Class 
 
 O 0^ 
 
 Copyiight^J" t^'^g 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSnV 
 
GIVE UP YOUR GODS 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 A Drama in Three Acts 
 of Pagan and Christian ^ Russia 
 
 Arthur Dougherty Rees 
 
 Author of the Poetic Dramas " The Double Love" " Coli 
 " William Tell " 
 
 Philadelphia 
 
 Press of J. B. Lippincott Company 
 
 1908 
 
LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
 Two Cosies Received 
 
 DEC 3 190G 
 
 ^^ Copyritht E^iL q 
 
 COPYEIGHT, 1908 
 
 BY 
 
 A. D. ReES 
 
 f5 3r3 
 
 
THIS DRAMA 
 
 IS 
 
 DEDICATED 
 
 TO THE 
 
 HEROES, HEROINES, AND MARTYRS 
 
 OF 
 THE RUSSIAN REVOLUTION 
 WHO HAVE STRIVEN SO NOBLY 
 TO COMPEL^ 
 
 THE ROMANOFF DYNASTY 
 
 TO 
 
 GIVE UP ITS GODS. 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 Concerning the Russian Church, (Orthodox Greek,) Vladimir 
 the Holy and this Drama. 
 
 One may say of the Russian Church, with more 
 than mere figurative truth, that it remembered its 
 Creator in the days of its youth, but has forgotten 
 Him ever since. 
 
 The Muscovite variety of Christianity has had 
 a trial of one thousand years, and yet what a fearful 
 spectacle we behold these very hours in Holy Russia ! 
 
 Catherine the Second, writing to Voltaire in 1763, 
 just after she had gained the throne by her success- 
 ful conspiracy against her husband which ended in 
 his murder, said that " in the immensity of Russia 
 a year is but a day, as are a thousand years before 
 the Lord," and made that her excuse to the " Old 
 Man of the Alps," for not having reformed Russia 
 as much as she had at first dreamed of doing. Some 
 apologist for the Russian Church, finding no other 
 mode for its reconciliation before God and man, 
 might quote Queen Catherine's phrase and lay the 
 blame of its pitiful failure also, upon such abstrac- 
 tions as Space and Time. There would be no Laesa 
 Majestas in that, no danger of exile, and the words 
 could be spoken with great impressiveness. 
 
 In every niche and corner of the Immensity of 
 Russia, her church has placed its jewelled ikons and 
 holy images, which purport, for the comfort and 
 peace of the general gender, to perform miracles, 
 
 [71 
 
Introduction 
 
 win battles, destroy plagues and preserve life; it 
 has dramatically performed for more than thirty 
 generations its ritual of vestment, of incense and 
 music, captivating the ignorant peasants with pomp, 
 with fine and grand ceremonies, with the arts of 
 superstition, with its alleged intimacy with a god 
 who has made It the only True Church in Christen- 
 dom; enslaving them with its distortion of the fifth 
 commandment into : " Obey the Czar and pay your 
 tax " ; surrendering them as hostages to the forces 
 of Darkness and Misery, and withal, preserving the 
 sanctity of Autocracy, being paid therefor, and in- 
 spired thereto by the Beneficiaries on the Inside. 
 
 And what are the results of a thousand years of 
 this and kindred things? Russia in the twentieth 
 century of the Christian era overwhelmed as at no 
 other period of her history with moral chaos, murder, 
 disease and misery. By their fruits ye shall know 
 them. 
 
 In the earher days of the church, its prelates 
 condemned accused persons to death without trial 
 and in the days of this generation, it has shown 
 the world evidence of its conspiracies for robbery 
 and murder, particularly of the Jews. 
 
 The Russian church has always been exceedingly 
 deficient in spiritual and intellectual elements. All 
 western nations have had their great preachers, ex- 
 cept Russia. About three hundred and fifty years 
 ago, a monk, Sylvester, with courage in his heart, 
 flung himself into the presence of Ivan the Terrible 
 and proclaimed upon him for his cruelties, the judg- 
 ment of God. If true priests of Christ had pro- 
 claimed that upon but one half the Russian monarchs, 
 
 [81 
 
Introduction 
 
 there would be to-day in Russia considerably less 
 of that pitiable misery which now infests the Holy 
 Empire. 
 
 Sylvester went into exile and the Terrible Ivan 
 went to his church and, kneeling before the Cross 
 of Christ, named one by one and sometimes by 
 famihes and groups, those whom he had slain, pray- 
 ing that, if he had not completed the work of their 
 salvation in tliis Avorld, God might recompense them 
 for it in the next. Then he departed for new victims. 
 
 We still have memories of Father Gapon, but the 
 roll of such priests or prelates is wofully short. 
 With the exception of the Patriarch Nicon " in coarse 
 and homely proportions a Russian Luther," who 
 " saw that the time was come for giving life to the 
 ceremonial observances and a moral direction to the 
 devotional feelings of oriental worship," but who was 
 degraded and condemned by the Russian ecclesiastics 
 themselves (1667), there is no Bruno, no Savona- 
 rola, no Arnold of Brescia, no real Luther or Loyola, 
 no Bossuet and no Chrysostom in Russia. The Pro- 
 testant Reformation, like the Renaissance, shone 
 only as a distant gleam over the western horizon 
 of the Muscovite plains. 
 
 Not until Russia called herself Christian did she 
 call her wars holy. In Greece, the church did not 
 aim to rule the state, but in Russia it soon developed 
 the tendency, only to become finally subjected to the 
 state itself when Peter the Great abolished the patri- 
 archate in 1721. Those who have been the true 
 prophets, inspiring the people with the simple gospel 
 of Christ, it has persecuted, excommunicated and 
 damned. 
 
 [9] 
 
Introduction 
 
 Truly must it be said that the church in Russia 
 during its very first days, endeavored to do good. 
 It tried to abolish polygamy, to banish certain pagan 
 performances and the names of the older gods; it 
 brought from the West into the gloomy dark ages 
 of Russia, a new kind of music and singing, the first 
 translations of the Bible, some measure of education 
 and of Byzantine culture, to say nothing of its 
 religious message and teachings. Then it be- 
 came successful and succumbed to power, riches and 
 corruption. 
 
 Tolstoi declares its greatest good is accomplished, 
 — the knowledge of the life of Christ, which it has 
 diffused, — therefore, he adds, " Let it depart." As 
 a visible embodiment of the people's faith it will not 
 depart — but will change. Toleration, Liberality, and 
 Humanity will, it is hoped, make it some day a 
 Christian Church. Pobiedonosteff is gone and his 
 forms of Iniquity and Reaction have lost their most 
 fanatical disciple. 
 
 There are many priests in it, some of whom are 
 revolutionists, who are yearning for higher things; 
 even councils have been called within the church it- 
 self that it might be purged. Its regeneration 
 depends upon the gradual success of the revolution; 
 upon its dissociation from the State and the Bureau- 
 cracy and the birth within it of some Holy Spirit, 
 which like vestal fires, shall ever be kept burning. 
 
 No longer can its priests resort to a procession of 
 holy images and crosses thru the streets and fields 
 to quell riot and disorder; nor can Moscow fires now 
 be extinguished by prayers, (even if they ever 
 could,) nor plagues be obliterated by prostrations 
 
 [10] 
 
Introduction 
 
 before the jewelled ikons, for Time has wrought its 
 changes tho the church has stood still. Over- 
 burdened with Falsity, Pride and Sin and Ignorance, 
 it has been unable to move along the high ways of 
 Life, and has damned those who have progressed, 
 and those who have scorned to be Dead with it. 
 Like Vladimir and his people of old, it must give up 
 its gods to be redeemed. 
 
 The influences at work in creating a new religion 
 for Russia were many and various. On the whole, 
 however, it must be said that the change was for 
 the most part a " Great Man Movement," in that 
 its economic antecedents were not so powerful as 
 were the causes of it that lay in Vladimir himself, 
 without whom Paganism would have held sway much 
 longer in Russia. 
 
 He, being in reality a Northman was influenced by 
 the diff*erence in the environment of flat Russia and 
 the mountainous north of his ancestors. That diff^er- 
 ence brought out greater discontent, greater desire 
 for action and change. In addition, the sub-conscious 
 influence of the Scandinavian Mythology made the 
 appeal of the Russian gods and idols, strange and 
 unsatisfying. The vicissitudes of his career as a 
 conqueror increased his desire for some permanency 
 in his faith, however crude; he wanted something to 
 transform his life and finding it, he gave up his 
 gods, — his idols and his sword. 
 
 The previous beginnings of Christianity in Russia, 
 the proximity of Greece; the Dnieper River, by 
 which, says one, Christianity entered the Empire, 
 
 [11] 
 
Introduction 
 
 and above all the position and power of Vladimir 
 as a conqueror of Kief and as one who had firmly 
 consolidated all his inheritances and conquests, aided 
 in the transformation. 
 
 Vladimir wandered over the country with his sword 
 and battle axe, like a reincarnation of Thor upon 
 his expeditions armed with the mighty hammer. He 
 so impressed himself upon his people that in the 
 popular songs and legends of Kief, a strain of 
 music at least eight centuries old, he is still the 
 central heroic figure; not merely a man, but a kind 
 of god himself, sent from Heaven to rule and en- 
 lighten his people and to be known in story as the 
 " Beautiful Sun of Kief." 
 
 ******** 
 
 I have followed only a minute portion of exact 
 history in the drama, building it upon the bare 
 story of Vladimir's conversion, his dispatch of his 
 commissioners, their report and his action after his 
 own baptism, when he became pious (and peaceful, 
 except for self-defense) as he had formerly been 
 barbarous and warlike. 
 
 I have not sought for rigid technical perfection 
 in its construction, not considering that the highest 
 excellence, but have striven to make a poetic, dramatic 
 and psychological study of a barbarian king and 
 his spiritual evolution, and of the transition of a 
 people from their primitive religion to the first steps 
 in Christianity, endeavoring however, to create a 
 drama capable of stage production, after the neces- 
 sary omissions are made. ADR 
 
 Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 
 July, 1908. 
 
 [12] 
 
CHARACTERS REPRESENTED. 
 
 Vladimir, King of pagan Russia; a Northman by descent, the 
 great-grandson of Rurik, one of the Northmen who 
 conquered the primitive Slav land and became the 
 first king in Russian history, 
 
 RoGNEDA, his wife. 
 
 g^^J'g^ I trusted officers in Vladimir's army. 
 
 Aloysha, a pagan seer. 
 
 Kaysan, a wandering singer. 
 
 Akim, a hunter. 
 
 Elena "j 
 
 Resulka y Kief maidens. 
 
 Yaroslafna J 
 
 Ilya, a youth 
 
 Soldiers, populace, boys and girls, priests, commissioners, 
 messengers, ghosts of Rogneda's father and brother. 
 
Give up Your Gods 
 
 ACT I 
 
 In an open field near Kief, Russia, where a knoll 
 rises at the left, facing the east. The Dnieper river 
 can be seen in the distance, like a long silver gleam 
 at the background of the wide plains which almost 
 entirely fill the scene. At the far right a lonely hut 
 stands, bleak and mournful, in front of which are the 
 mounds of two graves, lying parallel to each other. 
 As the play opens several youths and maidens are 
 frolicking about celebrating the advent of Spring 
 according: to their customs. Some of them are stand- 
 ing on the knoll, watching the sun rise. 
 
 The time is in the early morning on the first day 
 of Spring in pagan Russia, about the year 987 
 A. D. 
 
 Elena. (From the hill-top.) 
 The golden bell of heav'n hath tolled the hour 
 Of Spring ! Our full hearts echo its sweet peal ! 
 Then welcome to its glowing face that peers 
 From heav'n, from yonder east and from the ground ! 
 We welcome thee, sweet Spring; come with thy joys; 
 
 come with flax, deep roots, abundant corn! 
 
 1 have but one love, and the sky one sun; 
 
 The cuckoo has one song, the year one spring! 
 
 Resulka. (Running up the hill-side.) 
 Sweet Spring, ride in upon a plough, and make 
 
 [15] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 The harrow be thy horse ! O may thy gentle winds 
 Dig furrows in the fields while kissing them, 
 And sweet com, yellowed by the fresh-gold sun 
 Shall grow the quicker and before thee too, 
 Shall bow the sooner, as I now bow down ! 
 {She boios toward the Sun.) 
 
 Yaroslafna. (Running up the hill.) 
 Here is my aurochs horn; thru it I'll blow 
 As loud as Perun's thunder; hear! 
 (She blows her horn.) 
 
 Elena. Stop, stop! 
 
 The cuckoos will be frightened off for fear 
 The winter's grumbling hath not gone. 
 
 Resul. The rooks 
 
 And larks and swallows all are here ; 'tis spring 
 Enough for them. 
 
 Yards. The pike can send his tail 
 
 Up thru the ice with ease, so winter 's flown. 
 
 {Enter at the left several hoys with hows, shooting arrows 
 to the west and north. Some of them carry a figure, made 
 of straw and hemp, symbolizing Death.) 
 
 Elena. Shoot, boys, shoot, and pierce the cold 
 and dark. 
 And drive them both away! 
 
 {The boys continue shooting.) 
 
 Resul. Your arrows, boys. 
 
 Compete with sun beams, driving back the cold. 
 
 {One of the hoys sets up the figure of Death on the 
 hill-side and all gather around in front of it, whilst those 
 with bows, shoot at it.) 
 
 Boris. (Running in from the left with his bow.) 
 [16] 
 
Act I 
 
 Hurrah, let's kill old Death to welcome Spring ! 
 I'll draw my bow back to my ear and then 
 The cord will sing as soon 's the arrow flies 
 To pluck the dumm3''s wintry eyes out, 
 Just as a Polish raven would. 
 
 (Boris shoots and misses^ whilst the others laugh at him.) 
 
 Resul. Its eyes 
 
 Elude thy arrows as do falcon-wings ! 
 
 Boris. (Running to the dummy.) 
 I'll fling it higher than the standing woods 
 And little lower than the flying clouds 
 So that 'twill fall into the Dnieper's flood. 
 
 {He seizes it and carries it down amongst the others.) 
 
 Ilya. And with my cudgel of red-elm, I'll beat 
 The ragged symbol of the winter's death. 
 
 (He heats it.) 
 
 Boms. Beat it like a fur coat. 
 
 (Ilya heats it again, whilst the others laugh and shout.) 
 
 Resul. Let's hang it on 
 
 Some angled tower of alder wood to show 
 The people that old Winter's dead. 
 
 Ilya. It must 
 
 Be flung into the Dnieper's flood, or else 
 The gods will be incensed. 
 
 Boris. No; 'tis not so! 
 
 {Ilya starts of with the dummy towards the river, and soon 
 disappears in the hackground followed hy Yaroslafna, 
 Elena and the hoys with bows and arrows.) 
 
 Well, let them go appease their gods! Resulka's 
 hair 
 2 [17] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Is like a golden tassel in the sun. 
 
 Resul. And Boris' tongue is like the silken rein 
 That guides the steed of flattery. 
 
 Boris. My sweet 
 
 Resulka, hear, — the grey wolf leaves his haunt 
 To roam the open plain; black ravens fly 
 From nested oaks; the yellow antlered stag 
 Shines 'mongst the dark pines hunting for his mate, 
 And from the cypress flies the nightingale 
 To sing of love at latticed windows wide, 
 So spurn not my words that in sweet spring time 
 Fly forth love laden, hunting thy sweet lair! 
 
 Resul. Ah, Boris, more than love hath come 
 with Spring. 
 Brew no more honey on thy lips but hear: 
 The Prince of Novgorod in Kief camps. 
 Wild hearted is Vladimir, — for 'tis he. 
 
 Boris. He who hath raced with winds upon the 
 sea 
 And on the boisterous Baltic ruled.? 
 
 Resul. 'Tis he ! 
 
 Boris. O Kief thou art in the Northman's grasp 
 Again ! 
 
 Resul. And Baltic pirates seize our soil! 
 
 Boris. When sea-kings become land kings, then 
 beware ! 
 
 Resul. They say he drinks the sea-foam, is it so? 
 
 Boris. I do not know. But Hsten, if he takes 
 Me prisoner, to thwart Queen Olga's God — 
 
 Resul. Boris, 
 
 Forsake Queen Olga's God, Perun hath struck 
 This blow on us for faithlessness to him. 
 
 Boris. Resulka dear, believe in Olga's God. 
 [18] 
 
Act I 
 
 Believe in Him; He giveth spring! Perun 
 
 Hath brought us woe. 
 
 ResuIv. But hath protected us 
 
 For ages past, and yesterday there swept 
 
 A hurricane thru every street, where'er 
 
 The Cross was borne, wliilst where Perun passed by. 
 
 But gentle winds abode. 
 
 Boris. Resulka dear 
 
 Resul. O hark ! they're coming back — look, here 
 they are. 
 
 {Enter at the back on the left Ilya and those who left with 
 him a moment before.) 
 
 Ilya. {Waving his hough of greens.) 
 Green grows the earth where spring's lips kiss the soil. 
 The wintry world's wounds now are dressed with 
 
 grass, 
 And stars shine nightly in the sky as gleam 
 A bevy of white swans on the coal black sea ! 
 The stormy winds have passed and carried off 
 Our sorrows, scattering them upon the open plains! 
 
 Yards. The hungry river swallowed what we 
 threw 
 To it. 
 
 Ilya. The dummy's in the watery tomb 
 And winter's gone again. 
 
 (They wave their greens and shout, o5 Kaysan enters at the 
 left, carrying a harp.) 
 
 Boris. Oho, a minstrel in a marten skin! 
 Come tune your harp and throw your sables off! 
 Kay. Good country folk hear plain speech first 
 and then 
 I'll sing whate'er you wish. 
 
 [19] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Ilya. What is it, Kay? 
 
 Kay. Vladimir, from the north, swears at our 
 gods 
 As powerless beings, then wonders at the Cross. 
 I'll stab him with a fish tooth stave, I will. 
 
 Boms. O Kaysan, sing, Vladimir is 
 
 Resul. Boris, hush. 
 
 Ilya. Thou traitor, Boris ! 
 
 Boris. I am not. My land 
 
 Is not Vladimir's, nor my gods, his own. 
 
 Kay. The jewels that I'll weave with silken skeins 
 Into my foot gear, — they shall light my path 
 To where Vladimir's tent is, then my stave 
 
 Boris. Sing, Kaysan, sing; thy songs will stab 
 our hearts, 
 So plan no more than that. 
 
 Kay. O for a whip 
 
 Of seven silks to scourge the infidel. 
 
 Ilya. Sing, Kaysan ; celebrate the spring and let 
 The northern prince be scourged by Perun's mace! 
 
 Yards. We've flung old Winter's rusty chain 
 mail down 
 Upon the stones; its rust is shaken off. 
 And sparkling spring time shines on every link. 
 
 (All dance about Kaysan and shout amid the waving of 
 the boughs and rejoicings. When Kaysan begins to sing, 
 all keep silent.) 
 
 Kay. (Singing in a monotone.) 
 String after string of song, I'll touch and blend 
 Them into one, as streams meet in the flood 
 Of Mother Volga's endless waves. 
 
 Resul. Good, good! 
 
 Sing of Mother Volga ! 
 
 [20] 
 
Act I 
 
 Elena. Yes, Kaysan, sing 
 
 That old, old song of Volga's flood. 
 
 Kay. Then hear ye all ! O from beneath the oak, 
 From willow bushes near the swamps and moss, 
 From forests dark and from the lofty hills, 
 From crimson elms, white curling beeches, flows 
 Forever southward thru the great white world. 
 Forever onward till the earth hath gone, 
 Our Mother Volga river to the sea ! 
 In many bayed green curling lines she rolls ! 
 And from beneath the white alatyr stone,* 
 She rises, rolls and flows into the sea ! 
 Her flood is broad nearby Kasan ; 
 But broader is it near to Astrakhan, 
 For many a tribute river in her flood 
 And many a brook within her bosom pours ! 
 A mighty sweep wide thru the open plain 
 She makes nearby Dalinsky, and along 
 Where Smolensk's gloomy forests hide the bogs : 
 Within a bed of full three thousand versts 
 She sleeps and wakens, rolling to the sea. 
 Then in the Caspian's waves by seventy mouths, 
 She falls and sings in seventy tongues her song. 
 
 Boris. Good! good! 
 
 {All shout for joy.) 
 
 Resul. Dear Kaysan, sing it o'er again. 
 
 Yaros. Our darling Mother Volga knows 'tis 
 
 spring ! 
 Kay. O could her rolling waves change into dews. 
 Their tender drops, as from a mother's breast, 
 
 *Amber found along the Baltic Sea, anciently called by the Slavs, the 
 Latyr Sea. Rivers were supposed to rise from beneath it. 
 
 [21] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Would nurture wintry steppes to life as doth 
 The spring time which ye sing. 
 
 Resul. {Embracing Kaysan.) Dear singer, sing 
 Again ! 
 
 Kay. O give me now great Perun's mace 
 To strike the Prince of Novgorod, who rules 
 In Kief's royal halls and scorns our gods ! 
 
 Boris. Peace, Kaysan, peace. Vladimir is our 
 King, 
 And rules by right. 
 
 {All except Resulka, gather about Boris threateningly.) 
 
