[Midlands] Is dust; he has no heart to love thee, no eye to smile upon

[Minich]

 told with dazzling certainty that I Was the Czar's son, so long reputed
dead. With this one word the clouds that had perplexed My strange and
troubled life were cleared away. Nor merely by these signs, for such
deceive; But in my soul, in my proud, throbbing heart I felt within me
coursed the blood of kings; And sooner will I drain it drop by drop Than
bate one jot my title to the crown. ARCHBISHOP OF GNESEN. And shall we
trust a scroll which might have found Its way by merest chance into your
hands Backed by the tale of some poor renegades? Forgive me, noble
youth! Your tone, I grant, And bearing, are not those of one who lies;
Still you in this may be yourself deceived. Well may the heart be
pardoned that beguiles Itself in playing for so high a stake. What
hostage do you tender for your word? DEMETRIUS. I tender fifty, who will
give their oaths,-- All Piasts to a man, and free-born Poles Of spotless
reputation,--each of whom Is ready to enforce what I have urged. There
sits the noble Prince of Sendomir, And at his side the Castellan of
Lublin; Let them declare if I have spoke the truth. ARCHBISHOP OF
GNESEN. How seem these things to the august Estates? To the enforcement
of such numerous proofs Doubt and mistrust, methinks, must needs give
way. Long has a creeping rumor filled the world That Dmitri, Ivan's son,
is still alive. The Czar himself confirms it by his fears. --Before us
stands a youth, in age and mien Even to the very freak that nature
played, The lost heir's counterpart, and of a soul Whose n