CZAR. Ay! and when kings are God's scourges for the people. Oh, my own son, in my own house! My own flesh and blood against me! Take him away! Take him away! Bring in my guards. (_Enter the Imperial Guard. CZAR points to CZAREVITCH, who stands alone at the side of the stage._) To the blackest prison in Moscow! Let me never see his face again. (_CZAREVITCH is being led out._) No, no, leave him! I don't trust guards. They are all Nihilists! They would let him escape and he would kill me, kill me! No, I'll bring him to prison myself, you and I (_to PRINCE PAUL_). I trust you, you have no mercy. I shall have no mercy. Oh, my own son against me! How hot it is! The air stifles me! I feel as if I were going to faint, as if something were at my throat. Open the windows, I say! Out of my sight! Out of my sight! I can't bear his eyes. Wait, wait for me. (_Throws window open and goes out on balcony._) PRINCE PAUL (_looking at his watch_). The dinner is sure to be spoiled. How annoying politics are and eldest sons! VOICE (_outside, in the street_). God save the people! (_CZAR is shot, and staggers back into the room._) CZARE. (_breaking from the guards, and rushing over_). Father! CZAR. Murderer! Murderer! You did it! Murderer! (_Dies._) TABLEAU. END OF ACT II. ACT III. _Same scene and business as Act I. Man in yellow dress, with drawn sword, at the door._ _Password outside._ Vae tyrannis. _Answer._ Vae victis (_repeated three times_). (_Enter CONSPIRATORS, who form a semicircle, masked and cloaked._) PRESIDENT. What hour is it? FIRST CONSP. The hour to strike. PRES. What day? SECOND CONSP. The day of Marat.[1] PRES. In what month? SECOND CONSP. The month of liberty. PRES. What is our duty? FOURTH CONSP. To obey. PRES. Our creed? FIFTH CONSP. Parbleu, Mons. le President, I never knew you had one. CONSPS. A spy! A spy! Unmask! Unmask! A spy! PRES. [2]Let the doors be shut. There are others but Nihilists present.[2] CONSPS. Unmask! Unmask! [3]Kill him! kill him![3] (_Masked CONSPIRATOR unmasks._) Prince Paul! VERA. Devil! Who lured you into the lion's den? CONSPS. Kill him! kill him![4] PRINCE PAUL. En verite, Messieurs, you are not over-hospitable in your welcome. VERA. Welcome! What welcome should we give you but the dagger or the noose? PRINCE PAUL. I had no idea, really, that the Nihilists were so exclusive. Let me assure you that if I had not always had an _entree_ to the very best society, and the very worst conspiracies, I could never have been Prime Minister in Russia. VERA. The tiger cannot change its nature, nor the snake lose its venom; but are you turned a lover of the people? PRINCE PAUL. Mon Dieu, non, Mademoiselle! I would much sooner talk scandal in a drawing-room than treason in a cellar. Besides, I hate the common mob, who smell of garlic, smoke bad tobacco, get up early, and dine off one dish. PRES. What have you to gain, then, by a revolution?