 Ilya. Boris, thou art a traitor, — 
 
 Unto our land as well as to our gods. 
 
 Boris. Stand back! Till Perun's mace can swing 
 in air. 
 Boris shall stand where he stands now. 
 
 Resul. Dost thou 
 
 Thus yield unto the Conqueror? 
 
 Boris. Resulka, 
 
 Fear nothing; there's a God ye know not of. 
 
 (Sounds of bells and cymbals heard to the right. All look 
 thither just as four horses haul in a huge sledge on which 
 is a pillar and on the pillar a wheel, upon which sits a man 
 dressed in a peculiar style, with bells and cymbals hang- 
 ing about him. In his hand he holds a loaf of bread and 
 bottle of spirituous liquors. Men and ivomen enter behind, 
 singing and shouting rather incoherently. All pass slowly 
 to the left, whilst all except Resulka, gather around it 
 and follow it.) 
 
 Ilya. Hail to the sun's wheel and the god of 
 festivals ! 
 
 (Shouts and rejoicings.) 
 
 Elena. The sun returns to earth ! 
 Yaros. 'Tis spring indeed! 
 
 [23] 
 
Act I 
 
 Ilya. Fauns, satyrs, sprites; demons of pine 
 wood fire, 
 Come, follow us in worshipping the sun. 
 
 {All, except Resulka, pass out at the left.) 
 
 Resul. The spring time's not entirely joy! My 
 Boris, 
 Let me entreat thee once again ! My gods 
 Be thine! O Boris, hear thy kindred call! 
 There weeps thy mother as a river runs; 
 There weeps thy sister as a streamlet flows; 
 And here I weep, as falls the tender dew ! 
 O rise, dear Sun and gather up my tears, 
 Or straightway to the Dnieper shall I go. 
 And standing on its steep bank, throw my wreath 
 Upon the waters there and Avatch to see 
 Whether it sink or float, thus tell my fate. 
 
 {Enter at the left Vladimir in battle costume, followed by 
 Blude and guard of two.) 
 
 Blude. (Looking hack to the left.) 
 They're bringing Perun from the town, my king. 
 
 Vlad. Ah let them keep it in the town; 'tis there 
 That it belongs. 
 
 Blude. But they wish thee to pay 
 
 A public homage to their chief protector. 
 
 Vlad. I am their chief protector now. Yon town, 
 O'er whose grey domes of aspen wood, doth soar 
 The falcon prince of Novgorod, is mine, 
 All mine, but its mute gods. 
 
 Blude. Hush, hush! 
 
 Vlad. (Flourishing his sword.) Give me 
 
 Such deities that roar like northern seas ; 
 That dig the vales and pile the mountains up ; 
 
 [23] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Such gods who can confront the bellowing deep 
 Like those grim buttresses that make 
 Besieging waves recede and force 
 Their swift retreating billows to contend 
 For th' ocean's spaciousness, wherein, alarmed. 
 At but their own deep vortices, they cry 
 Aloud for truce, as if Thor's hammer hovered near! 
 Blude. Great King, take care, — thou must pro- 
 fess their gods. 
 Vlad. Their gods offend me and these plains 
 beguile 
 My valor; I would heave them into hills 
 Whose peaks were mounds for every idol here. 
 
 Blude. Great King, thou art not king of gods 
 yet, hence 
 Thou canst not trifle with them so. 
 
 Vlad. I am a king of seas and misty deeps ; 
 The Baltic gave me tribute and is mine. 
 Its wildest winds could only curl my hair 
 And thus its frantic fingers crowned my brows. 
 E'en in the pauses of Its sleepless surge, 
 Mute threatenings abode on its white tongues. 
 And tho that tireless and invulnerable sea. 
 Whose waters hurl their flanking phalanxes 
 Against the very mountains frowning brows, 
 Charged with its ceaseless torrents 'gainst my ships, 
 And rose on high to seek celestial aid. 
 Yet my mute bulwarks triumphed o'er their flood, 
 For I am one of Odin's wolves; my power 
 Is pillared 'mongst the silver sands of heav'n 
 Which ocean surges can not shift away. 
 
 Blude. And now thou art become a land king 
 too. 
 
 [24] 
 
Act I 
 
 Vlad. And shall be king of gods and hurl them 
 
 down. 
 Bluue. Not yet, great king; bow first to them 
 thyself; 
 Such homage wins the confidence of all 
 And then thou'lt have more power to do thy will. 
 Vlad. I trust thee, Blude, for thou hast helped 
 
 my cause. 
 Blude. Hark ! here they come ! 
 
 (Enter a group of men and women, led by Aloysha, dressed 
 in a ichite blouse ivUhoiit a girdle. Some carry the idol 
 Perun, whose head is of silver, beard of gold, trunk of 
 hard icood and ichose legs are iron. His hands hold a 
 long wooden mace. The carriers set it doion in front 
 of the knoll, just as Boris, Ilya, Yaroslafna, Elena and 
 Kaysan return, all carrying greens.) 
 
 Aloy. (Standing before Perun.) Hail, Perun, 
 king of gods. 
 Whose motionless rod rules in our Russian world! 
 
 (All bow to Perun with Aloysha except Vladimir and Boris.) 
 
 Aloy. Great king, dost thou deny our god? 
 
 Vlad. I wish 
 
 To bow alone, for your god must behold 
 My tribute separate from all. 
 
 Aloy. Boris, 
 
 What meaneth thy refusal of a bow.? 
 
 Boris. Allegiance to a better god. 
 
 Aloy. Thou infidel! 
 
 May Perun's thunder strike thee dead! 
 
 Kay. September's spleen hath seized him. 
 
 Resul. Boris, bow ; 
 
 For my sake bow unto our god. 
 
 Boris. I can't. 
 
 [25] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Aloy. As arrows make the damp oaks quiver, 
 So may Perun's mace strike fear in thy soul. 
 
 Kay. O Boris, hear! Perun can stand thy stare. 
 Go; worship near a sacred ring-bark oak, 
 Till Perun's flaming dart girds thee about 
 And thunders o'er thy head, but strikes thee not. 
 Then as thy further penance for this blasphemy. 
 Go, lie with thy head in a willow bush. 
 Thy feet in plume grass till the frozen streams 
 Are loosened from the winter's ashen hand, 
 And till small wood birds weave their nests within 
 Thy yellow curls. 
 
 Vlad. Boris, come here to me. 
 
 (As Boris does so, three armed men enter suddenly at the 
 right.) 
 
 1st Man. The Cossacks of the Don ! 
 
 2nd Man. Great king, they come! 
 
 The barbarians threaten us ! They've crossed the Don 
 And will be on us soon ! A mighty host 
 Is coming. O, their horses breath. 
 Breathed on the damp cold air was like a cloud 
 Of steam that hid the fair red sun ! 
 
 1st Man. They'll plough 
 
 The spring soil with their Tartar spears ! 
 
 Vlad. Peace, peace; 
 
 A few men do not make a host upon 
 The open plain, nor is but one dark tree 
 A pine wood forest. 
 
 2nd Man. They can hurl their spears 
 
 As if they were but feathers of the swan. 
 
 Vlad. Our quivers will beat a war song on our 
 hips. 
 While shaggy steeds, curried with fish teeth combs, 
 
 [26] 
 
Act I 
 
 Career so madly thru their lines, that they, 
 Like pebbles, will be tossed into the Turkish Sea, 
 Or have their stubborn skulls knocked so together 
 There'll be no soul left in them. 
 
 Aloy. May thy words 
 
 Be not mere pride's pretense. With Perun's help 
 We shall drive all barbarians back. 
 
 Vlad. My mace 
 
 Of steel is better worth than his. 
 
 Aloy. Great king, 
 
 Art thou blaspheming too.? 
 
 Vlad. {Drawing his sword?) Away, away! 
 All of ye hence but Boris ; take your god ; 
 Transport him hence ! He threatens with a mace 
 But can not walk; he stares with glowing eyes 
 But can not see; his golden beard is long 
 His wits are short; his legs are iron. 
 But his foundation 's sand ; his voice is thunder. 
 But it commands no forces such as mine. 
 A paramount pretense! Take him away! 
 Heav'n is not subterfuge, nor is a god 
 A powerless potentate, not any more than words 
 Are bogs and fertile plains, — take him away! 
 
 {Aloysha moves toward Vladimir threateningly; others 
 follow.) 
 
 BiiUDE. Stand back ! Stand back ! 
 
 Vlad. {To his guard.) Stand ready by your 
 
 king. 
 
 {Guards prepare to defend Vladimir.) 
 
 I say unto you take that thing away. 
 Aloy. Let us depart. 
 
 (The carriers lift up Perun and bear him out at the left. 
 All depart that way but Vladimir, Blude and Boris.) 
 
 [37] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Vlad. And may they stay departed ! 
 
 I am aweary of their gods ; they are 
 As stupid as flat plains that girt me here. 
 I see them in the towns ; yea, everywhere. 
 The great god of the North Sea is not seen, 
 But ah, the Deep is Hke a bondman unto him. 
 
 Boms. My God's not seen but He is everywhere. 
 
 Vlad. What god is that, with such a world-wide 
 scope ? 
 
 Boris. The greatest of all gods; the only God; 
 Whose son is Christ — He governs all things here. 
 
 Vlad. Can he control the seas and plant within 
 The frantic surge, a rocky promontory, 
 Against whose bastions, ocean's snow-white spears 
 Are hurled with no avail.? 
 
 Boris. He can, great king. 
 
 He makes the storms which make the seas rise up. 
 And makes the calm which quells tempestuous waves. 
 
 Vlad. Ah that's a god ; a god who doeth things, 
 Not one that sitteth still on iron legs. 
 Tell me, where is he found? 
 
 Boris. He is invisible. 
 
 Vlad. Like Odin? 
 
 Boris. Greater than he and yet unseen. 
 
 Vlad. Then what's the use in searching after 
 him? 
 
 Boris. There is great use; the searching is the 
 profit. 
 And finding, or cessation of the search, 
 Is self-delusion; He's no captive god. 
 That kings can sport with or adorn. 
 
 Vlad, Where didst 
 
 Thou learn of him? 
 
Act I 
 
 BoEis. In Constantinople. 
 
 Vlad. I'll send my envoys there to learn of him ; 
 I'll send them elsewhere too; the god of gods 
 Be mine ! The god who's stronger still than I, 
 To whom, perforce, I must bow low in homage. 
 And he alone shall be my conqueror. 
 
 Boris. A conquest which the conquered wins. 
 
 Vlad. I do not understand thee, Boris. 
 
 Boris. When my God 
 
 Doth make a conquest He restores the spoils 
 Of victory unto the conquered one. 
 His ravages need no revenge. 
 
 Vlad. O let me sleep; your god may weary me. 
 Here by these two bare mounds I shall lie down, 
 So watch ye over me from yonder point. 
 
 {Points to the left beyond the scenes. Vladimir lies down 
 in front of the mounds and sleeps. As Blude and Boris 
 move to the left, Resulka enters that way; Blude passes 
 out; Boris and Resulka face each other an instant.) 
 
 Resul. Let me entreat thee for our fathers' gods ! 
 
 worship thou with me ; do not forsake 
 
 Our gods that give the spring and mossy turf. 
 
 1 am so grieved I wander everywhere; 
 
 In forests to my dark green oaks, but there 
 My sorrow cutteth like an axe and then 
 I wander in the open fields, but there 
 It Cometh like a scythe to mow my heart. 
 I lie in leafy shades, yet sorrow there 
 Is as the parching sun upon the steppes. 
 And like a haggard witch that steals the dew. 
 It sits beside my pillow as I sleep. 
 And moans like pining cuckoos in my dreams. 
 O Boris, dear, soon I shall die of grief; 
 
 [29] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Be buried in a damp earth grave 
 
 That sorrow, hke a spade, hath dug for me. 
 
 Boris. Grief maketh a divining woman of thee; 
 Forethink no sadness; then alone twill come. 
 Thy gods are many, but our love is one. 
 My God is everywhere, thine here alone; 
 Forsake thine idols and thy grief shall go. 
 
 Resul. O Boris, I am weary ; what a world ! 
 I sang of spring with winter in my heart. 
 
 Boris. The springtime is the birth time; grow 
 with me. 
 Do not be dead with idols; rise with spring. 
 Mute pilots made of sable woods but bear 
 The forest's darkness in their eyes ; gold gleams 
 On Perun's beard are mimic hghts; 
 His silver lustre is a bauble's lure, 
 A trinket's test of soul capacity. 
 His firm clasped mace he can not even wave, 
 But holdeth as an armoury wall doth hold 
 The rusted lances of an outworn age. 
 Thou wouldst not invocate that drear dumb thing 
 That thus dissembles mighty God himself 
 In man's mosaics, pieced with wood and gold.? 
 O let it be a monument for death, — 
 For sanguine incantations and incessant hopes 
 That dash themselves to pieces on its ears. 
 Then thou canst mount unto the unseen God, 
 Upon this idol-stepping stone thus cast away. 
 
 Resul. What idol wilt thou give when Perun's 
 gone. 
 Who blesseth me so well and blesseth all.'* 
 He blesseth ploughs and furrows, com and grass 
 That riseth rich as rushes near the streams; 
 
 [30] 
 
Act I 
 
 He driveth hail clouds from the moors 
 
 And dowers thriving crops with shine and rain. 
 
 His mace, — it need not move, yet ruleth all 
 
 This great white world beyond the coal black sea. 
 
 Boris. What can I give thee but the living God 
 Whose Heav'n and Earth appeared upon a thought.'' 
 If thou demandest idols, take them both, 
 Instead of that dumb fraction of the whole, 
 Transported from the Asian wilds. 
 Why worship such mere patches, mute and dead, 
 Or gird thyself with straw belts, torn too soon? 
 O love the God that loveth thee as I ! 
 
 Resul. Can I forsake thee, Perun, god of old 
 And like the wandering falcon, have no nest? 
 
 Boms. Resulka make thy nest with me. 
 
 {Blude enters suddenly from the left.) 
 Blude. And still 
 
 He sleeps. 
 Boris. Yes. 
 BiiUDE. Both of you come with me then. 
 
 (Blude, Boris and Resulka go out at the left. As they 
 do so the ghosts of Rogneda's father and brother, mur- 
 dered by Vladimir, arise from the mounds, and, brandish- 
 ing weapons, hover over the king, when he suddenly 
 awakens.) 
 
 ViiAD. The night's pale, spectral tresses, glisten- 
 ing 
 liike arctic lights, crowd round me here — nay, ye are 
 
 ghosts , 
 Thin demons that would scourge my fearless soul. 
 Begone; sink with your ill importing visages 
 Into those earthen cells. 
 
 (Pause.) What! ye will not? 
 [31] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Then brandish your pale weapons as ye will 
 
 Or plant them on yon mounds and then kneel down 
 
 Unto such war gods to invoke their aid 
 
 To help thee take my life. Hence, phantoms, hence! 
 
 I fear nor ye nor any ghosts. Shall I, 
 
 Who hath confronted ocean's hugest waves 
 
 That made my barge quake with their heavy charge; 
 
 Who conquered Novgorod and Kief too, 
 
 Whose step plants vales within these plains and thus 
 
 Makes mountains where none were before, recoil 
 
 From demons, famished for revenge, that spring 
 
 Out of my conquered enemies ? Begone ! 
 
 {The ghosts walk about him threateningly.) 
 
 Ye bodiless besiegers, fret yourselves 
 
 With desperate prancing, I shall sleep again. 
 
 {They continue to hover around him.) 
 
 1st Gh. A magic sleep we'll cast upon thee here. 
 2nd Gh. A magic spell that cometh from the 
 
 dead. 
 Vlad. Your whitened forms belie your black 
 
 designs. 
 1st Gh. Whose tears didst thou pour in the 
 
 marriage cup.'' 
 2nd Gh. Whose nuptial kerchief didst thou spot 
 
 with blood.'* 
 Vlad. Contemptible accusers, hence, or else 
 I '11 drive my sword thru your lean pallid forms. 
 1st Gh. Thou soiled the white betrothal-taper 
 
 wax. 
 2nd Gh. Thou filled the bridal coffers with thy 
 
 curse. 
 
 [32] 
 
Act I 
 
 Vlad. Pale wizards, hark! Why do ye taunt me 
 thus? 
 Know ye that I am one of Odin's wolves? 
 The fiercer one; hence, or I'll snap my jaws. 
 
 1st Gh. Thy vampire jaws will soon be sewn 
 
 together. 
 2nd Gh. Moist mother-earth will ne'er decay 
 thy corpse. 
 She doth not take a vampire to herself. 
 
 Vlad. Begone, twin phantoms, whence ye came; 
 begone ! 
 
 (Vladimir arises and thrusts his sword at them, hut they 
 disappear suddenly and Eogneda comes out of the cabin. 
 She is about to strike Vladimir with her dagger, lohen 
 he turns about suddenly and eludes the blow.) 
 
 RoG. Thou 'st killed their mortal parts; their 
 spir'ts still live. 
 To goad thy soul forever with their taunts ; 
 To show that Earth's allotment is not Heav'n's; 
 To show thee that the wolf's tooth can be filed 
 With incorporeal weapons that they use. 
 O thou brute conqueror, thou murderer. 
 My martyred kinsmen's ghosts, tho now unseen, 
 Flare at thee tho thy futile sword is raised. 
 These mounds wherein they lie are direful graves 
 Heaped high toward heav'n t' escape the hell thou 
 
 wouldst 
 Have thrust them to, — so plant thy falchion here 
 A sign of mimic conquest of their souls. 
 Because it can but pierce the dust of earth. 
 
 Vlad. Bury thy dagger in my living flesh; 
 I'm saturate with some power thou canst not slay, 
 Then I shall draw it out and give it thee, 
 3 [33] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 But my remorseful breast shall never heal 
 Because my sins 'gainst thee are pinioned there. 
 
 (Opens his hauberk.) 
 
 RoG. I had forgiv'n thee all but one, yet thou 
 Didst thrust me forth; my wounds then bled 
 afresh, 
 And here I am defended by these spir'ts 
 Whose fragile fonns thou wouldst destroy 
 
 Vlad. To save myself. 
 
 RoG. From Perun's thunderbolts thou canst not 
 flee. 
 
 Vlad. His thunders are afraid of me and when 
 My shaggy bay steed shakes his sable mane 
 His image trembles and my enemies 
 Run off to refuge, fearing they'll be bound 
 Unto my stirrups by their flowing hair. 
 
 RoG. Proud persecutor, thou 'rt a boaster too; 
 A raven with an iron beak that digs 
 My joys out of the soil of life, and then 
 Thou dost impale my heart on thy gold lance. 
 Tipped with the sharpest steel, and thus I dwell 
 An exile from thy palace by thy will; 
 An orphan, by thy swift and thirsty sword 
 Whose tongue is ever parched with want of blood ; 
 A lover of the gods whom thou dost curse. 
 But not a suppliant before thy power, 
 Tho thou shouldst roar like aurochs and shouldst hiss 
 Like dragons snared in wire grass. Shame on thee, 
 Who treadeth on our land as if it were 
 The stirrup for thy stamping foot; who harasseth 
 Our towns just as the eagle's plumes 
 And tossing feathers vex the placid waves 
 
 [34] 
 
Act I 
 
 In sweeping o'er a lake! O may the hills 
 Be barriers on the roads thou ridest o'er! 
 And may my guardian spirits ruffle thee 
 Till thou, vexed with thyself, dost pray Perun 
 To pardon thy blasphemous words and crimes. 
 
 (Vladimir advances toicard her with his drawn sword, where- 
 upon the two ghosts arise again and step in front of him. 
 All stop.) 
 
 Vlad. Pale sentinels, I fear ye not. Your 
 tongues 
 Whose composition's that of conquered spir'ts, 
 May threaten or implore, — I fear ye not. 
 Therefore depart and trouble me no more. 
 
 {Pause; ghosts remain still.) 
 
 Ye unsubstantial watchmen, shall I slay 
 Ye twice, whit'ning my crimson sword within 
 Your bloodless sides.'* 
 
 1st Gh. Thou canst not slay us, tho 
 
 Thine own insatiate sword were wild for blood. 
 2nd Gh. Bold slayer, thou 'rt a wizard who 
 would steal 
 The moon and eat the sun. 
 
 Vlad. Begone, I say. 
 
 1st Gh. Soon thou shalt slay no more and that 
 fair maid 
 Who sitteth 'neath the white alatyr stone 
 Deep in the Black Sea, sewing up our bleeding 
 
 wounds. 
 Will rest as will thy sword. 
 
 Vlad. Descend 
 
 In thy bald hillock, yonder grave! 
 
 2nd Gh. Thou art 
 
 [35] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 A great black raven that doth raise its wing 
 To shut the light out from our land. 
 
 Vlad. I am 
 
 A white light from the northern land where Odin 
 Flashes his snowy wings o'er midnight skies, 
 Like glowing pennons, on whose flames I come 
 Illumining this southland. See, I raise 
 My sword to be a shining arch, 'neath which 
 I pass to bring lights from the northern climes. 
 
 (He raises his sword over his head and passes under it.) 
 
