Peter The Great, of Orange. Usurper on the Throne. Sergey Soloviev

they’ve found a way to ruin their lives… Now we’ll cry. We wanted the best, but it turned out worse than ever…”.

      But he didn’t open his mouth either. And how could he open it? This foreigner is now the Tsar and Grand Duke of all Rus’, a true autocrat. And he has the right to execute and pardon everyone.

      Others, as if straining themselves, grabbed their staffs, as if they wanted to put them to use. Peter did not take up his sword, the hilt was at the giant’s hip.It was necessary to cheer up the nobles with words:

      – And here’s what, boyars… My Life Guards have acknowledged that I am the true Tsar. They, my real children, are standing and waiting for me. As if their dear father, without them… So, your paper, these Conditions, are of no use, – and he tore the document into pieces and threw it on the floor.

      Here the boyars realized that they wanted to catch a fat Dutch goose, which is good to eat with sauerkraut and green wine, but they caught, perhaps, a lion. And he himself can devour them. And even without crispy cabbage.

      Anna Mons

      Pyotr Alekseevich visited the bathhouse on his way back, where he happily lay on the shelf. And Aleksashka quickly beat him with a broom. Now the orderly was sweating much more than the tsar. And not so much from the heat of the stove, but from excitement. Otherwise, if he doesn’t like it, he’ll get angry…

      – Well, that’s it, my dear. Now we can rest… Let’s sit in the dressing room.

      – I wish I had something to drink…

      – Well, drink some kvass.

      Pyotr tried it, nodded his head approvingly. He sipped a few different ones. He liked the blackcurrant one the most.

      – Great… I haven’t had a drink in a long time, – he drawled, draining the clay mug to the last drop, – We need to go to Kukuy. To Annushka.

      – That’s true, my dear… It’s the best thing after the bathhouse! – and Menshikov smiled knowingly.

      – Shut up. I’ll knock your teeth out!

      Pyotr said these words, generally good-naturedly, and poured himself another full glass. He drank and looked at Alexashka with his round eyes over the edge of the mug.

      Soon a modest carriage with a pair of horses was carrying Peter, accompanied by Menshikov. Well, and also a small convoy of six dragoons. It was completely stupid to travel through the city when you were afraid that you would be stabbed or poisoned.

      The house where Peter’s favorite now lived was built of stone, with eight windows. And next to it in the yard were a couple of sheds, a barn and a stable. A worker brought hay for the horses of the owner’s team, and another swept the ground clean of straw and dirt. Everything was as always, clean and tidy.

      – Well, here we are, – Menshikov whispered and quickly opened the carriage door.

      Peter pursed his lips, stood up abruptly on the ground, shook out the hem of his caftan, and, squinting slightly, looked at the house.It was unclear whether he liked all this or not, and Alexashka did not want to pester the tsar with questions. Then, as if having made up his mind, he opened the front door, and the doorman almost flew out into the street.

      Peter laughed contentedly and slapped the footman on the shoulder in a friendly manner.

      – What, should I wait for you? – he shouted to Menshikov.

      – I’m already running, min hertz!

      They went up to the second floor to the living room. The room looked Dutch. Rafters under the roof, the walls were decorated with white and blue tiles, in the corners there were cupboards with dishes and books, next to a solidly laid table, and carved chairs.

      On the threshold stood a sharp-nosed, slightly plump girl in a beautiful, but not luxurious dress with elbow-length sleeves, decorated with lace. Her hair was slightly covered by an openwork cap, in the new fashion. In her hands was a tray with a glass of vodka and a pie, traditional Russian style.

      – Welcome back, Peter, – the lady said with a slightly charming accent.

      Peter drank the vodka in one gulp, immediately ate the pie, and kissed Anna roughly and harshly, causing her to scream.

      – And I’m glad I came back to you. Well, feed me, or what…

      With a doomed look, the German woman led the guests to the table. The food was there, in the German style – baked ham, fried sausages, potatoes. Everything was so nice and clean.

      Peter ate quickly and sharply, throwing greedy glances at the hostess, as if she were another dish of this dinner.

      – Well, have you eaten? – the tsar asked Menshikov, – go to Preobrazhenskoye, and wait for me there… Aleksashka quickly stood up, bowed and quickly left, not wanting to disturb the sovereign. He undoubtedly had important business to attend to here.

      A New Custom

      In the morning Peter was unusually cheerful, immediately called the barber. Shaving was a pleasure for him. Then he filled his pipe and lit up.

      – Well, Liber Alexashka. Today is an important day. Either they will kill me, or everything in Russia will be my way.

      – So maybe it’s not worth it, my dear? Why immediately on the blackamoor?

      – Little by little is not allowed here, it doesn’t work, – and thoughtfully he blew a cloud of smoke to the ceiling.

      On the benches the sovereign’s dwarves were bustling about and fighting for fun and royal awards. They looked funny in their long boyar fur coats, high hats and with crookedly glued-on beards that reached all the way to the floor.

      Then he ordered that a caftan of the Preobrazhensky Regiment be brought to him, he meticulously examined himself in the mirror, and seemed to be satisfied.

      – Set the tables, – commanded Pyotr, – and put out more vodka, more. And aniseed, and galangal. And good snacks. Pork ham, mushrooms… Aleksashka, have the masters arrived from the German Quarter?

      – Yes, they are waiting, but they really don’t understand why they were all called?

      – No matter, they will soon become proud of their craft. I am creating an opportunity for these people to earn money too! – and he laughed his wooden laugh again.

      – Oh, my God! It seems that the first ones have already arrived…

      Boyar carriages, covered carriages of Duma nobles and other service people began to accumulate in the courtyard. They all came to show off in front of each other, smartly dressed and important.

      – Aleksashka, go and set guards so that no one is let out… Otherwise, the devils will run away…

      – Got it, my God! – Menshikov answered, laughing, and ran off to carry out the tsar’s order. The stewards, very young boyar children, began to open the gates.The nobles went first to bow to the Tsar-father, to fall on their knees before their own father..

      As soon as they entered the chamber, there was an empty throne, and next to it a man similar in face to the Tsar was walking from wall to wall, only in foreign, evil clothes.

      – Greetings to you boyars, Duma clerks and nobles! I look at you, and my heart bleeds!

      – But why, father? We serve you faithfully and truly! – muttered Prince Dolgoruky.

      The courtier approached the Tsar. He looked at the prince, put his strong hands on his shoulders. And suddenly he laughed deafeningly.

      – Where did you lose your beard, Prince? – and again he feigned laughter.

      Dolgoruky grabbed his face in fear, and sure enough – his beard was cut off! And under the bench sits a dwarf,