The Collected Works of Oscar Wilde: 250+ Titles in One Edition. Оскар Уайльд

three days ago, when I found myself suddenly the Czar of this wide waste, Russia. Oh, could I see her for a moment; tell her now the secret of my life I have never dared utter before; tell her why I wear this crown, when I have sworn eternal war against all crowned men! There was a meeting tonight. I received my summons by an unknown hand; but how could I go? I who have broken my oath! who have broken my oath!

      (Enter Page.)

      Page. It is after eleven, Sire. Shall I take the first watch in your room tonight?

      Czar. Why should you watch me, boy? The stars are my best sentinels.

      Page. It was your Imperial father’s wish, Sire, never to be left alone while he slept.

      Czar. My father was troubled with bad dreams. Go, get to your bed, boy; it is nigh on midnight, and these late hours will spoil those red cheeks. (Page tries to kiss his hand.) Nay, nay; we have played together too often as children for that. Oh, to breathe the same air as her, and not to see her! the light seems to have gone from my life, the sun vanished from my day.

      Page. Sire, — Alexis, — let me stay with you tonight! There is some danger over you; I feel there is.

      Czar. What should I fear? I have banished all my enemies from Russia. Set the brazier here, by me; it is very cold, and I would sit by it for a time. Go, boy, go; I have much to think about tonight. (Goes to back of stage, draws aside curtain. View of Moscow by moonlight.) The snow has fallen heavily since sunset. How white and cold my city looks under this pale moon! And yet, what hot and fiery hearts beat in this icy Russia, for all its frost and snow! Oh, to see her for a moment; to tell her all; to tell her why I am a king! But she does not doubt me; she said she would trust in me. Though I have broken my oath, she will have trust. It is very cold. Where is my cloak? I shall sleep for an hour. Then I have ordered my sledge, and, though I die for it, I shall see Vera tonight. Did I not bid thee go, boy? What! must I play the tyrant so soon? Go, go! I cannot live without seeing her. My horses will be here in an hour; one hour between me and love! How heavy this charcoal fire smells. (Exit the Page. Lies down on a couch beside brazier.)

      (Enter Vera in a black cloak.)

      Vera. Asleep! God, thou art good! Who shall deliver him from my hands now? This is he! The democrat who would make himself a king, the republican who hath worn a crown, the traitor who hath lied to us. Michael was right. He loved not the people. He loved me not. (Bends over him.) Oh, why should such deadly poison lie in such sweet lips? Was there not gold enough in his hair before, that he should tarnish it with this crown? But my day has come now; the day of the people, of liberty, has come! Your day, my brother, has come! Though I have strangled whatever nature is in me, I did not think it had been so easy to kill. One blow and it is over, and I can wash my hands in water afterwards, I can wash my hands afterwards. Come, I shall save Russia. I have sworn it. (Raises dagger to strike.)

      Czar (staring up, seizes her by both hands). Vera, you here! My dream was no dream at all. Why have you left me three days alone, when I most needed you? O God, you think I am a traitor, a liar, a king? I am, for love of you. Vera, it was for you I broke my oath and wear my father’s crown. I would lay at your feet this mighty Russia, which you and I have loved so well; would give you this earth as a footstool! set this crown on your head. The people will love us. We will rule them by love, as a father rules his children. There shall be liberty in Russia for every man to think as his heart bids him; liberty for men to speak as they think. I have banished the wolves that preyed on us; I have brought back your brother from Siberia; I have opened the blackened jaws of the mine. The courier is already on his way; within a week Dmitri and all those with him will be back in their own land. The people shall be free — are free now — and you and I, Emperor and Empress of this mighty realm, will walk among them openly, in love. When they gave me this crown first, I would have flung it back to them, had it not been for you, Vera. O God! It is men’s custom in Russia to bring gifts to those they love. I said, I will bring to the woman I love a people, an empire, a world! Vera, it is for you, for you alone, I kept this crown; for you alone I am a king. Oh, I have loved you better than my oath! Why will you not speak to me? You love me not! You love me not! You have come to warn me of some plot against my life. What is life worth to me without you? (Conspirators murmur outside.)

      Vera. Oh, lost! lost! lost!

      Czar. Nay, you are safe here. It wants five hours still of dawn. Tomorrow, I will lead you forth to the whole people —

      Vera. Tomorrow — !

      Czar. Will crown you with my own hands as Empress in that great cathedral which my fathers built.

      Vera (loosens her hands violently from him, and starts up). I am a Nihilist! I cannot wear a crown!

      Czar (falls at her feet). I am no king now. I am only a boy who has loved you better than his honour, better than his oath. For love of the people I would have been a patriot. For love of you I have been a traitor. Let us go forth together, we will live amongst the common people. I am no king. I will toil for you like the peasant or the serf. Oh, love me a little too! (Conspirators murmur outside.)

      Vera (clutching dagger). To strangle whatever nature is in me, neither to love nor to be loved, neither to pity nor — — Oh, I am a woman! God help me, I am a woman! O Alexis! I too have broken my oath; I am a traitor. I love. Oh, do not speak, do not speak — (kisses his lips) — the first, the last time. (He clasps her in his arms; they sit on the couch together.)

      Czar. I could die now.

      Vera. What does death do in thy lips? Thy life, thy love are enemies of death. Speak not of death. Not yet, not yet.

      Czar. I know not why death came into my heart. Perchance the cup of life is filled too full of pleasure to endure. This is our wedding night.

      Vera. Our wedding night!

      Czar. And if death came himself, methinks that I could kiss his pallid mouth, and suck sweet poison from it.

      Vera. Our wedding night! Nay, nay. Death should not sit at the feast. There is no such thing as death.

      Czar. There shall not be for us. (Conspirators murmur outside.)

      Vera. What is that? Did you not hear something?

      Czar. Only your voice, that fowler’s note which lures my heart away like a poor bird upon the limed twig.

      Vera. Methought that some one laughed.

      Czar. It was but the wind and rain; the night is full of storm. (Conspirators murmur outside.)

      Vera. It should be so indeed. Oh, where are your guards? where are your guards?

      Czar. Where should they be but at home? I shall not live pent round by sword and steel. The love of a people is a king’s best bodyguard.

      Vera. The love of a people!

      Czar. Sweet, you are safe here. Nothing can harm you here. O love, I knew you trusted me! You said you would have trust.

      Vera. I have had trust. O love, the past seems but some dull grey dream from which our souls have wakened. This is life at last.

      Czar. Ay, life at last.

      Vera. Our wedding night! Oh, let me drink my fill of love tonight! Nay, sweet, not yet, not yet. How still it is, and yet methinks the air is full of music. It is some nightingale who, wearying of the south, has come to sing in this bleak north to lovers such as we. It is the nightingale. Dost thou not hear it?

      Czar. Oh, sweet, mine ears are clogged to all sweet sounds save thine own voice, and mine eyes blinded to all sights but thee, else had I heard that nightingale, and seen the golden-vestured morning sun itself steal from its sombre east before its time for jealousy that thou art twice as fair.

      Vera. Yet would that thou hadst heard the nightingale. Methinks that bird will never sing again.

      Czar. It is no nightingale. ‘Tis love himself singing for very ecstasy of joy that thou art changed into his votaress. (Clock begins striking twelve.) Oh, listen, sweet, it is the lover’s hour. Come, let us stand without, and hear the midnight answered from