 1st Gh. 'Neath Perun's mace thy body yet shall 
 
 quail. 
 Vlad. Perun shall yield me bread and salt as 
 tokens 
 Of conquest over him. 
 
 RoG. Blasphemer ! 
 
 Vlad. I shall respect him for a little while 
 But I 'm not held in leash by sable wood. 
 My range is wider than his eyes can see 
 O'er even open plains, no matter where they glance. 
 I am no spendthrift of my loyalty 
 To any of the gods, 'bove all to Perun's mace. 
 (To the ghosts.) 
 
 White demons, conjurers of mishap. 
 Begone or else the whirring of my sword, 
 Will knell your obsequies ! 
 
 (Vladimir approaches them, threatening with his sword.) 
 
 1st Gh. Put by thy sword 
 
 And we shall go. 
 
 2nd Gh. Sheathe it and we'll disappear. 
 
 (Vladimir sheathes his sword and the ghosts vanish into 
 the mounds.) 
 
 [36] 
 
Act I 
 
 Vlad. Go thou as well ; thou art my wife no more. 
 Go from my sight, so that with freer mind, 
 I'll spend the interim until my death. 
 
 RoG. Yes, I shall go and those good spir'ts shall 
 guard 
 My steps and over thee keep watch. But hear 
 Me ere thou driv'st me off. Most mighty King, 
 Thou mayest wave thy sceptre o'er these plains ; 
 Thine avarice may gain command of all; 
 Thy sword slay many and thy cruelty 
 Compel the deserts e'en to flow with tears 
 And rivers to run dry with weeping o'er 
 Our land ; thou may'st fill forests with refugees ; 
 Lay bare our peopled plains ; uproar the calm 
 Of night ; confound the daylight with thy frowns ; 
 Blaspheme the sacredness of royal power; 
 Abjure the names of our divinest gods; 
 Thou mayest even be a North Sea wave 
 That sweepeth o'er these plains to wreak its will. 
 And yet there's one thing more thou'lt be withal, — 
 Forever and forever shalt thou be 
 Accursed since thou'st crushed a woman's heart; 
 Driv'n her from love to hate and filled her soul 
 With quenchless fires, soliciting revenge 
 That she can not inflict. I could exhaust 
 My spirit o'er my tongue or pour it out 
 With speech, but it will ne'er depart from thee 
 And tho thy heart's a desert for want of love. 
 My word shall never cease to rankle there; 
 Its echoes shall not die in emptiness, 
 Tho the recesses of thy soul be blank. 
 Now fare thee well or ill, as best thou canst 
 With this unquiet heritage from my dead heart 
 
 [37] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 That soon will fester in thine own and stir 
 Repentance in thy stony being ; farewell ! 
 
 {Bogneda departs hurriedly at the right. Vladimir follows 
 her with his eyes an instant.) 
 
 Vlad. 'Tis true, I am a North Sea wave and 
 
 thou, 
 Rogneda, art the bay wherein my tide 
 Flowed then receded, leaving wreckage there, 
 Strewn on thy shores. Now thou art turned to 
 
 stone, — 
 A whetstone, sharp'ning what hath long been blunt. 
 My drowsy heart and sluggish soul. 
 What is tliis feeling that I can not name.? 
 What new god giveth it to me? Doth some 
 Strange deity I have not known send this 
 Which I have never felt before? If so, 
 I'll seek him out and find the name of him 
 Who putteth anguish in the breasts of mighty kings. 
 But I must see Rogneda once again. 
 
 (Goes out hastily at the right as Boris enters at the left.) 
 
 Boris. He's gone, 
 
 Yet I must find him, for they'll soon be here. 
 
 {Steps to the right as Besulka hurries in at the left. Boris 
 stops as she approaches him.) 
 
 Resul. O art thou hunting him who conquered 
 us, 
 And who now spurns our gods? 
 
 Boris. Hush, hush. I have 
 
 A message for the king. Trust me and come my 
 way. 
 
 (Boris moves toward the right.) 
 [38] 
 
' Act I 
 
 Resul. I have no part with unbeheving kings. 
 
 Boris. Resulka, thou dost worship wood and 
 stone ; 
 Learn of the Christian God from me. 
 
 Resul. I want 
 
 A god whom I can see and feel and touch. 
 
 Boris. Such is not god. Wait here; I shall 
 Return when I have found the king. 
 
 Resul. Do not go ! 
 
 Boris. I must; farewell. 
 
 Resul. O Boris, remember this : 
 
 I have shed tears enough for thee to melt 
 The winter's snows. 
 
 Boris. {Embracing her.) Then dry them now, 
 my dear; 
 All will be well. Now I must go. 
 
 (^Hurries out at the right.) 
 
 Resul. Wild winds 
 
 Have dashed tears from my cheeks and carried them 
 Afar, as if they were clear crystal stars 
 Beneath the winter's blackened skies ! 
 I've shaken when there was no wind; my cheeks 
 Have oft been watered when there was no rain. 
 Moist mother-Earth is moister by their drops. 
 O, I have moaned with strains the wild winds make 
 In striking on the bells within our aspen domes ! 
 O Svarog, — Perun, give me help! 
 
 {Enter Vladimir and Boris at the right.) 
 
 Vlad. Too late, too late ! And yet what is the use 
 In seeking her who damned me so? 
 
 Boris. Who was it? 
 
 [39] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Vlad. O why should dwarfish feelings mortify 
 A king? I'll not be peaked and pestered so, 
 Nor let this strange new feeling taint my sword 
 With sloth or vitiate a conqueror's will. 
 And yet it hath a perilous root ! Ye gods, 
 Thor, Odin, Perun, cleanse my breast of this ! 
 A giant fettered by a fancy thus ! 
 What was 't she said? I would I could forget! 
 Out, out, ye villain words ! Ye've pierced me thru 
 
 and thru 
 As nothing did before. 
 
 (Pause.) Some god's done this. 
 
 {Vladimir rushes over to the mounds; Resulka clings to 
 Boris in fear.) 
 
 Where are ye now, ye villain ghosts? 
 
 (Flourishing his sword.) Arise! 
 I'll purge you thru and thru with steel and scour 
 These airs clean with my sword's swift strokes ! 
 Aha, ye do not rise, ye coward sentinels ! 
 
 Boris. What is the trouble, my king? 
 
 Vlad. I do not know; 
 
 I can not say if 't be disease ; a god's 
 Glance or a demon's or her dagger words 
 That fester in my soul, but something stings 
 That never hath before and penetrates 
 Within this breast without sword-surgery. 
 O let me conjure up those ghosts again 
 By threats, entreaties, oaths or anything. 
 
 (Leans over the mounds.) 
 
 Ye spirits, rise! Behold I sheathe my sword, 
 
 (Sheathes it.) 
 [40] 
 
Act I 
 
 And prayers succeed its whirring swings. O be 
 Ye gods or anything, come, raze these roots 
 Of anguish that I know not how to meet! 
 
 (Pause.) 
 
 The gods I know, have giv'n me all I have; 
 My strength, my sword, my battles and my joys. 
 This new gift, pain, must come from some new god, 
 Whom I've not known, so I shall placate him 
 To take his gift away and let me be. 
 
 Boris. It is the Christian God who gives and 
 takes away. 
 
 Vlad. Then I shall search him out. The god 
 Who masters me without a mace; who drives 
 This anguish deeper in my soul than e'er 
 Thor's hammer could ; who, unseen, doth approach 
 Despite my staring eyes, and captureth me 
 Despite my whirling sword, ah, such a god 
 Is mine, for what avails my strife 'gainst him.'' 
 
 Boris. Nothing at all, my King. 
 
 Vlad. Then lead me to him. 
 
 Boris. He hath already come to you. 
 
 Vlad. What god 
 
 Hath come to me? 
 
 Boris. The God that captured thee. 
 
 Vlad. I had not thought of it that way. Indeed, 
 A god comes to a king, then I'm repaid 
 For suffering; is 't not so.? 
 
 Boris. In part, but thou 
 
 Must go to him or else thou wilt forget 
 He is with thee. 
 
 Vlad. I can't forget that pain. 
 
 Boris. Then be it with thee ever. 
 [41] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 (Sounds of approaching soldiers heard.) 
 
 Hark; they're coming! 
 Vlad. I had forgotten that a battle's near. 
 
 (Vladimir moves to the left as Blude and the soldiers enter 
 at that side. Behind them are about twenty peasants, 
 some of whom carry Perun, led by Aloysha.) 
 
 The thought of conquest conquers pain and thrills 
 My arms with power to rain the arrows down 
 Upon our foes. 
 
 Aloy. Invoke great Perun's blessing first; 
 
 Bow down to him as doth become the king 
 Of our most blessed land. 
 
 Vlad. Take thy god away. 
 
 I've found a stronger one. 
 
 Aloy. Blaspheming yet.? 
 
 Thou infidel, bow down or else our arms 
 Shall fail, no matter who may be our king. 
 
 Vlad. Take thy god away. 
 
 Aloy. Wilt thou deny him twice.? 
 
 Vlad. Yea, thrice, and ne'er again shall I bow 
 Down to him or post his images 
 About the land. 
 
 (Plants his sword in the ground.) 
 
 There; that's my god of war. Now watch 
 Me bow to it. 
 
 (Bows to his sword.) 
 
 Aloy. (Bowing before Perun.) Gracious Perun, 
 withhold 
 Thy thunders from us ; stay thy wrath, 
 Grant us the victory altho the king 
 Doth desecrate thy presence, spurning thee. 
 Thou great surveyor of our fortunes, may 
 
 [42] 
 
Act I 
 
 Thine eyes see our success; thy mace be our 
 
 Best sword; thy power, our captain and our guide. 
 
 (To the soldiers.) 
 
 Perun's appeased, so have no fear. Great King, 
 Now lead them on to battle, I have prayed. 
 
 Vlad. And I; but to a different god who vests 
 His power in me, who am not lifeless wood. 
 
 (He takes a position in front of the soldiers; adjusts his 
 hauberk, and flourishes his sword.) 
 
 The King goes forth to war; watch ye his sword 
 
 That can prop mountains on its point and cleave 
 
 Thru pagan ranks. A litter of lynxes, we. 
 
 Who'll drive them hence, like ermines in the reeds; 
 
 A bevy of falcons we, who'll hover o'er 
 
 A flock of swans, that, fleeing our attack. 
 
 Will splash their snow white pinions in the coal black 
 
 sea! 
 O tramp the plains unto the fray and let 
 Our enemies sheathe their blunted swords within 
 Our chain mail hauberks! We will sow the river 
 
 banks 
 With pagan bones ; our empty quivers refill 
 With gems ; our helmets with their arrow points ; 
 Our mouths with green wine and with wheaten flour. 
 And we will make the pagan maids our wives, 
 For Perun's winds will blow our arrows straight. 
 And dark woods shall be turned to coffin planks. 
 And we shall hear the ravens croak at night 
 As they divide the dead. Trust ye my sword and me. 
 Beholding whom, the pagans will retreat! 
 An arrow head's length lies between my eyes; 
 While fires flash from them as from northern heav'ns. 
 
 [43] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 I am a sea king and an ocean wave ; 
 
 A land king; yea, a hungry grey wolf too 
 
 That prowls o'er plains to snap its prey at will ! 
 
 Advance then with my strides and trust my sword. 
 
 (Vladimir leads Blude and the soldiers away at the right. 
 Aloysha and the carriers of Perun depart at the left; 
 Boris and Besulka linger in a farewell embrace.) 
 
 Resul. O Boris, I'll lament thee when thou'st 
 
 gone. 
 My gods, watch over him ! Forget our arms 
 In keeping Boris safe! O every night 
 The light of virgin wax will burn like hopes 
 Decreasing if thou cometh not! The winds 
 Will scatter o'er the battle field 
 My travelling glances, searching 'mongst the dead 
 For thee. O love me ever ! Perun, then, 
 Shall make thee paths thru arrows thick as forests 
 
 are; 
 Thru lances pointing Hke a sheath of stars. 
 O love our gods, then, tho the pagan horses fly 
 As thick and fast as falcons chasing doves. 
 They will divide to let thee thru ! Altho 
 Their hoof prints be so deep that fountains gush 
 Forth from them, yet their waters will not flood 
 Thy limbs, and tho the Khan plucked forests up 
 And swept the plains with brush wood pines, thou 
 
 wouldst 
 Not e'en be touched. O love me, love my gods ! 
 Boris. Love will not rust with parting nor thy 
 
 gods 
 Avenge my battling with another faith. . 
 What thy gods do, mine doth and more. 
 Farewell; I shall return if 't be His will. 
 
 [44] 
 
Act I 
 
 {Besulka weeps.) 
 
 Weep not; the power of thy falling tears 
 Will hold me to thy breast against my will. 
 I must to battle; see, the maidens come! 
 
 (Points to the left, then looks beyond the scenes to the 
 right.) 
 
 Vladimir's sword gleams in the air; it calls 
 Me hence; farewell. 
 
 (Boris embraces her and departs at the right as Yaroslafna, 
 Elena, Ilya and a few boys and girls come in at the left.) 
 
 Ilya. We'll let the Cossacks fight for we must 
 play 
 Our spring time revels to appease the gods 
 Who're angered with Vladimir's slights upon them. 
 So let us sing to them in gratitude 
 For all the spring joys that we have. 
 
 Elena. Yes, yes. 
 
 (The boys and girls wave their greens and shout.) 
 
 Yaros. The wheel hath gone, but not the spring. 
 
 Ilya. The robber Hetman of the Don 
 With oars of toughened pine from Tver, 
 Rows up and down the river on 
 A boat with oar locks made of fir. 
 
 Yards. Vladimir rows with his sword. 
 
 Ilya. And has oarlocks 
 
 Of many soldiers. 
 
 Elena. Sing of spring, not war. 
 
 Resul. Yes, yes, forget the warriors' song. 
 
 Yaros. O flew the nightingale last night 
 To coppices green and birchwoods bright, 
 And sang of my love whose crimson cheeks 
 Are like the red sun's dawning streaks; 
 [45] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Whose crystal eyes and blackened brows 
 Are forests deep for love's carouse! 
 He sang and flew 
 Ere morning's dew 
 With pearls bedecked the meadow side: 
 Well for the bridegroom and his bride! 
 Ilya. Give us more songs, like falcons flying in 
 
 a line. 
 Yaros. Resulka sing your song. 
 
 Resul. 
 
 The oak tree's bending, bending low 
 Altho the cuckoo's flown; 
 Dear oak tree mine, why is it so.'* 
 Why do thy young leaves moan.? 
 
 And I am bending, bending down; 
 
 My wand'ring falcon's fled, 
 The cuckoo sad sits like a crown 
 
 Upon my lowering head. 
 
 Ilya. Resulka, what a dirge! Why, 'tis as if 
 A black bird waved her wing and thus shut out 
 The spring's light with a feather. Sing again. 
 Resul. Another time. The heart hath eyes that 
 see 
 E'en in the dark. 
 
 Ilya. A maiden's heart is like 
 
 A forest deep. Come, Kaysan, what's your song. 
 Kaysan. O what is spring when that strange 
 king doth sow 
 Our freshened furrows with tears? O I have seen 
 Too many tears and too few springs, but ne'er 
 The spring and tears together as today. 
 
 [46] 
 
Act I 
 
 Ilya. Don't weep, Kay, as the others do. 
 Moustaches 
 For honour, but e'en goats have beards, you know. 
 Kaysan. 'Tis true, and tho the pine is always 
 green 
 It often moans. 
 
 Ilya. Tho sorrow seldom kills, 
 
 It often bhghts. Resulka watch thyself. 
 May Perun make thee fleshy, rosiness 
 Thou canst get alone. 
 
 Resul. O Ilya, hush. 
 
 Yards. Boys wave your boughs again to greet the 
 spring 
 Once more. 
 
 {The boys wave their boughs.) 
 
 Ilya. Now Elena, with one sweet song 
 
 Our revels shall conclude. 
 
 Elena. (Taking a bough from one of the boys 
 and flourishing it about.) 
 
 Now sow the millet; Spring is here! 
 
 Our golden goblets fill with cheer! 
 
 Thru currant bushes flow the streams. 
 
 And thru the clouds the warm sun beams. 
 
 Ye blessed gods, the day is done, 
 
 But glory ! Spring hath just begun ! 
 All. (Singing.) 
 
 Ye blessed gods, the day is done 
 
 But glory! Spring hath just begun. 
 
 {The boys wave their greens and shout and march around; 
 bells are heard ringing from the left and evening comes 
 on.) 
 
 End of Act I. 
 [47] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 ACT II. SCENE I. 
 
 On the balcony of one of Kief's royal palaces over- 
 looking the Dnieper River and the plains. 
 
 (Aloysha and Akim enter at the left and gaze afar of over 
 the river and 'plains towards the east. Time: near 
 evening. 
 
 Akim. I see no signs of them. 
 
 Aloy. None at all.? 
 
 Akim. No. 
 
 Aloy. Ah if he's slain 'tis vengeance of the gods. 
 
 Akim. And if he's not.? 
 
 Aloy. The gods mean me to make 
 
 Revenge. Stop searching; listen to my plan. 
 Thou art the craftiest man in Kief, Akim; 
 Thou'lt murder liim 
 
 Akim. For seven thousand roubles; 
 
 He is a king. 
 
 Aloy. Hush, not so loud. 
 
 Akim. I'll do 't. 
 
 AiiOY. But wait; the pagan Cossacks may have 
 killed 
 Him in the fray ; if not the gods will cry 
 For vengeance in my soul. The money's thine 
 If thou canst do it well. 
 
 Akim. With my companions 
 
 It can be done. 
 
 Aloy. Hold ; who are they .? 
 
 Akim. The first 
 
 One is the dark night and the second one, 
 My knife of steel; the third, my splendid steed; 
 The fourth, my toughened bow and last, the fifth, 
 My arrow messenger that does the deed. 
 
 [48] 
 
Act II Scene I 
 
 Aloy. O when thou doest thy work may thunders 
 roar 
 And winds blow that would rend the earth asunder 
 To make a furrow for Vladimir's grave, 
 Or throw his body on the threshing floor 
 Where wizard flails would winnow out his soul. 
 
 Akim. Thou art incensed with him. 
 
 Aloy. I am; 
 
 So are our gods and e'en the spir'ts 
 Of our dead ancestors. From the abysm 
 Of Russia's history they cry; within 
 This hard earth's walls their murmurs echo loud 
 And all the gods join with their dire complaint. 
 Now dost thou understand? They bid thee kill. 
 Will these wide plains encompass but one god, 
 Vladimir, god and king? Then they have shrunk 
 And Russia is too small or he too large. 
 His swollen power and his lengthening sword 
 Chafe gods and men. O ! I am maddened and grieved. 
 
 {Enter Kaysan and an old man. The music of a harp heard 
 from within the palace.) 
 
 Kaysan. Doth he come? 
 Aloy. No ; and if he comes, he dies. 
 
 And if he doth not come at all, he's dead. 
 
 {The old man looks over the plains anxiously; bows down 
 low and clasps his amulet.) 
 
 Kaysan. (To Aloysha.) Be careful; thou art 
 
 marked his enemy. 
 Aloy. {Touching the amulet hanging about his 
 neck.) 
 Vladimir can not harm me, Kaysan. 
 These knotted bat's wings bar the warrior's spear; 
 4 [49] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Entangle threatening bows in willow trees 
 And lock their arrows in repose; fear not. 
 
 Akim. Doth king Vladimir wear an amulet? 
 
 Aloy. Nay; pagans can not get them. 
 
 Kaysan. But his eye's 
 
 His amulet; just look in it and feel 
 Thy daring die away. 
 
 Akim. Vladimir's eye 
 
 Can not unbend my bow. 
 
 A1.0Y. He is not coming yet; 
 
 Let us depart. 
 
 {Yaroslafna and Elena enter hastily.) 
 
 Yards. O is there any sign 
 
 Of Boris, — never mind the king. 
 
 Aloy. And why.? 
 
 Yaros. Resulka 's in despair. 
 Aloy. Bring her to us. 
 
 {Yaroslafna and Elena depart.) 
 
 Old Man. I'll speak to her. 
 
 Aloy. But Boris hath abjured 
 
 Our gods, — he is a Christian now. 
 
 Old Man. Alas, 
 
 He hath abjured what I have kept so long. 
 Our youths go not our fathers' ways. 
 
 {Yaroslafna with a harp, and Elena, leading Resulka, enter.) 
 
 Dear maid Resulka, Boris hath not come 
 And may not, for this absence, so prolonged, 
 Betides some ill, I fear, to our brave men. 
 
 Resul. O let me stay and weep then; pour my 
 tears 
 Out with my overflowing heart's complaint! 
 Aloy. Come then, let us depart. 
 [50] 
 
Act II Scene I 
 
 (Aloysha, Akim, Kaysan and the old man depart after 
 making searching glances over the -plains, darkening with 
 the approach of evening.) 
 
 Yaros. Resulka, dear, 
 
 My harp of maple wood hath sweeter tones 
 Than those it gave before, may it not sing 
 And soothe thy troubled heart? 
 
 Resul. Play as thou wilt. 
 
 (Yaroslafna plays upon it, whilst Resulka scans the plains 
 anxiously looking for some sign of the returning army, 
 then she buries her head in her hands and weeps.) 
 
