PRETENDER. (Laughing.) Even so
I'll prove myself to them in deed. My friends,
We will not wait for Shuisky; I wish you joy;
Tomorrow, battle.
(Exit.)
ALL. Long life to Dimitry!
A POLE. Tomorrow, battle! They are fifty thousand,
And we scarce fifteen thousand. He is mad!
ANOTHER. That's nothing, friend. A single Pole can challenge
Five hundred Muscovites.
PRISONER. Yes, thou mayst challenge!
But when it comes to fighting, then, thou braggart,
Thou'lt run away.
POLE. If thou hadst had a sword,
Insolent prisoner, then (pointing to his sword) with this I'ld soon
Have vanquished thee.
PRISONER. A Russian can make shift
Without a sword; how like you this (shows his fist), you fool?
(The Pole looks at him haughtily and departs in
silence. All laugh.)
A FOREST
PRETENDER and PUSHKIN
(In the background lies a dying horse)
PRETENDER. Ah, my poor horse! How gallantly he charged
Today in the last battle, and when wounded,
How swiftly bore me. My poor horse!
PUSHKIN. (To himself.) Well, here's
A great ado about a horse, when all
Our army's smashed to bits.
PRETENDER. Listen! Perhaps
He's but exhausted by the loss of blood,
And will recover.
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