ard to meet him_). Sire!

CZAR (_nervous and frightened_). Don't come too near me, boy! Don't come
too near me, I say! There is always something about an heir to a crown
unwholesome to his father. Who is that man over there? I don't know him.
What is he doing? Is he a conspirator? Have you searched him? Give him
till to-morrow to confess, then hang him!--hang him!

PRINCE PAUL. Sire, you are anticipating history. This is Count
Petouchof, your new ambassador to Berlin. He is come to kiss hands on
his appointment.

CZAR. To kiss my hand? There is some plot in it. He wants to poison me.
There, kiss my son's hand; it will do quite as well.

(_PRINCE PAUL signs to COUNT PETOUCHOF to leave the room. Exit PETOUCHOF
and the guards. CZAR sinks down into his chair. The courtiers remain
silent._)

PRINCE PAUL (_approaching_). Sire! will your Majesty--

CZAR. What do you startle me like that for? No, I won't. (_Watches the
courtiers nervously._) Why are you clattering your sword, sir? (_To
COUNT ROUVALOFF._) Take it off, I shall have no man wear a sword in my
presence (_looking at CZAREVITCH_), least of all my son. (_To PRINCE
PAUL._) You are not angry with me, Prince? You won't desert me, will
you? Say you won't desert me. What do you want? You can have
anything--anything.

PRINCE PAUL (_bowing very low_). Sire, 'tis enough for me to have your
confidence. (_Aside._) I was afraid he was going to revenge himself and
give me another decoration.

CZAR (_returning to his chair_). Well, gentlemen.

MARQ. DE POIV. Sire, I have the honour to present to you a loyal address
from your subjects in the Province of Archangel, expressing their horror
at the last attempt on your Majesty's life.

PRINCE PAUL. The last attempt but two, you ought to have said, Marquis.
Don't you see it is dated three weeks back?

CZAR. They are good people in the Province of Archangel--honest, loyal
people. They love me very much--simple, loyal people; give them a new
saint, it costs nothing. Well, Alexis (_turning to the CZAREVITCH_)--how
many traitors were hung this morning?

CZARE. There were three men strangled, Sire.

CZAR. There should have been three[11] thousand. I would to God that
this people had but one neck that I might strangle them with one noose!
Did they tell anything? whom did they implicate? what did they confess?

CZARE. Nothing, Sire.

CZAR. They should have been tortured then; why weren't they tortured?
Must I always be fighti