 Elena. (Embracing Resulka.) Weep no more. 
 
 Resul. Then let me sing, for grief 
 
 Must have its cry, ere it be gone. 
 And if it vanishes the hastier by tears 
 Then let me sing my weeping heart to rest. 
 
 Yards. (Silencing her harp.) Sing, sing, 
 Resulka, for my harp has ceased. 
 
 Resul. {Looking out on the plains and singing.) 
 My soul is dark and sad; the sun is dim; 
 Beneath the sword our soldiers fall at Rim; 
 Upon the warrior's bier our soldiers lie. 
 And with his wounds, Vladimir loud doth cry. 
 Our men have fallen 'neath the pagan host. 
 And Boris, my beloved, he is lost. 
 The grass hath withered and the leaves are shed; 
 The days are dark; our silver streams are red; 
 Gloom echoes in our palaces of gold. 
 And all unfavored is our prowess bold. 
 The falcon's wings are clipped; no more, no more 
 Above the hosts of Don will Boris soar! 
 Sing with Resulka, maids ; sing for our chief ; 
 Thy singing to my heart will bring relief. 
 The plaintive music of the harp string's tear 
 
 [51] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Let fall with murmurs on my lonely ear. 
 
 (Resulka pauses; Yaroslafna plays a chord on her harp.) 
 The matin bells have rung; the day's begun, 
 Yet in my heart there riseth now no sun. 
 Each morn I pray beside the strong-walled town 
 Where Dnieper's waters o'er the land flow down: 
 O River take my shining tears to sea, 
 That they may light my Boris home to me. 
 
 {Yaroslafna plays again on her harp and gradually the 
 darkness of evening grows, the stars begin to shine and 
 bells are heard ringing afar off.) 
 
 When vesper chimes with music fill the land, 
 And twilight dews, the sun's last rays expand. 
 Again beside the river flowing down 
 Forever past Vladimir's strong walled town, 
 For my beloved warrior I sing 
 And loud across the steppes the echoes ring! 
 Thou bringest, O Sun, thy warmth and joy to all, 
 Why doth thy burning beam on Boris fall.? 
 Why hast thou in the desert dried his bow. 
 With sorrow sealed his quiver and with woe? 
 My heart throb shakes the reeds that live beside 
 The restless waters of the Dnieper's tide. 
 
 how shall Boris now assuage his heart. 
 
 Or how avoid Khan's arrow's cruel dart? 
 
 Weep with Resulka, maids, 'twill bring relief; 
 
 Send too, thy tears to beacon home my chief. 
 
 (Elena wipes Resulka's tears away; Yaroslafna plays a few 
 chords; night comes on, and the winds blow mists up 
 from the river.) 
 
 To-night my song swells louder yet I hear 
 The wroth winds rudely trespass on my ear. 
 
 1 weep, repressing every throb and sigh; 
 
 [53] 
 
Act II Scene I 
 
 I gaze despairing on the cold, black sky; 
 The dank mists girt me as I toss and grope, 
 'Tis night, 'tis midnight and no star nor hope ! 
 O Perun, thou who knowest, doest best. 
 Give me my Love, or give eternal rest. 
 Sing with Resulka, maids, sing for her chief. 
 Her heart hath broken 'neath so great a grief. 
 
 (Elena embraces Resulka while Yaroslafna plays on her 
 harp. Bogneda enters, clad in a long white gown.) 
 
 RoG. I heard thy singing from the river bank; 
 It hath enticed me here and helps me tear 
 These iron-fetters from my heart. 
 
 Yards. And art 
 
 Thou too, Rogneda, sorrowing.'' 
 
 RoG. My grief 
 
 Hath blackened bluest skies ; made stars appear 
 As silver sweat drops from the heart of heav'n, 
 And my misplaced and disprized love 
 The tragic mis-step of my heart. O what 
 Is life, when that which life is, is destroyed? 
 O what's the world when diademed with crowns 
 That pierce my brow and armoured with chain mail 
 That clamps my heart, and girdled with the sword 
 Vladimir wields.'^ 
 
 Yards. O be at peace and hear 
 
 The fetters falling from the troubled world. 
 
 Rdg. {Embracing Yaroslafna.) 
 The spir'ts of murdered kinsmen follow me, 
 Compelling rites of anguish everywhere. 
 
 (Shouts and clangor of arms; sounds of horses' hoofs are 
 heard approaching.) 
 
 Yards. It is Vladimir home from the field again ! 
 [53] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Resul. {Shouting over the balcony.) O Boris, 
 art thou there? 
 
 Boris. {From below.) Boris is here. 
 
 Resul. O he hath come! As darkness shows 
 The silvered stars, so out of blackest grief 
 Comes greatest joy! Deceptive sorrow, flee! 
 False night that feigneth sadness, painting love 
 As sable as thy murkiness, away ! 
 O now my glowing eyes fill blackest heav'n 
 With light and dim the envious stars that could 
 Not pierce the gloom ! O let the night 
 Ne'er have an end ; love's light illumes the plains ! 
 
 {More sounds of arms and horses heard.) 
 O happy clangors; joyful clash of steel! 
 War steeds, strike music from the ground again ! 
 Your pawing hoofs beat joyful marches now! 
 The spear points strike the hauberk's chord of steel 
 And from their iron fingers, melodies 
 Spring forth and charm my heart to song! 
 O happy helmets, lovely swords, sweet bows 
 That now make music with their stretching cords. 
 Better than harps of maple wood are ye! 
 Your martial measures that once filled the field 
 Are now love's rhythms echoing in my heart ! 
 And your alarms that frightened pagan ears, 
 To me are but my love's sweet murmurings ! 
 O I had never known nor dreamed 
 The chorals of cold steel could charm me so. 
 O sound again, sweet swords, and clash, ye spears ; 
 Lance-laden horsemen, leap so I may hear 
 The ravishing music of the warriors' arms ! 
 
 {Enter Boris, armed and travel stained, with two attend- 
 ants, bearing lights.) 
 
 [54] 
 
Act II Scene I 
 
 Boris. Resulka, here am I ! 
 
 Resul. {Turning and falling into his embrace.) 
 And here am I! 
 Here let me be forever in this sweet, 
 Perpetual apparel of my lover's arms ! 
 O heavenly embrace! No dower of gods 
 Is more to be desired! I'll rest in them 
 As thou didst rest in golden stirrups to ride 
 Upon the battle field! 
 
 Boris. Yes, rest in them. 
 
 They have hurled lances ; wielded swords and dirks, 
 But now they hold a blessed burden for love. 
 Not war, which they shall never cast away. 
 
 Resul. O didst thou win the battle, Boris? 
 
 Boris. We did. 
 
 We poured our arrows out like burning wine. 
 And clove their helmets with our flashing swords. 
 
 Resul. O how I love thee! Would I could have 
 seen 
 One gleam of thy swift circling blade, it would 
 Have been a beam to glow within 
 The midmost midnight when I wept for thee ! 
 
 Boris. Then great Vladimir drove them from the 
 field. 
 And, like a falcon chasing ravens forth. 
 Scattered them wide upon the open plains, 
 But brave and trusted Blude fell in the fray. 
 
 Resul. O glory ! Perun triumphs o'er the pagan 
 gods. 
 And hath been merciful to thee ! 
 
 Boris. (Disengaging himself ,) Resulka! 
 
 Forget that name, for Perun is not God. 
 
 [55] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 (Vladimir, clad in battle array, enters, followed by Akim, 
 disguised, and by tivo attendants with lights.) 
 
 Vlad. Behold the conqueror! Behold your king 
 Whose arm now stretches from the Baltic wilds 
 To plains beyond the Don; whose sword doth gleam 
 In swifter flashes than the northern lights; 
 Whose steeds without the wings of Pegasus 
 Can leap the Dnieper at a bound; whose eye 
 Bewilders lightnings ; as they flash, 
 Their trident forks grow pallid seeing my sword, 
 Which, when aloft, seems as a comet in the night. 
 And streaks the coal black sea with silver seams ! 
 Then hail the conqueror whose mighty sword 
 Makes e'en Thor's hammer envious. 
 
 Boris. All hail 
 
 To great Vladimir! 
 
 Akim. All hail to the king! 
 
 Resul. Hail ! 
 
 Elena. Hail ! 
 
 Yaros. All hail our king! 
 
 {Silence an instant.) 
 
 Vlad. Who's that who doth 
 
 Not greet the king. 
 
 {Attendants hold the lanterns up to Rogneda.) 
 
 Rogneda, is it thou.^ 
 Thou in my palace yet.? Thou who didst leave 
 Me with thy noisy curses once, returneth 
 To mar the tributes to my power 
 By thine insinuating silence now? 
 Cry ' Hail the king ' and let your curses go ! 
 {Pause.) 
 
 Thy silence is reproachful; speak! 
 
 [56] 
 
Act II Scene I 
 
 RoG. I'll speak 
 
 But words that burn thee to thy soul and show 
 Thy doom. O Conqueror, conquered shalt thou be; 
 Thy sword may flash, but soon another light 
 Outshining it, shall make 't invisible; 
 Thine eyes may gleam, but other fires shall glow 
 Where now thy savage orbs give lustre to the dark, 
 And thou, a servant to another king, 
 Shall cry all hail to him, — thus I greet thee. 
 
 Vlad. (Advancing towards Rogneda.) 
 I conquered? Never; who can slay this king 
 Hath yet to touch a sword. Dost thou not know 
 I have been nurtured by the trumpet sound; 
 Yea, cradled in a helmet; rocked on waves; 
 My flaxen hair hath blown in Baltic winds. 
 I have been fed with spear points and my quiver holds 
 As many arrows as a wide ravine; 
 My bow bends as an oak and when I grasp 
 A sword, my very grip upon it, whets its edge. 
 Why dost thou come here then with damning 
 
 prophecies. 
 Howling like storms in mountain clefts and thus 
 Dissemble nemesis before my eyes? 
 
 RoG. I am frail virtue wrapped in palHd flesh. 
 The sight of whom doth anger thee because 
 Thou 'st sinned against my life. 
 
 Vlad. Well, what of that? 
 
 Thou canst not harm me now; I'm far beyond 
 Thy reach, hence do not try to cross this gulf, 
 Spanned by thee with a bridge of words, to reach 
 A feast of bones. 
 
 RoG. As when the falcon moults 
 
 He drives the birds away, so moult thy sins 
 
 [57] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 And then thou'lt be a desert where there is nor good 
 Nor bad; shunned by each man and hence 
 Thou canst begin anew, a valorous virtuous king, 
 Whose heart's not forged with steel but human blood, 
 And tempered by a woman's sorrowing. 
 
 Vlad. No, no; distempered by a woman's words. 
 Leave me; thou hearest. Evil genius, leave. 
 
 {VladiTTiir advances still nearer toward Rogneda, flourishing 
 his sivord, at which instant, the ghosts of her murdered 
 father and brother arise and stand at either side of her.) 
 
 Vlad. Aha, my flashing sword that soweth fire 
 And scattereth mine enemies and bringeth death, 
 Revives the dead ! Gifted by gods it is ! 
 And whom it striketh down by but one flourish, 
 It raiseth up with two and sendeth back 
 With three! O master weapon, whirl again! 
 
 (He flourishes his sword three times around, but the ghosts 
 remain.) 
 
 1st Gh. Thy sword shall henceforth sow nor fire, 
 
 nor death. 
 2nd Gh. The sheath will close its eyes and quench 
 
 its fire. 
 Vlad. Away, false prophetess and take thy 
 spirits 
 That conjure in the name of other worlds. 
 (Pause.) 
 
 What, thou wilt not.? Then for this silent mutiny 
 Against my will, be like a leaf before 
 The northern wind; a grass blade 'neath 
 The land king's iron sandal or a wave 
 Before the sea-king's bark and ride upon 
 My sword point thus before my cavalcade. 
 
 [58] 
 
Act II Scene I 
 
 {Lunges forward with his sword pointed at Rogneda, just 
 as Akim, crouching near her, takes his how from under 
 his cloak and aims at him. Rogneda, seeing Akim's in- 
 tentions, springs between him and Vladimir, just as Akim 
 shoots, thus receiving the arrow from his bow and falling 
 dead at the king's feet. The ghosts depart and the at- 
 tendants seize Akim.) 
 
 ViiAD. Hold him fast, men ; what villain can he 
 be? 
 
 (Looking at Rogneda lying dead.) 
 
 Thou 'st ridden upon an arrow point to death 
 Whilst I had rather have thee go astride 
 My sword ! But yet thou art Vladimir's shield ; 
 Traducer turned protector. The lance that lurked 
 To kill the king, hath the king's accuser, 
 Because she sacrificed her life for his. 
 O woman, how thy words belied thy heart ! 
 Now thy recumbent tongue speaks true. 
 Petitioning as ne'er before. Thy silence 
 Roars in my hollow heart; thy fast closed eyes 
 Now dart their burning fires into my soul, 
 And thy recumbent body threatens me! 
 Thy death reproaches; what is it I feel.^ 
 Nor all the wordy threats, nor all the hosts 
 Of my slain enemies, my captive lands. 
 Nor those I've killed, could have produced 
 This most unnatural pang. But one of all 
 The thousands I have felled, has fallen across 
 My heart ! It is the bloodiest 
 And most unconquerable field of all. 
 But since thou liest there, Rogneda, 
 I'll bury thee within its living soil. 
 And on thy grave, deep hollowed by that arrow, 
 I'll pour my helmet full of tears I should 
 
 [59] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Have wept before ! And from that crystal mound, 
 Reflecting love's light, which nor winds nor rains 
 Of Time shall ever wear away, thy ghost 
 Shall rise to rule my savage soul, whene'er 
 I raise my sword to do a wrong. 
 
 (Holds up his su^ord before his eyes.) 
 
 thou false comet, go in thy murky sheath. 
 
 (Sheathes it.) 
 
 I'll not need thy light for such dire misdeeds 
 
 1 would have put thee to, to-night. 
 Maids, take her body up and bear it hence. 
 She rose against me, but more wilHngly 
 Sank down to death that I might live. 
 
 (Taroslafna, Besulka and Elena bear Bogneda's body away.) 
 Guards, bring that man here. 
 
 (The guards bring Akim before Vladimir.) 
 
 What madest thou do this.? 
 Akim. (Throwing off his disguise.) 
 Great King, 'twas seven thousand roubles did it. 
 Vlad. What, Akim, is it thou.'' Whose roubles.? 
 
 quick ! 
 Akim. I do not know whose they were. 
 V1.AD. Aloysha's ? 
 
 Akim. I can not tell; I know not. 
 Vlad. Take him hence. 
 
 Imprison him. 
 
 (Two guards go out with Akim as a rnessenger enters.) 
 
 Mess. An embassy awaits thee. King. 
 Vlad. Let it wait. 
 
 (Messenger departs.) 
 [60] 
 
Act II Scene I 
 
 BoKis. (Seeing Vladimir in a meditative 
 attitude.) 
 Thy soul is sagging with this sorrow, King; 
 My God alone can bind it up ; His chords 
 Can never stretch as bow strings. If thy heart's 
 A vault where lieth one whose angry speech 
 Hath donned the dirge's tone, O quicken it 
 By sympathy to song, for song will yield 
 More peace than vibrant bow strings whir, 
 Or arrow's hiss or hauberks hollow tone. 
 
 Vlad. Ah, what I feel I felt but once before. 
 'Tis something damnable! O I could wring 
 My heart dry so that every drop of blood 
 In falling to the earth, washed out this pain ! 
 Oft have I blown mine enemies hence upon 
 My battle-trumpet's blast and thus I'll thresh 
 My mind and blow this chaff away ! 
 Out, out, I say! I'll bear no graves within 
 My breast ! I'm not a burial ground ! Hill caves 
 Are better tombs than is my flesh ! Dead words, 
 Dead threats, dead glances, yea, dead cruelties. 
 Ye must have other burial than herein. 
 O, that a conquering king, whose sword 
 Hath been the spade for countless graves. 
 Should now himself be made the sepulchre 
 For this unending pain! Rogneda, 
 Thou she-devil 
 
 Boris. Stop ! 
 
 Vlad. Thou commandest the king? 
 
 Boms. No; I defend him from the only foe 
 Who now can conquer him. 
 
 ViiAD. Where is my enemy.'' 
 
 [61] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Boms. Where neither spear nor arrow reaches 
 him, — 
 Upon thy tongue. 
 
 Vlad. Thou hest; 'tis this pain 
 
 That she hath planted here and she must pluck 
 It out. 
 
 Boris. My King, thou must do that thyself. 
 Art thou who conquereth continents, incapable 
 Of that? 
 
 Vlad. Why taunt me thus? There's naught 
 that I 
 Can not do. 
 
 {Draws his sword and flourishes it.) 
 
 See my sword whose gleam, 
 Blood can't bedim. 
 
 Boris. Then clear thy soul of pain. 
 
 Wert thou a conqueror, then conquer all. 
 Wouldst thou be king, then rule the mutiny 
 Thou blamest on the dead. Thou coward king, 
 Thou 'rt conquered, abdicate ! 
 The mightiest kings have httle flaws whereby 
 They're chattled much as bondmen are! 
 How many flourish swords above the ground 
 And think it is the only world! 
 How many hauberks turn the spear points off, 
 But can't defend the breast against 
 The arrows of remorse! 
 How many monarchs ruling only half 
 Their realms, wear whole crowns on their heads ! 
 
 {Vladimir draws back his sioord making ready to charge 
 Boris.) 
 
 Strike ; here's my breast ; strike hard. If I can't help 
 
 [62] 
 
Act II Scene I 
 
 My king in conquering all things whatsoever, 
 
 Not merely pagans on the battlefield, 
 
 But his own sufferings, then let me die. 
 
 If thou art stronger without Boris' aid; 
 
 Canst conquer everj^ thing, and quell thy pain. 
 
 Then whet thy sword upon my bony breast 
 
 To make it sharper for thine enemies. 
 
 And when they're slaughtered, turn it on thine own. 
 
 To see if steel can cut thine anguish out! 
 
 O wouldst thou be a mortal king like others, 
 
 Then think thy sword enjoys immortal power. 
 
 Vlad. (Still threatening Boris.) Thou traitor, 
 Boris, die ! 
 
 (The ghost of Rogneda appears and steps between them.) 
 
 Thou here again ! 
 Thou human torch whose white ascending flame 
 Outshines my glowing sword and burning eyes; 
 Upcurls from graves of blackened earth and bears 
 Rogneda's form, why flasheth thou o'er me 
 As arctic spirits that hover o'er the north. 
 Threatening the white world with their wide 
 
 scimitars ? 
 I've conquered every land but thine — beyond 
 My sword point's reach, — a coward realm is it, 
 That only threatens, never punishes ! 
 
 RoG. A merciful world it is whose threats 
 accomplish 
 Its good designs without its punishments. 
 It threatens now, great King; refrain 
 From thy too frequent sword thrusts or my world 
 Which thou canst never conquer, does thee ill. 
 
 Vlad. Begone, thou unsubstantial prophetess! 
 Sink down again ! 
 
 [63] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 RoG. I'll never sink until 
 
 Thou art redeemed. 
 
 {Vladimir plunges his sword thru the ghost without any 
 ill effect.) 
 
 Vlad. Ah, why is this? 
 
 My sword hath never swung so swift before 
 And done so Httle ill. 
 
 RoG. Thy sword can do no harm 
 
 To me. O mighty King, now thou hast learned, 
 It's not omnipotent. Thou mightst as well 
 Strike at the crescent moon to lop off its horns 
 As at me. I'm thy sin ; thy sorrow too, 
 And thy remorse, which swords can never hew 
 Away, and on this light frame I shall bear 
 The huge grief of a mighty king until 
 He finds his sword of no avail. Prove me; 
 Strike thru my breast and see what thou canst do. 
 
 (Vladimir plunges his sword into Rogneda's ghost without 
 resulting in harm.) 
 
 Vlad. {Throwing down his sword.) 
 Thou traitorous steel, where is thy power gone.? 
 And what's Vladimir when his sword is dead. 
 And he sunk in a shallow.? Thou false weapon 
 Blunted with shadows ; sharpened on pagan bones ! 
 How like my strange heart which hath borne 
 Unfeelingly a thousand murders, yet is pricked 
 By what some soft tongue saith! What god have I 
 Offended that he pains the great king thus? 
 
 Boms. That God whom thou hast not yet found. 
 
 Vlad. And what 
 
 Defense have I since spirits dare the precincts 
 Of my sword and tread upon its point? 
 
 [64] 
 
Act II Scene I 
 
 RoG. Thou dost not need defense against them 
 now. 
 1 shall watch over thee. Come, follow me, 
 And leave thy sword upon this fatal field. 
 Thus to absorb the spirit of its enemy 
 And gain a better power. Come, follow on; 
 Thy kingdom lieth yet in store for thee. 
 
 {Bogneda's ghost departs thru the doorioay.) 
 
 Vlad. How strange thou art, thin temptress ! 
 
