Boris Godunov

GREGORY. Drink, and keep your thoughts to yourself,[4 - The Russian text has here a play on the words which cannot be satisfactorily rendered into English.]
Father Varlaam! You see, I too sometimes know how
to make puns.

VARLAAM. But why should I keep my thoughts to myself?

MISSAIL. Let him alone, Father Varlaam.

VARLAAM. But what sort of a fasting man is he? Of his
own accord he attached himself as a companion to us;
no one knows who he is, no one knows whence he comes—
and yet he gives himself grand airs; perhaps he has a
close acquaintance with the pillory. (Drinks and sings:
"A young monk took the tonsure," etc.)

GREGORY. (To HOSTESS.) Whither leads this road?

HOSTESS. To Lithuania, my dear, to the Luyov mountains.

GREGORY. And is it far to the Luyov mountains?

HOSTESS. Not far; you might get there by evening, but for
the tsar's frontier barriers, and the captains of the
guard.

GREGORY. What say you? Barriers! What means this?

HOSTESS. Someone has escaped from Moscow, and orders
have been given to detain and search everyone.

GREGORY. (Aside.) Here's a pretty mess!

VARLAAM. Hallo, comrade! You've been making up to
mine hostess. To be sure you don't want vodka, but
you want a young woman. All right, brother, all right!
Everyone has his own ways, and Father Missail and I
have only one thing which we care for—we drink to the
bottom, we drink; turn it upside down, and knock at
the bottom.

MISSAIL. Well said, Father Varlaam.

GREGORY. (To Hostess.) Whom do they want? Who
escaped from Moscow?

HOSTESS. God knows; a thief perhaps, a robber. But here
even good folk are worried now. And what will come of
it? Nothing. They will not catch the old devil; as if
there were no other road into Lithuania than the highway!
Just turn to the left from here, then by the pinewood
or by the footpath as far as the chapel on the
Chekansky brook, and then straight across the marsh to
Khlopin, and thence to Zakhariev, and then any child
will guide you to the Luyov mountains. The only good
of these inspectors is to worry passers-by and rob us poor
folk. (A noise is heard.) What's that? Ah, there
they are, curse them! They are going their rounds.

GREGORY. Hostess! Is there another room in the cottage?

HOSTESS. No, my dear; I should be glad myself to hide.
But they are only pretending to go their rounds; but
give them wine and bread, and Heaven knows what—
May perdition take them, the accursed ones! May—

(Enter OFFICERS.)

OFFICERS. Good health to you, mine hostess!

HOSTESS. You are kindly welcome, dear guests.

AN OFFICER. (To another.) Ha, there's drinking going on
here; we shall get something here. (To the Monks.)
Who are you?

VARLAAM. We—are two old clerics, humble monks; we are
going from village to village, and collecting Christian
alms for the monastery.

OFFICER. (To GREGORY.) And thou?

MISSAIL. Our comrade.

GREGORY. A layman from the suburb; I have conducted the
old men as far as the frontier; from here I am going to
my own home.

MISSAIL. So you have changed your mind?

GREGORY. (Sotto voce.) Be silent.

OFFICER. Hostess, bring some more wine, and we will
drink here a little and talk a little with these old men.

2ND OFFICER. (Sotto voce.) Yon lad, it appears, is poor;
there's nothing to be got out of him; on the other hand
the old men—

1ST OFFICER. Be silent; we shall come to them presently.
—Well, my fathers, how are you getting on?