So you’re off there to make trouble!” muttered Pyotr Ilyitch. “Now, it’s all clear, as clear as daylight. Dmitri Fyodorovitch, give me your pistols at once if you mean to behave like a man,” he shouted aloud to Mitya. “Do you hear, Dmitri?” “The pistols?
And every day and every hour they get angrier and angrier, so that I sometimes think I shall kill myself in a fright. I can’t depend upon them, sir.” “And why have you meddled? Why did you begin to spy for Dmitri Fyodorovitch?” said Ivan irritably. “How could I help meddling? Though, indeed, I haven’t meddled at all, if you want to know the truth of the matter.
Dmitri Petrovitch, glad that he had at last opened his heart to his friend, kept his arm round my waist all the way; and speaking now, not with bitterness and not with apprehension, but quite cheerfully, told me that if everything had been satisfactory in his home life, he should have returned to Petersburg and taken up scientific work there.
At last Anna Vassilyevna raised her eyes, saying: 'God is your judge, Dmitri Nikanorovitch' she stopped short: the reproaches died away on her lips. 'Why, you are ill, she cried: 'Elena, your husband's ill! 'I have been unwell, Anna Vassilyevna, answered Insarov; 'and even now I am not quite strong yet: but I hope my native air will make me perfectly well again.
Elena glanced at his sharp profile, at his emaciated hands, and felt a sudden pang of terror. 'Dmitri, she began. He started. 'Eh? Has Renditch come? 'Not yet but what do you think you are in a fever, you are really not quite well, shouldn't we send for a doctor? 'That wretched gossip has frightened you. There's no necessity. I will rest a little, and it will pass off.
The people were still more incensed by the conduct of Marina, this foreign bride, both before and after the wedding, she giving continual offence by her insistence on Polish customs. While thus offending the prejudices and superstitions of his people, Dmitri prepared for his downfall by his trustfulness and clemency.
Yet all the return the able regent received was the popular saying that he had called in the Tartars in order to make the people forget the death of Dmitri. A child was born to Feodor, a girl. The enemies of the regent instantly declared that a boy had been born and that he had substituted for it a girl. It died in a few days, and then it was said that he had poisoned it.
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