 Leave my sword.'' 
 Then I shall leave my life, my power, my all. 
 My sword's my tongue, my crown, my pillow too. 
 Why leave it here.^ My kingdom's yet to come.'' 
 What kingdom is 't ? The great white world is mine ; 
 And yet the earth is strange, strange as that ghastly 
 
 tongue. 
 For where 'tis darkest and most cold, white fires 
 Glow o'er the long horizon lines to yield 
 The frigid glooms more light and heat. How can 
 My sword gain other kingdoms, push aback 
 Russia's horizon line by lying here.? 
 Up, up, good weapon ; thou 'rt my line of sky 
 Yon which I can not see; thou art the hght 
 That gleams intenser than the snows 
 Or northern fires in this strange world; thou art 
 The grey wolf's fang ; the salt wave's stinging drop ! 
 What other kingdom can there be than thine.? 
 
 (Vladimir picks up his sword. As he does so loud moans 
 are heard, and he bends low to listen.) 
 
 Boris. The spirits of the dead complain. 
 Vlad. The earth 
 
 Groans as my sceptre hovereth over it. 
 5 [65] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 {Vladimir straightens up.) 
 
 Boms. O kill me now; I'll join those spirits of 
 pain, 
 And, since I can do naught in this, I'll sing 
 In th' other world, my dirge and plea to save 
 The great Vladimir's soul from sin and woe. 
 
 Vlad. Dangle no risks before my sword nor 
 tempt 
 Me while this pain treads out the bitter vintage 
 Of my perplexity. Ah, what is it 
 To be a king thus badgered in the prime of power 
 By what I can not slay.? And what's my sword 
 Whose thrusts are efficacious everywhere 
 But where these double woes encamp? I would 
 A bier of sword blades bore my body hence 
 Than I should be the living urn 
 Of this inveterate pain ! O I can easier 
 Tread down the earth beneath my feet than stem 
 This wizard tide of woe ! I know not why 
 It is, if 't be not of some envious god; 
 Nor whence, if 't be not from Rogneda's eyes ! 
 What hath the great king done that he should sup 
 On pain? The green wine's bitterness hath lodged 
 Within his throat and will not down. Hence, my 
 
 good sword 
 Shine, flourish, sever trunks from limbs. 
 Or penetrate the crusty hauberk of the earth, 
 Pierce all things else but this, Vladimir's pain. 
 For that, no mortal blade can ever touch ! 
 Hear, O ye gods and peoples of the world. 
 The great king, 'midst the conquests he has made 
 Is conquered by a stranger power; amidst 
 His sword's flare, shadow like he stands ; 
 
 [66] 
 
Act II Scene II 
 
 Amidst his conquests, bows he like a slave; 
 Crowned with the regal diadems is he, 
 Yet stoops a vassal, humbled that he might 
 Become a king again. 
 
 Boris. Thou speakest well. 
 
 Vlad. O I must follow her for I'm a hege 
 Unto a ghost. My mastery of land 
 And sea, seem little conquests now, since this 
 Strange world doth lie before my sword. On, on. 
 To this collateral conquest ! Boris, be 
 My colleague in this new exploit. 
 I love thee; thou art brave; with thee I'll make 
 My pliant sword the springing board wherefrom 
 I'll leap to kingdoms that it can not conquer. 
 Whether they be high mountains or abysses, 
 I must leap to them for I hear 
 The ceaseless syllables of some new god 
 Pace o'er my soul and I must follow them. 
 
 BoEis. I'll travel with thee anywhere. 
 
 Vlad. Come, then. 
 
 (Vladimir sheathes his sword and grasps Boris by the 
 hand. They go out together followed by the attendants.) 
 
 SCENE II 
 
 In the throne room of the same palace. The 
 large doors, one at the right, the other at the left, 
 stand open. Thru the doorway at the right can 
 be seen the balcony and the plains in the distance. 
 Vladimir's throne is set in the middle of the back- 
 ground. 
 
 (Aloysha and Kaysan enter at the left.) 
 [67] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Aloy. Hist! Akim tried to kill the king; his 
 shaft 
 Failed and he killed Rogneda in his stead. 
 
 Kay. Poor woman, how she suffered for her lord. 
 
 Aloy. Akim's a prisoner and 's cawing like 
 A raven that is lost. 
 
 Kay. Ah me, 
 
 Had I an arrow I could lay 
 Upon my strong bow's silken cord, I'd lay 
 It there for flight unto his breast, wherein 
 'Twould dig a furrow, as a chariot wheel 
 Makes mighty gratings in the soil. 
 
 Aloy. Thou wouldst need 
 
 Sea-falcon's eyes for that ; the wild boar's heart 
 As well, and that thy old hands might not shake. 
 Thou 'st need to hold thy bow with sturgeon's glue. 
 
 Kay. I would not falter when my bow was set. 
 
 Aloy. But set it not; 'tis better thou shouldst 
 live, 
 Not die as Akim will. Thou art too old 
 To murder anyone. 
 
 Kay. Then may the king 
 
 Perform our bidding! Would my heart were young. 
 Bounding like ermine ! Alert and able too ! 
 But now my songs are weapons and my tales 
 Are arrows that will conquer every foe. 
 
 Aloy. Sing to the king; the heart has ears. 
 
 Kay. Has he 
 
 A heart? 
 
 Aloy. He loved Rogneda once. 
 
 Kay. His heart 
 
 Is deaf, but on my girdle I shall hang three pipes, 
 Of bone, of copper and of aurochs horn. 
 
 [68] 
 
Act II Scene II 
 
 My song upon the bone pipe shall resound 
 Thru pine woods; that upon the copper horn 
 Sends voices 'mongst the mountain tops, but that 
 Upon the aurochs, sounds in highest heav'n. 
 O may my song that reaches there, pass first 
 Thru great Vladimir's heart, so that our gods 
 May never be abased by him, nor grieved 
 By his blaspheming tongue. Thus will old Kaysan 
 
 sing 
 Upon his pipes that never will grow hoarse. 
 He'll make his songs the silken snares t'enmesh 
 Vladimir's sword! 
 
 Aloy. Thy heart's a jacinth stone 
 
 That darts red rays as the fair sun; thy tongue 
 Moves with more power than waving maces do. 
 So sing thy best, for Akim's arrow failed, 
 And we must try another way. 
 
 {They go out at the right as Boris and Vladimir enter at 
 the left.) 
 
 Vlad. I'll shake this off me as the ploughman 
 shakes 
 The soil from off the share. 
 
 Boris. Stop here, my King. 
 
 Vlad. (Stopping.) Where did she go? She 
 beckoned me this way. 
 O what a poor wayfarer I've become; 
 A hanger-on of spirits which are as frail 
 As staff wood bridges, yet can thwart my sword. 
 O Perun, Thor or any god make me 
 A king again ! 
 
 Boms. My God alone does that. 
 
 Vlad. Then bring him here. 
 [69] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Boms. Thou must go unto Him, 
 
 Not make a ghost thy goddess. 
 
 Vlad. Hark, who's there? 
 
 {Goes out at the right; Boris watches him and Besulka 
 comes in at the left.) 
 
 Resul. O Boris, stay with me; thou'st served 
 the king. 
 Now on the field of love send arrows out, — 
 The glances of thine eyes. I will not wear 
 A helmet over mine to stop their flight. 
 I'll be thy prisoner and thou canst clasp 
 The hauberk of thine arms about my breast 
 To keep me safe from sorrow's thrust. 
 {Boris embraces her.) 
 
 O now 
 I know why I have suffered, 'tis for this ! 
 My life is thine, O to the uttermost! 
 I am a slender arrow to be shot 
 Whither thy words or eyes direct. 
 
 BoEis. Then trust 
 
 My word. I have not served the king in full. 
 I must not tarry in my quest and we 
 Can not abide together till 'tis done. 
 
 Resul. And must I sit alone amidst the green 
 of May? 
 
 Boris. Yes ; sit alone and sing, thou lovely lark 
 Of mine ! Then braid thy scattered thoughts together 
 Into sweet song, to solace lonesome hours 
 With them, until I come to thee, — farewell! 
 
 Resul. (Withdrawing from his embrace.) So 
 
 then farewell awhile. 
 
 (Besulka goes out at the left as Vladimir enters at the 
 right, follov)ed by Aloysha and Kaysarv.) 
 
Act II Scene II 
 
 Vlad. (Seating himself on the dais.) Boris, be 
 judge. 
 I'm charged with blasphemy of the Russian gods, 
 By these men whom 3^ou see. Aloysha, speak! 
 
 Aloy. Thou hast denied the heritage of our gods, 
 Which, from the Earth's beginning they have had. 
 
 Kay. Thou cursest at the pageants of their 
 heav'n. 
 And laughest at the marriage of the moon 
 Unto the sun in Earth's first spring. 
 
 Aloy. Thou art 
 
 A trafficker in holy things ; an infidel 
 Upon great Russia's throne. Thy heav'n's no higher 
 Than backs of war steeds, and thy brightest star's 
 Thy sword point, whilst the Earth 
 Is but a saddle that thou sittest in. 
 Our gods, — the playthings of thy sneers ; our lives 
 The stirrups by which thou mountest to thy throne. 
 
 Vlad. Thou liest, Aloysha; thou knowest thou 
 liest, too. 
 Thou art a keen accuser, but thine edge 
 Is whetted with thy hate and jealousy. 
 When will traducer's lashes fail to swing 
 Upon their own backs ere they smite another's? 
 
 Aloy. O break thy spears upon the pagan's 
 shields 
 Not on our gods, and empty thy full quivers 
 Upon the Khan's host, not on Rerun's back. 
 
 Vlad. Do not speak that name in my hearing. 
 
 Aloy. Shall I not speak my god's name to my 
 king? 
 
 Vlad. I'm god enough for thee. 
 
 Aloy. Blasphemer, hush ! 
 
 [71] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Vlad. {Stepping toward Aloysha and threaten- 
 ing him with his sword.) 
 I'll clip thy brazen tongue and fetter thee 
 As Akim is, — then throw thy god away. 
 
 Thou (Looking aside suddenly.) 
 
 Thou too, hearest this, Rogneda? 
 When I hunt thee, thou fleest; when I forget 
 Thee, then thou dost appear. 
 
 Aloy. Who's here, my King? 
 
 Thine eyes look on some forgery of thy brain. 
 
 Kay. My king, thou 'rt haunted with some evil 
 spir't. 
 Come, come, Aloysha; let us flee. 
 
 Aloy. Perun's 
 
 Dread thunder has come down at last. 
 I'll with thee, Kaysan ; hasten ! 
 
 {Aloysha and Kaysan go out at the left, whilst Vladimir 
 stands as if entranced by Rogneda' s ghost.) 
 
 Vlad. Why comest thou 
 
 To put more omens in my vaulty heart.? 
 Can I not raise my sword unless I lift 
 The tomb's top off thy grave? Why startest thou 
 Upon the flourish of the silver pillar 
 Of the Russian world, whose upright shaft 
 Shines o'er the sides of this great earth? Do I 
 Strike thee in hitting at the target of the air? 
 Or is my sword a strange spade that exhumes 
 Thy spirit from the void beyond my eyes? 
 
 RoG. When wilt thou let me rest? O sheathe thy 
 sword ! 
 Use not its gleams in threatening flourishes 
 Nor wave its waning fires to kindle wrath, 
 
 [72] 
 
Act II Scene II 
 
 Nor revel in its shining. Thou must find 
 Another light, for this one's dyinrr now. 
 {Vladimir looks at his sword.) 
 
 Vlad. I doubt the words thou speakest. 
 
 RoG. Whene'er 
 
 Thou takest from its sheath thy sword, thou dost 
 Awaken me from rest. I feel the tremors 
 Thy brandished weapon makes and I am called 
 To earth to still their murderous powers. Thou 
 
 wilt 
 Ne'er ease thy soul nor mine till thy sword sleeps. 
 Then will thy newer kingdom dawn and thine 
 Unquiet heritage will pass away. 
 
 Vlad. (Sheathing his sword.) And thou.? 
 
 Will thy plague pass; thy spirit rest.? 
 (Rogneda's ghost disappears.) 
 
 Thou 'rt gone so soon ? Why am I haunted thus ; 
 
 My solid flesh moored to a wizard form of air; 
 
 My armoured bulk tossed hither, thither so, 
 
 By incorporeal shades.? O what am 1? 
 
 A lighter thing than trolls; dust in the wind! 
 
 My flesh resisteth arrows, yet capitulates 
 
 To blunter things and halts before a shade. 
 
 Boris. Thou art a shadow too and all of life's 
 The same and mightiest kings are vassals to the 
 
 thing 
 That flecks their minds. 
 
 Vlad. Canst thou divine no more.? 
 
 Boris. Yes; thou art touching quicksands, move 
 away. 
 If thou wilt question too much what thou art, 
 Thou wilt not be what thou has been. 
 
 [73] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 (Enter the messenger from the right.) 
 
 Mess. My King, 
 
 There are new embassies that wait for thee. 
 
 Vi.AD. (Seating himself on the throne.) I'll 
 hear them now, so call them in. 
 
 (Messenger departs at the right.) 
 
 Boris. My King, hear'st thou those ceaseless 
 syllables 
 Again.? Forget not that which pained thee once; 
 Remember that the strange god awaits for thee. 
 
 Vlad. Where is he waiting? 
 
 Boris. In thy heart. 
 
 (Enter four commissions of two men each, from Bulgaria, 
 representing Mohammedanism; from Germany represent- 
 ing Roman Catholicism; the third representing the 
 Khazars, a tribe professing the Jewish religion and the 
 fourth, Greeks, representing the Greek Catholic Church. 
 Aloysha and Kaysan follow them in. All gather about 
 the throne of Vladimir.) 
 
 Vlad. What do ye wish of me.'' 
 
 BuLG. Spokesman. Great King, 
 
 Since thou hast conquered by thy sword; 
 Since thy successes with the warrior's lance 
 Have gained this wide domain, we feel our god 
 Hath tented with thee ; and hath helped thine arm to 
 
 wield 
 The weapon that Mohammed used, therefore. 
 We, knowing thy distaste for Russia's gods 
 Beg the acceptance of our own. 
 
 Vlad. Who is thy god? 
 
 BuLG. There is no god but Allah and Mohammed 
 Is his prophet, his warrior, yea, his swordsman too. 
 His heav'n is full of pleasures and is supplied 
 
 [74] 
 
Act II Scene II 
 
 With streams of milk and honey clarified, 
 
 Whose taste will never change. Therein shalt thou 
 
 Recline on couches lined with silk and gold, 
 
 And beauteous houris shall await thee too. 
 
 But wine, by which dissension's sown by Satan 
 
 Can not be tasted here or there. Which, then. 
 
 Of Allah's benefits dost thou deny.'' 
 
 Blest be great Allah's name, the Lord of all! 
 
 Vlad. I love thy conquering prophet but I can't 
 Accept religions that prohibit wine. 
 
 Ger. Spksm. Then hark. Great King, to my 
 words for they bear 
 A message from the vicar of the Christ 
 Who died for us and left His church on earth. 
 Our God rules all ; He is the only God, 
 And our church His sole church within the world ; 
 Our Pope the arbiter on things of truth. 
 Great King, accept our Holy Church! 
 
 Vlad. Thy Pope's an earthly deity; I hke him 
 not. 
 A god on earth 's a monstrous thing. 
 
 Khazar Spksm. Then hear of great Jehovah, 
 God of all; 
 Hear of his prophet Moses unto whom 
 The Lord God spake. Jehovah is the only God; 
 With Him thou canst defeat thine enemies. 
 
 Vlad. Ah, thy religion's that of wanderers. 
 On whom some ban of Heaven rests, and I 
 Do not desire to share thy punishment. 
 No, none of you will do. 
 
 Grk. Spksm. Most Mighty King, 
 
 Hear us for we alone are true and know 
 The truth concerning how the world began, 
 
 [75] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 And when 'twill end. Whoso accepts our faith 
 Shall live forever in the other world; 
 Whoso does not, shall bum in hell. 
 
 Vlad. Thou hast 
 
 A habit of speech that others have. Ye all 
 Slight what beliefs ye do not like. We have 
 Such talk in Russia too; our seers declare 
 Their faith alone is true. Now some of you 
 Are liars, yet such lies are 's old 's the world, 
 And lying like that will live 'till Earth is gone. 
 
 Grk. No, no Great King. 
 
 BuLG. There is no god but Allah! 
 
 Vlad. Hush! I'll send my boyars unto your 
 shrines 
 And see your temples and their priests, for since 
 No one detracts his own, but praises it. 
 They'll judge themselves how ye do serve your gods, 
 And which we like the best, we shall adopt. 
 
 Aloy. My King, thou dost forget our own. 
 
 Kay. And mine. 
 
 Vlad. 'Tis good thus to forget our own awhile 
 To search for what another thinks is true. 
 
 Kay. There is no god but Perun. 
 
 Aloy. Thou great King, 
 
 Send off these men out of respect for us. 
 
 Kay. Do not forsake our gods ! 
 
 Vlad. I am the king. 
 
 If I forsake thine idols 
 
 Kay. Speak it not! 
 
 Plan no such thing, but hear my heart's deep song. 
 
 (Kaysan kneels before Vladimir and sings in a monotone.) 
 Day follows day as falls the rain and like 
 The flowing rivers pass the years and still 
 
 [76] 
 
Act II Scene II 
 
 Great Perun rules and blesses. Hear ye all 
 The burden of poor Kaysan's heart ! His psalm 
 Is for our fathers' gods and for our fathers' land. 
 His pleas are soft as flowing waters are ! 
 Great King, have beds of yew wood; cushions soft 
 Of whitest swan's down; like a falcon soar, 
 Or with grey eagle's plumes bedeck thy form ; 
 Ride steeds whose shaggy manes sweep o'er the earth 
 And hang on one side; steeds whose flowing tails 
 Wipe out their hoof prints ; have a silken lash 
 And silver spurs that tear thy stallion's side, 
 So that their prancings raise up clouds of dust 
 Upon the open plains and their great hoofs 
 Make furrows in the fields ! O have thy wines 
 In silver flasks all hooped with yellow gold, 
 Hung by their brazen chains in caverns deep, 
 To sway with winds and murmur like the swans 
 At play on bosoms of the quiet bays; 
 Have suits of chain mail and have sables too ; 
 Have staves of precious fish teeth, velvet pouches. 
 And taff*etas of orange tawny hue; 
 Have mantles furred with marten; golden thrones 
 In ash wood palaces ; have kingdoms too ; 
 Have all of these; have us and have our land 
 But leave our gods alone, — take all but them. 
 O everything. Great King, but our old gods ! 
 {Kaysan arises.) 
 
 Vlad. What are those things to me who have no 
 peace ? 
 Thy scanty argument aff^ects me not. 
 
 Kay. Great King, hear me again ! 
 
 Vlad. No, no; no more! 
 
 The whole world speaks to me and if there be 
 
 [77] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 A god who hath not sent his messenger, 
 
 Let him be sent! There is a rift within 
 
 Vladimir's soul, world-wide enough for all 
 
 The gods of heav'n. There is an image too, 
 
 Deep down in its abyss, o'er which 
 
 All mortal things may crowd, but never hide. 
 
 There is a goddess there, — one not from heav'n, — 
 
 One exiled from my palace to my heart. 
 
 And now her tears wear down its stony doors 
 
 For gods to enter in. O what a conqueror 
 
 Am I.'' Pierced by a spirit yet impregnable 
 
 To arrows and to spears ! O what a world ! 
 
 But I will search amongst all gods to find 
 
 Him who can reconcile these diverse things. 
 
 BuLG. There is no god but Allah ! 
 
 Vlad. Hush! I'll send 
 
 My princes to discover if 't be true. 
 Now all depart. I shall make search alone 
 Into your separate beliefs. 
 
 Khazar. Great King, 
 
 Adopt our God and spare our land! 
 
 Grk. No ; ours, Great King. 
 
 Vlad. Away, away! 
 
 (The commissioners depart at the left.) 
 
 Boris, come hither, 
 I would talk with thee. What thinkest thou 
 Of this.? 
 
 Boris. Send me, my King. I'll make the search 
 And help to reconcile the world to thee. 
 
 Vlad. Come then with me. 
 
 {Vladimir and Boris go out at the left, followed by the 
 messenger.) 
 
 [78] 
 
Act II Scene II 
 
 Aloy. Thou seest it all, as I. 
 
 Kay. I would that ermines with the sharpest 
 teeth 
 Crept in his armoury and snapped his stout 
 Bows there; broke every silken cord and blunted 
 The fiery arrows in his quivers too. 
 Would that the wolves could gallop to his stalls, 
 Tear open each steed's throat, then bound away ! 
 
 Aloy. Yes, yes, but what can be done, not what 
 would. 
 Must be considered. Meek entreaties fail. 
 And can not clip a feather of his wing. 
 He soars above all gods but spurneth ours 
 The most, and measureth Perun by his mace; 
 His own power by his sword, as if the battlefield 
 Were both a throne and stage for highest gods. 
 May Perun seal his quiver, and open his eyes. 
 Or send his thunders down to threaten him! 
 (Loud noises and cries heard, at the left.) 
 
 Kay. Hark, what is that? 
 
 {Noises continue.) 
 
 Aloy. Perun pleads for us now. 
 
 (The rumbles and noises grow louder.) 
 
