"'Ask concerning that of my child, thou son of a dog--of him who was called thy brother, whom thou murderedst--of Nóvgorod, which thou hast drowned in blood, and covered with ashes!'
"'O, ho, ho!... Thou hast not forgotten thy folly, then--Lady of Nóvgorod the Great.'
"'Of what?... I said that I was praying for the dead. Thy Moscow, with all its hovels, can twice a-year be laid in ashes, and twice built up again. The Tartar hath held it two ages in slavery.... It pined, it pined away and yet it remains whole. It hath but changed one bondage for another. But once destroy the queen--Nóvgorod the Great--and Nóvgorod the Great will perish for ever.'
"'Can ye raise up a city of hewn stone in a hundred years?'
"'Ay, but this is not in the fairy tale, where 'tis done as soon as said. Call together the Hanse traders whom thou hast driven away.'
"'Ha, hucksteress! thou mournest for the traders more than for Nóvgorod itself.'
"'By my huckstering she grew not poor, but rich.'
"'Let me but jingle a piece of money, and straight will fly the merchants from all corners of the world, greedy for my grosches.'
"'Recall the chief citizens whom thou hast exiled to thy towns.'
"'Cheats, knaves, rebels! they are not worth this!'
"'When was power in the wrong? Where is the water of life that can revive those thou hast slain? Even if thou couldst do all this, liberty, liberty would be no more for Nóvgorod, Iván Vassílievitch; and Nóvgorod will never rise again! It may live on awhile like lighted flax, that neither flameth nor goeth out, even as I live in a dungeon!'
"'It is thine inflexible obstinacy that hath ruined both of ye. I should like to have seen how thou wouldst have acted in my place.'
"'Thou hast done thy work, Great Prince of Moscow, I--mine. Triumph not over me, in my dungeon, at my last hour.'
"Márpha Borétzkaia coughed, and her face grew livid; she applied the end of her veil to her lips, but it was instantly stained with blood, and Iván remarked this, though she endeavoured to conceal it.
"'I am sorry for thee, Márpha,' said the Great Prince in a compassionate tone.
"'Sharp is thy glance.... What! doth it delight thee?... Spread this kerchief over Nóvgorod.... 'Twill be a rich pall!'... she added with a smile.