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Oh, the impatient spirit Will lie upon the rack of expectation And measure out this monstrous length of space With groans and anxious throbbings of the heart. MEISCHEK. What dost thou wish? What is it thou wouldst have? MARINA. Let me abide the issue in Kioff! There I can gather tidings at their source. There on the frontier of both kingdoms MEISCHEK. Thy spirit's over-bold. Restrain it, child!
ARCHBISHOP. E'en now he's moving on to Tscherinsko; His camp at Kioff has broke up, 'tis rumored; And with a force of mounted Polish troops And Don Cossacks, he comes to push his claims. MARFA. Oh, God Almighty, thanks, thanks, thanks, that thou Hast sent me rescue and revenge at last! ARCHBISHOP. How, Marfa, how am I to construe this? MARFA. Ob, heavenly powers, conduct him safely here!
MARINA. Kioff belonged not to our native land; There the Varegers ruled in days of yore. I have the ancient chronicles by heart; 'Twas from the Russian empire wrenched by force. I will restore it to its former crown. MEISCHEK. Hush, hush! The Waywode must not hear such talk. They're breaking up. A Greek convent in a bleak district near the sea Belozero.
We stand alone. This die is cast. If he Cares for himself, we shall be selfish too. You lead the troops to Kioff. There let them swear Allegiance to the prince, and unto me; Mark you, to me! 'Tis needful for our ends. I want your eye, and not your arm alone. ODOWALSKY. Command me speak MARINA. You lead the Czarowitsch.
BIELSKY. Ay, mount the snow-white steed, thine armor on, And so, a second Vanda, lead thy troops, Inspired by thee, to certain victory. MARINA. My spirit leads you. War is not for women. The rendezvous is in Kioff. Thither my father Will lead a levy of three thousand horse. My sister's husband gives two thousand more, And the Don sends a Cossack host in aid.
MARINA. Yes, thou dost yield, thou'lt take me with thee, then? MEISCHEK. Thou rulest me. Must I not do thy will? MARINA. My own dear father, when I am Moscow's queen Kioff, you know, must be our boundary. Kioff must then be mine, and thou shalt rule it. MEISCHEK. Thou dreamest, girl! Already the great Moscow Is for thy soul too narrow; thou, to grasp Domains, wilt strip them from thy native land.
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