 Kay. Hark, now 'tis louder; Perun's approach- 
 ing us, 
 With 's feet upon steel stirrups that clang as loud 
 As hoof falls in a stony court. 
 (Noises continue.) 
 Aloy. O Perun, 
 
 Strike thunders with thy mace again! 
 Thy glorious speech that proves thy plight to us, 
 
 [79] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Fills up the hollow dome of heav'n and strikes 
 Earth's floors and echoes to the sky above, 
 Outroaring all Vladimir's bugle blasts. 
 Knock on his hard heart with thy thunders now! 
 He will not mock thy voice, for it is thrice 
 An aurochs roar, — not to be scorned by him. 
 (Noises groio louder.) 
 
 Thou iron sinewed tongue; thou throat of gold 
 Thou wilt be molten with thine anger's fire. 
 But melt thy muscles into prophecies. 
 Revenges, punishments ! O with thy battering voice 
 Beat thru the hauberk o'er Vladimir's heart, 
 And thru his steely helmet to his mind. 
 That both may understand that thou art God! 
 Kay. Then will he stand where Kief's towers 
 verge. 
 Beneath a dome, sheathed with green copper plates, 
 Well carpeted with tawny yellow sand, 
 And make repentant bows at Perun's feet. 
 (Noises burst out again.) 
 
 Aloy. Who's coming ? hark, the populace ! 
 
 His thunders dwell upon men's tongues ! Ah now 
 
 Vladimir, prove thyself a king or suffer death. 
 
 (Enter at the left two old men, followed by a large number 
 of men and women, some of whom are carrying the idol 
 Perun. Their shouts subside as they fill the room.) 
 
 1st Old man. Where are those infidels who spurn 
 
 our gods? 
 2nd Old man. Where is the king who listened to 
 
 them ? 
 People. He must bow to Perun! He must bow 
 
 down! 
 
 [80] 
 
Act II Scene II 
 
 Aloy. Call for him; make him do your will. 
 
 When he 
 
 Looks once more into Perun's steady eye, 
 
 He'll feel the beckoning of his glance. 
 
 (Shouts of the 'people: Oreat King Vladimir, come hither; 
 how to our god!) 
 
 Aloy. Good folks, ye know Vladimir disbelieves 
 Our god and bans his holy form and spurns 
 The gods our fathers loved. O think of that! 
 Our king an infidel! Shall great Perun, 
 Whose mace is as the rainbow in the skies, 
 Whose lightnings are the golden keys 
 Unlocking Earth's deep waters, letting fountains flow ; 
 Whose flaming darts unbind the wintry fetters, 
 And pierce the clouds to free the blessed rains, 
 From those black castles o'er our heads, shall he 
 Be thus renounced by such a king and changed 
 For pagan gods of other lands? O wouldst 
 Ye have the sun cease shining and the rain 
 Drops wither in the clouds; the stars borne off 
 On biers to nothingness.? Or wouldst ye have 
 The cuckoos pining ever, barren fields. 
 And river beds without the waters there? 
 
 {Cries: No, no; Perun shall rule!) 
 Then trust whom ye have trusted oft before; 
 Command our king's acceptance of our gods, 
 And do my bidding. When the king comes, bow 
 As I bow, — lo, he cometh now. 
 
 {Enter at the left Vladimir and Boris and several of his 
 armed guards.) 
 
 Vlad. What means 
 
 This shouting? Why this gathering here? This 
 idol too. 
 6 [81] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Aloy. hear ye all what King Vladimir saith? 
 My people, bow with me. 
 
 (Aloysha and all the people how to Perun.) 
 
 Aloy. Great King, bow down ! 
 
 Vlad. Thou shouldst not thus command the king. 
 (Shouts of the people: Bow doion, how down.) 
 
 Good people, hear me first. I am thy king, 
 
 Sent by thy god. What Perun sends to thee. 
 
 Whether 'tis rain, or thunder, famines, plagues, 
 
 Or kings as I am, that ye must accept. 
 
 Ye are not infidels, so then believe 
 
 Perun hath sent me; one so sent doth all 
 
 Things well; drives back your enemies; preserves 
 
 Your fields from ravishment, and guards your lives. 
 
 W^hat can the king do better? Bow? What will 
 
 A bow do more than I have done? Can it 
 
 Ward off Khan's arrows ; keep thy maidens safe ; 
 
 Defend thy land and grains? I was not sent 
 
 To make a bow, but to be king, and will 
 
 Not do what I'm not sent for. Hear ye all, 
 
 The great Vladimir's heart is heavy too, 
 
 Yea, heavier than his head that bears the crown. 
 
 And than his breast that bears the hauberk's steel. 
 
 For that which burdens him, is grief. He can not 
 
 bow 
 
 As low as 't weighs him down. Therefore, 
 
 Good people, go and trust the king ye have. 
 
 {Cries of the people: Bow down, how down! Thunders, 
 winds and falling rains are heard. The people shudder 
 and in other ways show their fear.) 
 
 Aloy. Hark, Perun thunders and the voices of 
 the gods 
 
Act II Scene II 
 
 Echo our own. Bow down, Great King and save 
 Our lives ! 
 
 {More thunder; the people bow again whilst Vladimir stands 
 among them, erect and mute,) 
 
 O hear the tongues of heaven cry! 
 
 {Aloysha hows again.) 
 
 Shout louder, O jq thunders ; penetrate 
 The king's ears that he bow to Perun here! 
 {Thunders,) 
 
 The cavernous mouths of black clouds shout as we. 
 People. O King, bow down, bow down and save 
 us all. 
 
 {Thunders roar, making the palace shake.) 
 
 Aloy. Feel how the whole earth quivers at thy 
 
 sin! 
 Kay. (^Bowing with the people.) Bow down, 
 
 Great King! 
 
 {A number of the men leap forward toward Vladimir, 
 threatening him ivith clubs and crying, "Bow down, bow 
 down." Vladimir draws his sword and threatens the 
 oncomers with it. As he does so, Rogneda's ghost appears 
 before him and is beheld by all.) 
 
 Vlad. Thou calm intruder who compels 
 
 My wild soul to resume its quietness. 
 Let me be ruler here ! Depart ! Begone I 
 
 {The people, fear stricken by the appearance of the ghost, 
 draw back to the left door, and tumultuously depart, 
 taking Perun with them.) 
 
 A1.0Y. This spirit subdues the king, so let us go. 
 {Aloysha and Kaysan go out at the left.) 
 
 Vlad. {To Rogneda's ghost.) Thou art a 
 flaming prayer contrariwise 
 [83] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Directed, from the heavens to the earth. 
 Two worlds send orisons to me and now my crown 
 Is claimed by realms that are beyond my sword. 
 RoG. When wilt thou let me rest in peace? O 
 sheathe 
 Thy sword! The sound of whirring airs it makes, 
 Is cruel thunder o'er my lone abode. 
 The flashes of its edge are lightnings keen, 
 Illumining my tomb with garish flames. 
 Now let me rest ! Thy sword threats are the thrusts, 
 That, more than bitter gall, distort 
 My heavenly face with pain. O when wilt thou 
 Discover that thy sword is not a wand 
 Before whose flourish every world capitulates? 
 Hence anger heav'n no more; put by thy sword. 
 
 (Vladimir sheathes his sword and Bogneda's ghost 
 disappears.) 
 
 Vlai). O what a sword, — blunt sharpness, point- 
 less point. 
 Calm flourish and dull lightning! May the sheath 
 Forever be its paramour. 
 If it is faithless to its primal love, — 
 The fleshy scabbards of those opposing me! 
 Who feared it not, feared her strange ghost. Here- 
 after, 
 When I draw it forth, I'll unsheathe a spir't 
 From out the scabbard of the other world. 
 That it may drive back those who thwart my blade. 
 Boris. What then, my King? Wilt thou then be 
 
 at peace? 
 ViiAD. O do not speak that word ! It preys upon 
 The peace I have. 
 
 [84] 
 
Act II Scene II 
 
 Boris. Thou dost too oft forget 
 
 Thy conquest of the other world, my King. 
 Thy sword hilt tempteth thee; 'tis best to sheathe 
 Thy pain and let thy blade alone. 
 
 ViiAD. My sword's 
 
 A silver drawbridge over every gulf 
 But this broad gulf of pain, and over it 
 No sword can reach. 'Tis true, I do forget, 
 But I am bhnded by the myriad eyes 
 My blade casts on me. May their eyeHds close, 
 That mine may open on another light! 
 My soul, be less capricious and my breast 
 That recklessly hath stemmed a surge of arrows, 
 Why vacillate before this pain which leads 
 Me to the world I have not conquered yet.'* 
 O Boris, I stumble o'er my precious sword 
 And totter with thinking overmuch. Ah me, 
 Irresolution becometh not a king. 
 
 (Vladimir reclines on his throne.) 
 
 Boris. Rogneda is thy grief and thy remorse. 
 Thou must do penance for her; what she saith 
 About thy sword, is word from Heav'n. Great King, 
 Obey it now! 
 
 (Aloysha and Kaysan enter at the left.) 
 
 Aloy. My King, the people wish 
 
 To see thee; they desire to know if thou 
 Art safe. Come, show thyself. 
 
 Vlad. I will not show 
 
 Myself till ready ; bid them trust my words. 
 
 Kay. O mighty King, they bade me sing again, 
 That thou preserv'st our gods. So may my words 
 Be as fair jewels plaited in the mane 
 
 [85] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Of thy good steed ! And may my song be soft 
 As saddle cloths thou sittest on; as strong 
 As silken girths that bind their folds around, 
 And 's fair as arrow woods within thy halls. 
 
 Vlad. (Rising.) No more, no more ! Thy song 
 resounds within 
 My fissured heart like hollow noises. Go ! 
 The pleader's process fails with me, so do 
 The threatenings of this world. Th' impalpable 
 Sword thrusts of spir'ts alone, can move the heart 
 Of him who's lorded land and sea. Begone ! 
 
 Kay. (Falling on his knees.) Almighty King, 
 remember Kaysan's plea. 
 
 Aloy. And that Perun is angered with thee too. 
 
 (Vladimir grasps his sword hilt as if to draw, btit hesitates, 
 then removes his hand.) 
 
 Vlad. (To one of the guards.) Drive them 
 
 forth ! 
 
 (As the guard proceeds to do so, Bogneda's ghost appears 
 and Vladimir is startled. The guard stops for fear, and 
 Aloysha and Kaysan move toward the door at the left.) 
 
 Kay. He's haunted with a demon. 
 
 Aloy. Come, come away ! 
 
 (As Aloysha and Kaysan go out hurriedly, Bogneda's 
 
 ghost disappears.) 
 
 Vlad. Alas, the great king can not use his 
 sword. 
 For fear disturbing souls. My blade's within 
 A pillory, a tomb, where it must lie 
 Till penance shall be paid. I'm fettered too; 
 My guards as well. My sun hath set 
 Within its sheath, whilst th 'arctic lights still gleam. 
 What is a king when one by one his powers 
 
 [86] 
 
Act II Scene II 
 
 Are lost; his sword's edge eaten off and his gold 
 
 crown 
 Slipped round his neck to strangle him? 
 
 Boms. Some god who covets thee, diminishes 
 Thy power, to bring thee to his throne. 
 
 Vlad. Is 't so? 
 
 Then two worlds bear upon my soul, but I 
 Will shake them off, so King Vladimir, rise! 
 
 {He arises and strides about the floor.) 
 
 Stand upright now! O with my flashing thoughts 
 
 That flame before my eyes, I'll see all things 
 
 Anew! I'll risk redemption all alone, 
 
 And dare the vengeance of all the gods together; 
 
 Aff*ront damnation here and everywhere! 
 
 Am I a dervis moored to mumble prayers 
 
 Before an idol for my shrift? Am I a king 
 
 Uncrowned by shadows? O I'll thrust the world 
 
 Thru with my sword blade, carry 't on its point 
 
 And show the gods my power hath not waned. 
 
 I will defy my conscience, be a king 
 
 Again and with my world-wide will, — compeer 
 
 Of thrice Thor's hammer power, plus Perun's iron 
 
 mace, — 
 I'll challenge heaven's challenge too ! 
 Then out, my sword and better than the dawn, 
 (Places his hand upon his sword.) 
 
 Flush our flat plains with reborn flourishes ! 
 Thy silver lines among the shades, shall spell 
 My name upon the earth for it is mine. 
 
 {Draws his sword and flourishes it menacingly.) 
 
 I am a king again. 
 
 [87] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 {Bogneda's ghost appears.) 
 
 RoG. Art thou a king 
 
 Who dar'st the vengeance of the mighty gods? 
 They are revenged ; thou boasteth idle things. 
 Thou wouldst affront damnation? thou art damned 
 Already; thou wouldst see all things anew? 
 Thou wouldst be god then, watching o'er the earth 
 Not with the daily, but eternal light. 
 O abdicate thy will and then be such! 
 Defy thy conscience? thou defiest naught; 
 Or challenge heav'n's challenge? Can a drop 
 Of rain beat down the earth? Wouldst thou be king 
 O'er all the world? then be a slave 
 Unto the whole of heav'n. 
 
 Vlad. Thou Hest, fiend. 
 
 RoG. Put by thy sword and grant me peace. 
 The gods grow tired of my return to earth. 
 But come I must when thou dost need me most. 
 
 Vlad. I need thee not ; begone. 
 
 RoG. Put by thy sword. 
 
 (Vladimir sheathes his sword.) 
 
 Heav'n gives me power over it and so 
 Its sheath shall hold it till I make it free 
 (Bogneda's ghost vanishes.) 
 
 Vlad. 'Twill flourish when I wish to flourish it. 
 
 (He attempts to draw it forth, but fails. As he tugs at 
 the hilt he becomes greatly astonished that he can not 
 draw out the sword, and in a moment sinks back in his 
 chair.) 
 
 Thou too, O heartless weapon, spurneth me, 
 Conniving with the demons that begirt 
 Thy citadel and thus allying thyself 
 
 [88] 
 
Act II Scene III 
 
 With th' other world! Then sink, Vladimir, sink 
 Into the sheath of death and be drawn forth 
 No more ! Let spirits bind thee too, and then 
 This world's white cheeks will soon suffuse 
 With crimson blood, afraid of me no more. 
 For there's a power with which I can not cope 
 Whose shade eclipses my sword's brightest gleams. 
 
 Boms. My King, ally thyself with that power 
 then. 
 And thou canst be more great than thou hast been. 
 O seek the God to whom thou pledg'st thy steps, 
 Him, whose undying voice sounds in thy soul. 
 O falter not; forget not thine intent. 
 
 Vlad. Then come, my Boris, come; we'll search 
 again. 
 
 (Vladimir and Boris go out at the left.) 
 
 SCENE III 
 
 Place, same as in the previous scene. 
 
 Vladimir, Boris, Aloysha and Kaysan are stand- 
 ing just under the lintel of the door at the left. 
 
 ViiAD. Yes, Boris, lead me in; my eyes are so 
 Bedimmed, I know not why. I can not see 
 My way. 
 
 (The four enter and Vladimir, led to the throne, sits doion.) 
 
 Aloy. Thy sight fades. Great King, as the 
 punishment 
 That Perun sends upon thee. O, bid me 
 To intercede and palliate the pain. 
 
 [89] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Vlad. Hush, hush ! It is not so ; and how could I 
 Extenuate my sin before a stock? 
 
 Boris, dear, I can not curse for fear 
 Offending Him who sent this suffering. 
 
 1 can not pray, for what god hears 
 Apostate's to them all? O I have been 
 A godless god myself; here's my reward. 
 Albeit I am a king: eyes dimmed, my sword 
 Imprisoned and this pain within my heart. 
 Wait, — let me feel my sword again, perhaps 
 The sheath's unsealed. 
 
 {He feels it.) Nay, nay; not so. 
 
 Kay. O I would cast myself into the sea; 
 Lie at the bottom like alatyr stone, 
 Beyond the reach of stormy winds, if thou 
 Wouldst bow to Perun; be forgiven thus, 
 Great King. 
 
 Vlad. Do not prescribe for me that way. 
 
 (Enter at the left the three commissioners whom Vladimir 
 sent to investigate foreign religions.) 
 
 Boms. Ah they come, they come! 
 Vlad. My commissioners? 
 
 Boris. Yes, my King. 
 
 Vlad. Then let them come before my throne. 
 
 (The com/missioners approach toward him.) 
 
 Now tell me what ye recommend. 
 
 1st Com. My King, 
 
 We beg thee to adopt the Christian faith 
 As practised by the Greek Church, — it is best. 
 We went into Bulgaria and saw 
 The worshippers in their temples where they make 
 Obeisances and then sit down and look about 
 
 [90] 
 
Act II Scene III 
 
 Like madmen, for there is no joy 'mongst them, 
 But sadness and a great stench. Then we went 
 To Germany where we saw many rites; 
 No beauty was there in them. Then to Greece 
 We journeyed; saw the ceremonies there, 
 And did not know if we were on the earth 
 Or in the heav'ns. God Hves among the people 
 In that land for their service is so great. 
 
 2nd Com. For us the priests donned holy gar- 
 ments, so 
 The glory of their god might well be seen. 
 They Hghted golden censers ; sang ; arrayed 
 Themselves in most luxurious copes and stoles, 
 And then performed their ceremonies, fine and grand. 
 
 3rd Com. They had no black cowls as the western 
 monks. 
 
 Vlad. My grandmother Olga was baptised 
 Into their church, — such shall be done to me. 
 
 Boris. And God Almighty shall restore thy sight. 
 
 Vlad. My heart feels more unburdened, Boris. 
 
 1st Com. There is a priest whom we have brought 
 with us 
 To tell thee of his church, its faith and law, 
 And if thou wished it, baptise thee too. 
 
 Vlad. Bring him hither. 
 
 {A commissioner steps to the door at the left, and an in- 
 stant later returns with the priest.) 
 
 Aloy. What! the Christian priest.? 
 
 No, no; he must not come. Great King, hear me! 
 Speak not with him; I can not witness it. 
 Grant me this prayer! I would wear down my 
 
 tongue 
 With pleas ; corrode my lips with speech, if such 
 
 [91] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Would save our gods. Wouldst thou expect sweet 
 
 flowers 
 To bloom when thou hast torn their roots away? 
 O wouldst thou seek heav'n's blessing then, whilst thou 
 Dost so repudiate our gods? I bear 
 The dark grief of the great white world 
 Whose pale plains slowly grow to green, altho 
 The spring's far spent. 
 
 Vlad. Bring forth the priest. I bear 
 
 The curses of the other world and he 
 Who shows me freedom hath an audience here. 
 
 {The 'priest stands in front of Vladimir.) 
 
 Canst thou instruct me in thy faith ; receive 
 Me in the church of God? 
 
 Pr. Great King, I can 
 
 Instruct thee here, but thy baptism must be 
 In Kherson, the city of the Greeks, which thou 
 Must take by arms. 
 
 ViiAD. It shall be done; it shall! 
 
 My heart feels lighter now as doth my head 
 When from its crown the helmet's lifted off. 
 Mine eyes regain their sight ! A vision comes ! 
 It is the true God, He whom I have found 
 Not by beholding heav'n from stormy crests 
 Of Baltic waves, nor from a mountain height. 
 Nor from th' aspiring peak of my bright sword, 
 Nor by the scrutiny of plains between 
 My helmet's visor ; no, by none of these, 
 But by the pain within my heart, by grief; 
 By visitations of a martyred soul; 
 By thee, good Boris, who hast urged me on 
 To other conquests than my sword could make. 
 
 [92] 
 
Act II Scene III 
 
 And now there is but one more battle for it, 
 And then to rest. 
 
 Boris. Great King, thou 'rt greater now. 
 
 Aloy. If thou art greater and our gods are less, 
 They will no longer bless the land they loved. 
 
 Kay. King, attach thy steed with silken halters 
 Affixed to spear points driven in the earth; 
 Go on no further, — Kaysan's heart will break; 
 O shiver the sacred ring-barked oak, and let thy bow- 
 horns creak 
 With anger in thine aim; beat us as slaves 
 With knouts made of three stranded cords, but leave 
 Our gods alone, for they support our land. 
 With them we live ; without them we would die. 
 
 Vlad. (Arising.) I swear here by my mace of 
 steel, I will 
 Baptise you all, when I am so immersed. 
 Yea, tho ye hiss like dragons and like aurochs roar; 
 Tho ye pile jewels up a spear length deep 
 And give them to me, I'll perform the rite. 
 Then where ye are thus washed, I'll wash my sword, 
 And Dnieper's stream may take its stains to sea. 
 (Kaysan and Aloysha bow before him,) 
 
 Kay. Great King, why wouldst thou thus destroy 
 
 our gods.? 
 Aloy. O spare them for us. King! 
 Vlad. Up, up! Begone! 
 
 Give me no more such pleas ; depart ! 
 
 (Kaysan and Aloysha arise and depart at the left.) 
 
 One thing 
 Must now be done before I can depart. 
 My sword must be released; Rogneda, hear! 
 
