Olga
this Olga, still under the fascination of the new fellowship, and in the indignation excited by the Czar's last act, goes masked.
SCENE
THE PALACE AND THE BALL
Czar, Olga, Others
Olga. Sweet Czar, I fain would have a word with thee.
Give me thy hand.
Czar.Tis thine. Thou tremblest.
Olga.Oh!
For five long years I have sighed for such a moment.
And yet I knew, I knew, through all those years,
That I should stand, as now, thy hand in mine.
Czar. Speakst thou of years? And yet I know thee young
By the clear thrill of that fresh voice, and fair
I guess thee by thy grace,
Olga.When first thine image
Began to haunt me, Mighty Czar, I had
But fifteen years.
Czar.And hast thou loved me, then,
From fifteen years?
Give me thy hand.
Czar.Tis thine. Thou tremblest.
Olga.Oh!
For five long years I have sighed for such a moment.
And yet I knew, I knew, through all those years,
That I should stand, as now, thy hand in mine.
Czar. Speakst thou of years? And yet I know thee young
By the clear thrill of that fresh voice, and fair
I guess thee by thy grace,
Olga.When first thine image
Began to haunt me, Mighty Czar, I had
But fifteen years.
Czar.And hast thou loved me, then,
From fifteen years?
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