 [93] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 The embers of my flinty heart, aglow 
 With righteous fire, move me to take 
 Immortal vengeance on my sinful blade. 
 Undo thy clasp, strange spir't ! But once more 
 Shall my sword wave, a banner of mute steel 
 Afloat in battle trumpet's gusty blasts; 
 Once more stretch like the silver comet's flash ; 
 Once more make envious the northern lights ; 
 Once more flush like the false dawn o'er the land. 
 And then 'twill fill its sheath, — its tomb at whose 
 Closed door its hilt shall lie, a monument 
 On which my clutching fingers make impress 
 Now for its epitaph. 
 
 (Draws his sword.) Hail, thou good steel, 
 'Tis heav'n that thus unseals thy sheath 
 And gives me sight again. O nevermore 
 Shalt thou make blasphemous flourishes; 
 Thy strokes shall never tempt the gods again, 
 Or emulate the lights of day and night! 
 And now I thank Rogneda and my god 
 For thy release, good sword! Now I shall go 
 Hence and receive instruction in thy faith. 
 Good priest. Come Boris, thou 'rt my teacher too ; 
 Soon I shall march to Kherson. 
 
 (Flourishes his sword.) Flash, my sword. 
 And hurl thy steady beacons o'er the south; 
 Star-treader, thou shalt tread the earth once more. 
 And help to bring the peace of heaven here ! 
 Thus let the Russian gods and idols mark 
 This day, this march, and mind of mine, for soon 
 They shall be barred forever from this land. 
 
 (Vladimir leads and the others follow him out at the left.) 
 
 [94] 
 
Act III 
 
 ACT III 
 
 On the broad shore of the River Dnieper, near 
 Kief. At the right, just edging on the scene, is a 
 wheat field. In the background flows the river and 
 beyond it can be seen low-lined knolls and hillocks. 
 Enter at the left Elena, Resulka, Yaroslafna, Ilya 
 and a few boys and girls. As they come in, several 
 birds fly away from the corn. 
 
 Yards. O * Lado, Lado, on the mound 
 The nightingale weaves its nest ; 
 The oriole's is all unwound. 
 It loves the wheat fields best. 
 
 Dear oriole, go weave thine own, 
 Eor thy dear young so sweet. 
 
 O leave the fields where corn is sown. 
 Nor peck the summer wheat ! 
 
 {The girls run to the field and pick some ears of wheat 
 and weave them into wreaths.) 
 
 Elena. We'll plait the bearded stalks and make 
 them wreaths. 
 
 Ilya. Other birds peck at the grain. 
 
 Yards. The ear has come 
 
 To white wheat and to corn. 
 
 Resul. It is the gift 
 
 Of all the gods. 
 
 Elena. (Crowning Ilya with her wreath.) 
 
 1 crown thee with a crown 
 Of gold. 
 
 * Lado was the god of mirth and general happiness. 
 [95] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Yaros. (Also crowning him.) And with this 
 sheathe of corn I crown 
 Thee too. 
 
 Ilya. The ear is on the com and wheat I 
 Out of each ear a measure; 
 Out of each grain a loaf to eat; 
 And from our gods this treasure. 
 
 (He bends low toward the east, west and south.) 
 
 And from our gods this treasure. 
 
 (Aloysha enters at the left.) 
 
 Aloy. O let me bless the ground first ere ye 
 
 reap. 
 
 (He draws a sickle.) 
 
 Then with my scythe I'll cut the stalks and ye 
 May wreath them for a crown for Perun's head. 
 Good Earth, I bless thee, for from thy black soil 
 And heav'n's white rain drops, cometh golden grain. 
 Perun, thou great transmuter, hail to thee; 
 Hail now, but nevermore. 
 
 Yaros. What? 
 
 Resul. Why nevermore.? 
 
 Aloy. The king's destroying our idols, scourg- 
 ing them. 
 'Tis he transmutes all things, e'en changes plains 
 To pris'ns ; makes seas the solid ground ; wild waves, 
 His watery hauberks no one's prow can pierce. 
 And these flat lands, the ramparts which the Khan 
 Can never scale, howe'er he shall besiege; 
 He changes mountain barriers to roads; 
 Transmutes his sword to a resistless mace 
 That rivals Perun's; changes night to day 
 
 [96] 
 
Act III 
 
 And maketh arctic lights grow dim. He calls 
 The dead to life; the living to their doom; 
 Transmutes the earth to hell wherein his God's 
 Enthroned, whilst he makes ours a whipping post. 
 O had this old earth ever such a king 
 Who rules with rashness; judges with his sword; 
 Extols the demons of the underworld, 
 Spits at the gods of heav'n and leagues with hell.? 
 (Thunders heard.) 
 
 O he is casting down our idols now! 
 
 Hark how they fall ; the thunders roar and Earth 
 
 Is reeling from her resting spot and Heav'n 
 
 And hell shift places following it, upon 
 
 The beck and nod of such a mortal king! 
 
 Resul. Is Boris with him in that desecrating 
 work ? 
 
 Aloy. He is, Resulka. All is over now; 
 Eternal night come on me; let me die! 
 (Aloysha weeps.) 
 
 Resul. Dear Boris, thou dost slay me! Thou 
 
 art lost! 
 Yaros. We're doomed; our souls are lost. 
 Elena. O cut the grain, 
 
 Aloysha, make thy crown for Perun's head. 
 
 Aloy. Yes, let me harvest while I may. I'll cut 
 A sheaf for his immortal head! 
 
 (He cuts the grain.) 
 
 What Cometh from the gods returneth there. 
 Wind it, Resulka; twist it to a cord 
 Vladimir's sword can't sever. May it bind 
 Us to our gods and them to us. 
 7 [97] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 (He gives a handful of grain to Besulka who twists it and 
 makes a wreath of it.) 
 
 Now 'tis a ring 
 Of bearded grain that plights our love to him 
 Who lies beneath Vladimir's lash. I'll go 
 And place it on great Perun's head. 
 
 Yards. We'll go 
 
 With thee; come all. 
 
 {Aloysha goes out at the left followed by all except 
 Resulka.) 
 
 Resul. I can not go. 
 
 (Boris enters at the left.) Boris, 
 
 How couldst thou do it? O how couldst thou strike 
 Upon my heart and with that infidel, 
 Scourge Russia's gods-f^ O when I saw thee stand 
 Bright like a burning taper in the temple. 
 Then all the world was love, then all was love! 
 When thou didst speak, thy words flowed as a 
 
 stream ; 
 Thy ruddiness was taken from the sun ; 
 Thy fairness from the white snows and thy cheeks 
 Were crimson like the poppy; thy clear eyes 
 Were as the hawk's own and thy brows were black 
 As sable's darkest hue, but now tliou'rt changed. 
 Thy soul is forfeited to evil spir'ts. 
 So let us separate on earth that we 
 Shall grow accustomed to estrangement here 
 To soothe its bitterness in after life. 
 
 Boms. My God's too great and good and kind 
 to let 
 Us part here or hereafter. Give one name 
 To what thou callest gods. Say God whose Son 
 Is Christ, the king of all on earth, who died for us 
 
 [98] 
 
Act III 
 
 And rose again to Heav'n. Thine images 
 Are wood, — they're Hfeless, powerless too. O give 
 Them up, — the living God is thine, tho thou 
 Knoweth it not. 
 
 Resul. O Boris, how can 1? 
 
 Shall I be traitorous to Russia's gods.? 
 No, no ; it can not be. Farewell, farewell 1 
 
 neither by the morning's dawn or evening's glow, 
 Nor at mid-day nor 'neath the many stars 
 
 And moon by night, nor in the stormy winds 
 Shall we together be again, — farewell. 
 
 Boms. (Embracing her.) Resulka dear, where 
 wilt thou go? The king's 
 Destroying thine idols ; soon he will compel 
 The people to the river side to be 
 Baptised. 
 
 Resul. O worse is he than furious blasts 
 
 That ride in winter from the northern skies. 
 
 1 must go, Boris, let me pass. 
 
 {Boins releases her and she departs at the left as Kaysan 
 enters, unnoticed, at the right.) 
 
 BoKis. Almighty God, 
 
 Help me to win her to Thee, else my life 
 Is only half-fulfilled ! What is the world.? 
 A river bed Hfe flows thru; what's the sky.? 
 Earth's helmet visored with the stars thru which 
 We see eternity ! O what am I ? 
 A bow-string sagging when the aiTow's shot.? 
 Nay, I'm the arrow, which may God discharge 
 Into her trembling soul, that it may feel 
 No felon blow but just a gentle wave 
 Of life, like that which laps the sedges here 
 
 [99] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 And feeds their roots. Then, Mighty God, renew 
 The pulse beats of Thy bow, draw back its cord 
 To shoot this arrow in Resulka's heart! 
 
 Kay. (Coming forward from the field at the 
 right. ) 
 Thou infidel, I know thou 'rt for the king. 
 May Perun strike thee, Boris; mayest thou 
 Be scourged by plaited manes, full three ells long! 
 Thou dost abet the king who's hurling down 
 Our gods into swamp waters and marsh grasses ! * 
 O for old Kaysan's sake, bid him forbear! 
 May thy words be as silken snares 
 That will enmesh his waving sword! The ravens 
 
 caw 
 All night; a red plumed crow alit upon 
 The palace yester eve; our land is doomed! 
 
 Boris. Good Kaysan, peace; we're safe and can 
 live well 
 Without the idols ; weep no more, nor curse 
 The king. 
 
 Kay. O Boris, could I fit 
 
 A poisoned arrow to the cord, then draw my bow, 
 'Twould kill him where he stands ! 
 
 Boris. It would but strike 
 
 The golden cross he wears and glance aside. 
 
 Kay. He wears a cross and will not bow to Perun ! 
 His base heart damns our land. 
 
 Boris. Kaysan speaks false, 
 
 But slander does its harm; it is like coal 
 Which, if it doth not burn, will soil our hands. 
 Before I go, good Kaysan, see my cross. 
 The king and I swore brotherhood and then 
 Exchanged the crosses that we wore. 
 
 [100] 
 
Act III 
 
 (Boris shows his cross to Kaysan, who looks, then turning 
 away from it, wipes his eyes with his handkerchief and 
 does not look around again until Boris has gone out at 
 the left.) 
 
 Kay. (Alone.) Vladimir is baptised! O cursed 
 waters, 
 Why did ye open that he might arise 
 From out your depths? O would he were within 
 His iron bound coffers with his jewels there! 
 And if his palace covered seven versts, 
 I would not enter in, and tho green wine 
 Gushed forth from every hoof print of his horse, 
 I would not drink a drop of it ! 
 
 {Enter at the left Yaroslafna, Elena, and a few boys and 
 girls. ) 
 
 Yards. Good Kaysan, 
 
 Thou bendest as the willows do and singest 
 Despairingly as well thou mightst, — our gods 
 Are gone! 
 
 Elena. I'll make a wreath for Kaysan's head. 
 
 {She cuts some wheat and winds it into a wreath; Kaysan 
 sits down.) 
 
 Kay. Then let me sing my last song ere I go ! 
 My heart is fluttering like the falcon's wing; 
 My song is like the white swan's ere it dies ! 
 My dreams flee like the ermine coursing thru 
 The river grasses and my mourning hopes 
 Are quivering like the bow string that hath sprung. 
 My heart beats on my breast as arrow cases 
 Upon a rider's back. My girdle is a rag, — 
 No flaming sword belt as Vladimir's is ! 
 No glittering casque is mine nor dapple bay; 
 My pilgrim foot's my staff' and my white hairs 
 
 [101] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 The silver armor of my head; my swords 
 Are songs but they are dull and blunt with strokes 
 Upon Vladimir's stony heart. O now 
 His spurs tear thru my breast as if it were 
 His horse's flank! So let old Kaysan die; 
 Yea, die with Russia's gods ; as they are, so is he. 
 Elena. Then be thou crowned as Perun, with 
 this wreath, 
 
 (She places it on his head.) 
 
 And when thou diest, take it to the gods, — 
 A token of thy endless homage here 
 To Perun, whom our king repudiates. 
 
 Yards. It is a crown with yellow tassels, Kaysan. 
 
 Elena. 'Tis earth's brocade that we have 
 harvested. 
 To clothe old Kaysan in. 
 
 Yards. And if his girdle 
 
 Is made of rags, his crown's of tawny gold. 
 
 Elena. His heart is steady like the massy ground. 
 
 (Mingled shouts of gladness and sorrow heard, sounding 
 afar of at the left.) 
 
 Kay. Hark! Perun's groaning; he is dying, so 
 May I! 
 
 (He sinks to the ground, and the girls attend him.) 
 
 Elena. Here, — lay thy old head in my lap. 
 (Places it there.) 
 
 Kay. While falcons meet together 'mongst the 
 oaks; 
 White cygnets in the green woods; gods on high! 
 So may I meet with them ! Farewell, good friends, 
 This song and then I die. 
 
 [102] 
 
Act III 
 
 (The shouts continue and grow louder.) 
 
 Hark, how he groans ! 
 But I shall sing and singing, die. These fields, 
 Harrowed so oft with our swift horses' feet, 
 Shall bear my tread no more. 
 
 (Sounds continue.) 
 
 The gods groan, but I sing. 
 Not dallying with grief, but knowing my end. 
 say that I went with my idols hence ! 
 My broken heart is a wind-fractured reed. 
 Whose music falters, whilst the winds blow on 
 And waters ravish all, — they are Vladimir's blows; 
 He is the king and I am only Kay. 
 (He becomes weaker.) 
 
 I've reached Death's cross road and my tired foot 
 Falls from the stirrup. 
 
 Elena. Here's my handkerchief; 
 
 Thou'lt need it in thy future journeying. 
 (She puts it in his hand.) 
 Kay. Swathe me in silken cloths. 
 (Shouts heard very near.) 
 
 O hark! I sway 
 As if in topmost tufts of hardy pines. 
 Look, look, the king drags Perun in the dirt. 
 Now I am gliding off; tell them poor Kay 
 Hath died of grief. 
 
 (Kaysan dies.) 
 
 Elena. His light's gone out. 
 
 Yards. He's dead. 
 
 [103] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Elena. Come, carry him into the com where 
 none 
 Will see him. 
 
 Yards. Where he'll sing no more. 
 
 {Enter at the left, Vladimir, with his guard carrying the 
 lesser idols. They are followed by a horse dragging the 
 idol Perun, tied to its tail. Two men are beating it with 
 whips and behind them are men and women uttering loud 
 groans. Aloysha is trying in vain to put the wreath on 
 Perun's head. When the horse stops, he does so; all 
 stand still and the shouts subside.) 
 
 Vlad. (Moving to Kay sari's side.) Is Kaysan 
 dead.'' 
 
 Elena. He's dead of grief. The lash 
 
 That smote on Perun, wound about his heart 
 And choked his song. 
 
 Vlad. His loyal heart's 
 
 A heritage and his sweet songs will live 
 When idols have been cast away. Thus let 
 Me pay my tribute to this martyred soul, 
 Who passed because he loved his gods. O may 
 His stories and his songs outlive my sword! 
 Their music's sweeter than the whir it's made; 
 Their harmony's more beautiful 
 Than clashing steel; their words less maddened 
 Than my wild threats and oaths have been ! And as 
 Thy songs, dead Kaysan, have been sung for years 
 By myriad tongues in myriad climes; since they 
 Are old, yea very old, since some of them 
 Have crossed deep seas, have forded streams, 
 Leapt mountains, travelled sandy steppes to reach 
 Old Russia's plains; yea, since they have outlived 
 The dusty dynasties of yore, 
 Survived the centuries and even human tribes, 
 
 [104] 
 
Act III 
 
 So may they still be sung and re-sung too, 
 By Russia's generations in the future years, 
 Like an eternal strain of poetry 
 And music, that can only cease 
 When human hearts in our land beat no more ! 
 (Pause.) 
 
 Now take him hence, I love thee better, Kaysan, 
 Not for thy gods, but for thy steadfastness. 
 
 (Elena and others carry Kaysan into the field at the right.) 
 
 Aloy. Thou wishest our songs to Uve, why not 
 our gods? 
 They too have come from far to Russia's plains. 
 And more praise them than sing dead Kaysan's songs. 
 
 Vlad. I do not praise them; that should be 
 enough. 
 
 Aloy. However, I have crowned Perun, great 
 King; 
 My hands that did these final rites to him 
 Shall never sign the cross upon my breast. 
 May thine not wanton with the laureate wreath 
 Upon his head; bare not the cross before his eyes, 
 Nor hurl thy thongs in heaven's face 
 To make them fall with sword-like blows upon 
 Great Perun's back! 
 
 Vlad. My God will outlive songs 
 
 And idols too ; fear not. Now, men, flog Perun well 
 And cast him in the Dnieper's water here. 
 If he be god of thunder or of anything. 
 Let him call down the anger of his heav'n, 
 Which I shall challenge, for it's powerless. 
 
 (The men untie Perun from the horse, flog it and cast the 
 wreath aside, which Aloysha picks up.) 
 
 [105] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Populace. Great Perun, help! 
 
 (They fall on their knees before the idol.) 
 Aloy. Great King, hold off thy men! 
 
 {Draws a dirk and advances toward him.) 
 
 I'm not afraid of thee or death. Behold, 
 Thy time has come. Kaysan is dead and I 
 Will die, but not before I invocate 
 The retribution of the gods on thee. 
 
 Vlad. I may not draw my sword, e'en tho 
 provoked. 
 
 (He stands without making any defense.) 
 
 Strike if thou wilt ; strike as those lashes fall ; 
 
 Vladimir's pledged his heaven to forswear 
 
 His sword, — ^his God protects him now. Take heed. 
 
 Yet strike me if thou wilt; here is my breast. 
 
 Wherein no arrow, spear or sword, 
 
 Hath ever sheathed itself. By God's command 
 
 It hath awaited for Aloysha ; strike, 
 
 And test my God who gave me sight again. 
 
 (Aloysha stands still and the men cease beating Perun.) 
 
 Aloy. I know thou art invulnerable. 
 Vlad. Strike here. 
 
 Aloy. I can not hurt thee; thou art like a god. 
 Vlad. Then let thy useless threats return, 
 Aloysha, 
 Into the coward heart that made them thus. 
 Take profit, thereby, for thy future oaths 
 And learn from my sheathed sword, that I have 
 found 
 
 A better power. 
 
 [106] 
 
Act III 
 
 Aloy. (Moving hack among the people.) O thou 
 
 art king indeed! 
 Vlad. (To his guard.) Put down those idols, 
 scourge them then and throw 
 Them in the river. 
 
 (The guards do so.) 
 
 People. Perun, help! Our king 
 
 Destroys our gods! 
 
 Vlad. (Seeing the idols sink in the river.) Thus 
 
 let our fears be sunk 
 
 And our old gods depart. Now scourge Perun 
 
 Once more and hurl him too. 
 
 {The men whip the idol Perun and carry it to the river 
 bank. The people rush and bow down before it.) 
 
 Aloy. Perun, if thou'rt a god, 
 
 Then save thyself ! O may thy silver head 
 Beam thru the murky stream; thy golden beard 
 Shine like the rising sun ! Ye waves, let him not sink 
 Or he shall order heav'n to drink your rains 
 And ye shall die of thirst! 
 
 Vlad. (To his men hesitating.) O throw it in! 
 
 {They throw Perun into the river and in a moment the 
 waters toss it out upon the sands.) 
 
 Aloy. Thou blessed river! See, he is our god! 
 The waves 
 Refuse to be thy partners in this crime, 
 O King! 
 
 People. Perun's our god ! The king can't harm 
 Him now ! 
 
 {They rush to the idol and kneel before it.) 
 
 Vlad. The waters throw him back? Aha, 
 Perhaps his heaven's not so powerless then. 
 
 [107] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 I'll see; men throw him in again. 
 
 His eyes and ears are full of river mud; 
 
 He hears no prayers now; throw him in again. 
 
 {They do so.) 
 
 Now let him send his lightnings that all Kief 
 May bend before the waves he lieth in. 
 
 {Silence, during which all look for Perun's reappearance. 
 When they are certain that the idol is sunk, they begin 
 to despair.) 
 
 Aloy. Sunk, sunk is he! O let Earth sink down 
 too, 
 With all the woes we bear! Thou wicked King, 
 Thy footing makes a print upon our hearts 
 As if 'twere dug with spurs ! Thy very eyes 
 Have antlers piercing thru our flesh, and if thy 
 
 sword 
 Is sheathed, thy foot's exposed and spurs 
 The back of Russia thou dost straddle. 
 
 Vlad. Thy gods have gone yet thou art still 
 alive. 
 So let thine anger go with them. My God 
 Be thine for this time forth ; trust ye in Him. 
 
 Aloy. Show us thy god and give return for 
 what 
 Thou takest away. Why wilt thou martyr us 
 For whims of thine; plot with thy plagues upon 
 Our souls; cast down our holy images. 
 Speaking the while strange names and calling that 
 
 God 
 Which can be neither seen nor felt? O King, 
 Thou takest the Earth away; we tread on air 
 And our foundation's gone! 
 
 [108] 
 
Act III 
 
 ViiAD. Stamp with thy foot, 
 
 Earth's here; thy gods are gone, thou livest yet. 
 Thine images are dead but Christ's alive, 
 Whom death could not withhold, He is our God, 
 And soon. His priests, who shall baptise us all. 
 Will show the images of Him which thou 
 Canst touch and pray to. 
 
 Aloy. Thou wouldst make us traitors. 
 
 Come people; we can't barter gods nor take, 
 
 O King, those of another land, for we 
 
 Have prospered with our own and tho their images 
 
 Are cast away, we'll love them yet. 
 
 {Aloysha, followed by the people, start to the left as two 
 priests in Greek Church garb enter at that side.) 
 
 ViiAD. (To the priests.) Now ye are come. 
 Good people, stop ! 
 Here are Christ's messengers who shall baptise 
 You where your gods are cast. 
 
 Aloy. {Stopping with the others.) O thou 
 wouldst make 
 The stream thine ally and would cradle us 
 Within its lapping waves to be thus nursed 
 To love for foreign gods. They shall not clothe 
 My people in their billowy folds nor rock 
 Our babes or elders on their watery couches ! 
 
 Vlad. Whoever shall refuse to be baptised. 
 No matter whether rich or poor, shall be 
 In my disfavor. 
 
 A1.0Y. Come with me, my people. 
 
 I'll lead you thru this orphan-world. 
 Step-fathered by a king who cursed our gods. 
 Expecting that his sword would light the land 
 In this drear darkness of their banishment. 
 
 [109] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 (The people pass out with Aloysha leading them, as Vladi- 
 mir approaches and threatens them with his sword.) 
 
 Vlad. Stop! (He flourishes his sword. Rogne- 
 da's ghost appears before him.) 
 
 RoG. My peace is intermissive tho I strove 
 To help thee keep the charge thou sworest to. 
 When wilt thou cease to threaten with thy sword? 
 When wilt thou ransom me from my unrest? 
 
 when wilt thou redeem thy bloody weapon 
 By its baptism to another life? 
 
 Thy sword-sheath's like my grave which opes too oft 
 To let me pass. May both be closed! O let 
 My mound remain intact for evermore, 
 Nor waken me with thy sword's blazing countenance ! 
 
 1 hear thine every word; I see thy deeds; 
 Thine ill-intended hand upon thy hilt 
 Is like a vulture at my throat and when 
 Thou flourisheth it angrily among 
 
 The turrets of the sky to tempt the gods, 
 I rise to Earth to bring it down therefrom 
 Before they shall destroy thy life. O let 
 Me rest forever now and sink into my sheath 
 As shall thy sword in thine. 
 
 Vlad. Thou beautiful spir't, 
 
 Thou ghost-like governess that cometh from afar 
 To soothe the temper of Vladimir's zeal, 
 Receive my sword. 
 
 {He offers it.) O take it hence with thee ! 
 I had forgot my vows and gentle Christ, 
 In whose name I'd immerse my countrymen, 
 Yet drive them to it by swords! My fickle temper 
 Makes fatal strikes betimes, so then receive 
 My blade. 
 
 [110] 
 
Act III 
 
 RoG. It is impossible for me 
 
 To grasp Earth's weapons. Thou must save thyself. 
 Now sheathe thine untamed sword ; store it within 
 The sable coffer hanging at thy side. 
 Thy land hath need of life, not death. 
 
 Vlad. Good spirit, 
 
 But once hereafter shall it be unsheathed, 
 And not to flourish but to be baptised; 
 Yea, cleansed of its sins, sheathed within 
 These waters momentarily and then 
 Forever in this case wherein I thrust 
 It now. 
 
 (He sheathes Ms sioord.) 
 
 RoG. Farewell again! My spir't 
 
 Shall rest the while thy word holds true. 
 I leave the blind world now ; take thou its arm 
 And lead it on. Deal gently if it stumbles. 
 Remember this : light was restored to thee ; 
 Be thou the eyes for Russia then. Look up, 
 For now thy sword will never blind thee more. 
 The aftermath of lightning flashes leaves 
 Earth darker than before them, therefore use 
 A better light than sword gleams give. 
 
 Vlad. 'Tis thou 
 
 Who'st led me to the better light. My sword 
 Was but a mirage of the sun, — 
 The glamor that eclipsed the true God's face. 
 But if its boastful flourishes enticed 
 Thee from thy grave, then may it boast again. 
 Go not; I love thee; I am jealous, too 
 Of th' other world that hath thee as its bride. 
 
 RoG. Farewell, I am the bride of light, who gave 
 Thee pain and helped thee conquer it; farewell! 
 
 [Ill] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 {Rogneda's ghoat slowly disappears.) 
 
 Vlad. Thou precious ghost-flower, thou shalt 
 bloom within 
 The garden of mine eyes, tho thou dost fade 
 And sink into the earth. Thy pilgrimage 
 Hither and hence hath ceased; now shalt thou rest. 
 (Addressing the priests.) 
 
 Come, we must bring the people back. 
 
 {Vladimir, his guard and the priests go out at the left. 
 Boris and Resulka enter at the right.) 
 
 Resul. O I can run from thee no more, so here 
 I'll stand to prove my vows of no avail. 
 I'm Hke the cuckoo Hngering upon 
 An oak branch when the wand'ring falcon's flown. 
 And why, dear Boris, why.'' my nest is torn; 
 Its feathers scattered. Where shall I rest now? 
 
 Boris. (Embracing her,) Rest here, Resulka, 
 for this breast tho scarred 
 By spear and arrow; bruised with brooding too 
 O'er thy strange love for me and not my God, 
 Is not too tattered to support thy head. 
 Make me thine idol, dear; Vladimir will 
 Not cast me forth. O bow to me and I 
 Shall bless and love thee ever! 
 
 Resul. (Letting her head fall on his breast.) 
 
 Then be thou 
 The nest whereon my weary head may rest. 
 Our gods are gone, but thou art here ; save me ! 
 The world is large and strange and so 
 I'll cling to just the little part thou art. 
 
 Boris. Yes, cling to me and I'll protect thee 
 ever. 
 
 [112] 
 
Act III 
 
 Resul. O Boris, be my god, my idol if thou 
 wilt! 
 I can't resist thee more; thy God be mine! 
 
 be my nest built on a solid oak. 
 
 And I'll embrace thee with my two wings thus. 
 {Puts her arms about him.) 
 
 1 love thee so! And now my leaf-long lips 
 Are jealous of my arms. O let me kiss 
 
 Thee too and thus embrace thy lips with mine. 
 (She kisses him. Boris releases his hold.) 
 
 O Boris, spread thy bending arms o'er me. 
 
 Like young boughs striving with the passionate 
 
 winds. 
 That I may be well wrapped and wound within 
 Their soft folds. 
 
 (He does so.) 
 
 Thou art mine again. Ah now 
 My breast feels warm with thine and deepest love 
 Anoints our sweet embrace with peace of heart. 
 Boris. (Spreading his arms about her without 
 embracing her.) 
 This arc of outspread arms contains a world 
 And as the round becomes complete, 'twill hold 
 Both Heav'n and Earth in its circumference. 
 
 (He embraces her. Elena, Yaroslafna and Ilya come in 
 at the right. Boris and Resulka draio apart.) 
 
 Elena. Resulka, Kaysan's dead and dead of 
 
 grief. 
 Resul. Of grief! 
 
 Yaros. The King chastised Perun and threw 
 
 Old Kaysan's idols down. 
 8 [113] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Resul. Poor Kay! 
 
 He must have loved them better still than I, 
 But now I'm glad there're gone for I've 
 Another one Vladimir won't destroy. 
 
 Boris. We'll miss his songs and him, but not his 
 gods. 
 He's dead with pagan Russia ; peace to him now. 
 (Aloysha enters hurriedly at the left.) 
 
 Aloy. (Pointing to the left.) See, see, the king 
 comes with his priests ; the people 
 Come with him for baptism; they've forsaken 
 Our gods and now believe in his. My wrath 
 That bears me to you 's like a hearse on which 
 I ride to death. O well it is poor Kay 
 Is dead ! Where have you buried him ? I'll lie 
 By 's side nor shall the king's sword conjure 
 My ghost above my tomb. 
 
 (Shouts heard.) 
 
 Hear, hear; they come! 
 
 Boris. Praise God, they come; praise God, thine 
 idols go ! 
 Great Russia doth exhale their poisonous breath. 
 So stay with us, Aloysha; be baptised. 
 
 Aloy. Profaner of our gods, thou too hast fallen 
 Within the compass of his brandished sword. 
 That, by its evil-conjured gleams hath forced 
 My people to obey his will ! O how 
 My festive heart's infected with this woe 
 And in the harvest hour is cut in twain 
 By that wide swathe Vladimir's scythe hath made ! 
 
 Resul. good Aloysha, weep no more ; our gods 
 Have not yet damned us, tho they are cast down. 
 
 [114] 
 
Act III 
 
 Aloy. Thou too, Resulka? O friends, let me die! 
 
 Elena. No ; live with us and we will care for thee. 
 
 Yards. Aloysha dear, despair not; all is well. 
 
 Aloy. Ye all may go Vladimir's way, not I! 
 Farewell! O how the great white world 
 Is blackened by the presence of this king! 
 Now shake thy falchion at me. Death; I wiU 
 Not run away nor hide in hauberk's steel 1 
 
 (Noises heard of an approaching throng.) 
 Aloysha's dying and the huge earth seems 
 A crusher as Vladimir is ! 
 O if my will were mighty as my grief, 
 'Twould conquer him, but it can not, so I 
 Must be the vanquished one. 
 
 (He goes out hurriedly at the right, thru the corn field.) 
 
 Boris. He should have gone 
 
 Into the river where his idols are. 
 
 He's going backward; Russia moveth on. 
 
 (Enter, amid shouts, Vladimir, the two priests, and the popu- 
 lace, men and women of various ranks.) 
 
 Vlad. Hail to the conqueror who doth not use 
 
 His sword but gathers followers 
 
 By his persuasive words ! O Christ in Heav'n, 
 
 I've found Thy way and will above my steel! 
 
 Thy law is fitter than my lances are. 
 
 And better e'en than arrows from the silk-strung bow. 
 
 Love penetrates the chain-mail and altho 
 
 The visored helmet's closed it strikes the ear! 
 
 Therefore, let all divest themselves of arms, 
 
 Made of most pehetrable stuff and trust 
 
 This baptism to be protection now. 
 
 (All who have armor or loeapons, throw them down, making 
 a considerable noise. The day begins to darken.) 
 
 [115] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 Hark, 'tis the devil groaning in his woe! 
 His implements are cast away as were 
 The idols of the pagan days, and now 
 On this first Christian evening of our land, 
 We'll celebrate a vesper rite and be 
 Baptised unto the Church of Christ. Let all 
 Move toward the river bank and none refuse. 
 
 1st Priest. (Seizing a peasanfs scythe.) 
 First let me cut a cross upon the stream 
 To charm all evil spirits away. 
 
 (He does so, then all except Vladimir, Boris and the two 
 priests approach the water's edge, and as the priests read 
 and chant the baptismal service, the people step into the 
 water, some further than others, some even up to their 
 necks,* then they come out again, and the priests continue 
 the service a moment thereafter.) 
 
 Vlad. All hail the Russian Christian land which 
 hath 
 Remembered her Creator in her youthful days. 
 That she might not forget Him when she's oM. 
 Then hail, thou Holy Russia, hail! 
 Be ever known as holy from this hour. 
 O Gracious God, whom we acknowledge here; 
 Whom we shall never cast away, look down 
 And bless these rites ! Bind us to Thee 
 With arms of love, just as the silver fillet 
 Of stars entwines the crown of heaven's head! 
 
 (The priests distribute crosses among the people, instruct- 
 ing them how to cross themselves, then show them the 
 holy images, after which process, a number of them move 
 to the left, desiring to return to the city.) 
 
 ViiAD. Wait, wait, my people, there's another rite 
 
 * As expressly stated in Nestor's Chronicle. 
 [116] 
 
Act III 
 
 To be performed. My sword must be baptised ; 
 Immersed in cleansing waters where je've washed. 
 (All stop.) 
 
 Rogneda, thou wast right; there was another reahn 
 That I should conquer, and it was myself, 
 My pain, my madness and my bloody wrath. 
 I'll flourish crosses and the crosiers now. 
 And let dull sloth eat off my sword's edge too, — 
 The sword once deemed a wand that could surpass 
 The rising sun's rays, northern lights and stem 
 A thousand thousand mutinies ! But now 
 It shall not flourish more nor send its flames 
 Into Rogneda's quiet tomb, nor draw 
 Pale blood drops from her ashen brow! 
 (Holds his sword aloft.) 
 
 Thou garish weapon, hght of younger days. 
 Thou wast my god whom I surrender too ! 
 Thou idol unto whom I bowed, I am forgiven 
 Of blasphemy to Heav'n; thou too, must be. 
 Thus I baptise thee where my people were; 
 Wash off thy stains, subdue thy capering. 
 And show thee to thy conqueror, the Christ. 
 
 (He dips his sword into the river, then raises it aloft again.) 
 O thou hast waved o'er many a field and paced 
 The white world o'er, but now thy work is done; 
 This is thy judgment day; Time ends for thee. 
 Thy circumscription is the narrow sheath. 
 Wherein thy power's entombed! Farewell! 
 
 (He sheathes his sword and then turns to Boris.) 
 Boris, make Akim free then bid him come 
 
 To me. 
 
 (Boris departs at the left.) 
 
 [117] 
 
Give Up Your Gods 
 
 1st Priest. Ah, thou art King indeed 
 
 A boon to captives; to heart broken ones, 
 A priest for Christ's sake. People, love your king. 
 The truest conqueror your land could have. 
 
 {He puts a cross on Vladimir's breast.) 
 
 Vlad. {To the people.) Good people, hear! 
 
 Would that the years to come 
 Beheld our rites and saw me sheathe my sword. 
 Whose dying gleams would warn our land and lessen 
 Our fratricidal strife ! So, sheathe your blades 
 And love your God who blesses this broad land 
 Whose East, impatient for the rising sun. 
 Envies the passing orb, but with true love. 
 Speeds its departing chariot to the west ; 
 Whose North, silvered with gleams of Heaven's 
 
 sword, 
 Implores its southward flashes sow their fire 
 E'en to the Black Sea's shore; a land wherein God's 
 
 love 
 Is shed with equity more true than man's 
 Unto his fellow man ; a brotherly land 
 Whose rivers, rising in the north, gird up 
 Their liquid loins and migrate to the south. 
 Thus, with their silvery and sinuous arms 
 Most mother-like, they fold the great white world 
 In their embrace; a land too, whose soft winds 
 Rise in the south as rivers in the north. 
 And by their currents, God restores 
 Unto the north more than it gives away. 
 Our land inspires our unity ! Behold 
 Its providential plans and harmonies 
 Which we must imitate for peace and love. 
 
 [118] 
 
Act III 
 
 {Enter Boris, and Akim armed with his bow, at the left.) 
 
 Akim, thou art free. I have sheathed my sword; 
 
 Put by thy bow and arrows for my sake 
 
 Akim. (Seeing that the people expect him to do 
 
 so.) 
 
 Then take my weapons, Boris; if I'm free, 
 
 I'll do the bidding of the king. 
 
 (The people shout in approbation and clamor around 
 Vladim,ir expressing their loyalty and crossing themselves 
 to give proof of their sincerity.) 
 
 1st Man. Thou art our king indeed! Thy god 
 is ours ! 
 
 2nd Man. O hail Vladimir who protects us now! 
 Thou art the true king. 
 
 3rd Man. Vladimir, we love thee ! 
 
 Vlad. You love not that Vladimir who once was ; 
 Since coming to you, I've become a king. 
 I've put my helmet off in hopes 
 The halo of a holy spirit would be 
 The gleaming fillet 'round my head. My sword 
 Is like the comet that hath passed; my spears, 
 Like grain that's harvested ; my hauberk's steel 
 Is less protection than the air. There was 
 A famine in my soul, a dearth of peace. 
 And too much woe ; now riches fill it full, 
 And I'm at rest, and this, our Russian land. 
 Hath but one God, one King, one loving band. 
 
 THE END. 
 
WILLIAM TELL 
 
 A Poetic Drama 
 
 By ARTHUR DOUGHERTY REES 
 
 Can be ordered through the J. B. Lippincott Company, 
 Philadelphia, and through the leading booksellers. Price, ^1.25 
 post-paid. 
 
 "William Tell" shows much ability in construction, skill in versifica- 
 tion, beauty of conception, and vigor of expression. It marks a distinct 
 advance in the art of the author. — Philadelphia Record. 
 
 The seriousness of purpose, the high aim of the playwright, appeal to us 
 forcibly in this stiff-necked generation of farce-makers. Mr. Rees belongs, 
 we should say, with Stephen Phillips and Percy Mackaye in a work of re- 
 naissance. — Cincinnati Enquirer. 
 
 The play is written in blank verse, the imagery poetic, and the subject 
 treated with dignity worthy so fine a XYievaQ.— Baltimore Sun. 
 
 The author deals with an inspiring theme and treats it in lofty verse 
 which has abounding vigor, but suffers from superfluous ornament. At the 
 same time Mr. Rees reveals the true poetic faculty, gives an imaginative 
 interpretation of the Swiss character, and shows a fine sense of what is truly 
 dramatic ; and his pages have fervor and spirit.— Philadelphia Press. 
 
 The dramatic interest of the play is purely intellectual, almost socio- 
 ogical, since the theme is of social evolution.— C/iicayo Evening Post. 
 
 Both dramatically and poetically the drama is well written and carries 
 with it the impression that it is susceptible of effective stage presentation.— 
 Chicago Daily News. 
 
THE DOUBLE LOVE 
 
 A Drama of American Life 
 
 SEVENTY-FIVE CENTS 
 
 (Postage, Four Cents Extra) 
 
 (( (I 
 
 The Double Love ' is an effort which denotes a highly- 
 cultivated mind, a thorough knowledge of human emotions, and 
 literary ability of the most finished character. There are many 
 beautiful passages in it." — Buffalo Courier. 
 
 " Mr. Eees has not attained supernal poetic heights in this 
 work, but there are evidences of creative power, facility of 
 rhythmic expression, and deep thought in the drama. The 
 author has a general and usually correct conception of the means 
 for obtaining dramatic effects. His plot or theme is not in- 
 volved, and is carefully carried to the fiinal situation." — Phila- 
 delphia Record. 
 
 " ' The Double Love ' is a modem drama, half of which is 
 written in verse, and is a tragedy of social conditions, which is 
 indicated by the title. The work is written with care and the 
 story interest is sustained throughout. It covers just a week, 
 and there are some unusually good scenes. The poetry is at 
 times elevated in thought and is always pleasing." — Philadelphia 
 Inquirer. 
 
 THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO. 
 
 I006-I016 Arch St., Philadelphia 
 
COLUMBUS 
 
 A Drama 
 
 By ARTHUR DOUGHERTY REES 
 
 For sale at the following book-stores : Wanamaker's ; 
 Gimbel Brothers' ; Campion's, 1305 Walnut Street ; Peter 
 Reilly's, 133 North 13th Street ; American Baptist Publica- 
 tion Society, 17th and Chestnut Streets. Can also be ordered 
 from the publishers— The John C. Winston Co., 1006-1016 
 Arch Street, Philadelphia. Price, One Dollar, postage Jive cents 
 extra. 
 
 COMMENTS OF THE PRESS: 
 
 Boston Globe. "Mr. Rees has written in 'Columbus, a drama,' a play 
 which gives a stirring picture of the great discoverer." 
 
 New York Globe. " In the poetic drama, ' Columbus,' the reader will find 
 a generous and thoughtful characterization of the discoverer and a simple 
 and effective presentation of the story of his life. It is unexceptional in taste 
 and motive. As poetry it is of good quality ; its principal merits are a large- 
 ness of vision and a conscientious endeavor to make all things plain." 
 
 Chicago News. " It is well proportioned in the literary sense." 
 
 Philadelphia Record. " ' Columbus, a drama,' has majesty of thought and 
 beauty of expression, and the author unfolds the story with skill and ability. 
 The poem is a tine picture of Columbus and his great career." 
 
 Mr. Fi-ancis Howard Williams in The Fortnightly (Philadelphia). "We 
 have in this drama a very worthy attempt to depict the bravery, determina- 
 tion, and, above all, the unwavering faith of that great man who, obedient 
 to the calling of the Spirit, crossed the mysterious ocean to find a continent. 
 
 "Mr. Rees unquestionably has the creative faculty. The content and 
 deeper thought of the drama command admiration." 
 
 Philadelphia Inquirer. " ' Columbus, a drama,' depicts the greater events 
 in the discoverer's life, from the Convent of La Rabida to his death, with no 
 little poetic and dramatic fervor." 
 
 Cincinnati Enquirer. "Taken as a whole the play pleases us, and our 
 inclination is to praise its general treatment." 
 
 St. Louis RepiMic. " ' Columbus, a drama,' is something original at least. 
 The reading of a drama is but dry work at best, but this one from the pen of 
 Mr. Rees is worthy of notice and is interesting." 
 
 Philadelphia Press. "The singularly dramatic story of the discoverer of 
 America is treated with much dignity and literary ability by Mr. Rees in 
 ' Columbus, a drama.' " 
 
C 3 I 908 
 
n 
 
 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 018 349 769 8 i