The Continental Monthly, Vol 6, No 5, November 1864. Various
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Man. Your songs and hymns, ye new men, grate harshly on my ears!
Dark forms are moving forward in every direction, from before us, behind us, and from either side; lights and shadows, driven to and fro by the wind, float like living spirits through the throng.
A Passer-by. I greet you, citizens, in the name of freedom!
Second Passer-by. I greet you in the name of the slaughter of the nobles!
Third Passer-by. The priests chant the praise of freedom; why do you not hasten forward?
The Baptized. We cannot resist the pressure of the throng; they drive us on from every side.
The Man. Who is this young man standing in front of us, mounted upon the ruins of the shrine? Three flames burn beneath him, his face shines from the midst of fire and smoke, his voice rings like the shriek of a maniac; and his gestures are rapid and eager?
The Baptized. That is Leonard, the inspired and enthusiastic prophet of freedom. Our priests, our philosophers, our poets, our artists, with their daughters and loved ones, are standing round him.
The Man. Ha, I understand; your aristocracy! Point out to me the man who sent you to seek an interview with me.
The Baptized. He is not here.
Leonard. Fly to my arms; cling to my lips; come to me, my beautiful bride! Independent, free, stripped of the veils of hypocrisy, full of love, untrammelled from the chilling fetters of prejudice, come to me, thou chosen one of the lovely daughters of freedom!
Voice of a Maiden. I fly to thee, beloved one!
Second Maiden. Look upon me! I stretch forth my arms to thee, but have sunk fainting among the ruins; I cannot rise, and have only strength left to turn to thee, beloved!
Third Maiden. I have outstripped them all; through cinders and ashes, flame and smoke, I fly to thee, beloved!
The Man. With long, dishevelled hair far floating on the wind, with snowy bosom panting with wild excitement, she clambers up the smoking ruins to his arms!
The Baptized. Thus is it every night.
Leonard. To me! to me! my bliss, my rapture! Lovely daughter of freedom, thou tremblest with delicious, god-like madness!
Inspiration, flood my soul! Listen to me, all ye people, for now will I prophesy unto you!
The Man. Her head sinks on his bosom; she faints in his arms.
Leonard. Look upon us, ye people! we offer you an image of the human race, freed from trammels, and risen into new life from the death of forms. We stand upon the ruins of old dogmas, of old gods; yea, glory unto us, for we have torn the old gods limb from limb!
They have rotted into dust; our spirits have conquered theirs; their very souls have fallen into the abyss of nothingness!
Chorus of Women. Happy among women is the bride of the prophet: we stand below and envy her glory!
Leonard. I announce to you a new world; to a new god I have given the heavens; to the god of freedom and of bliss, the god of the people; every offering of their vengeance, the piled corpses of their oppressors, be his fitting altar! The old tears and agonies of humanity will be forever swept away in an ocean of blood!
We now inaugurate the perpetual happiness of men; freedom and equality belong of right to all!
Damnation and the gallows to him who would reorganize the Past; to him who would conspire against the common fraternity!
Chorus of Men. The towers of superstition, of tyranny, of pride, have fallen, have fallen! To him who would save one stone from the old buildings—damnation and death!
The Baptized (aside). Ye blasphemers of Jehovah, I thrice spew you forth to destruction!
The Man. Keep but thy promise, Eagle, and I will build on this very spot and upon their bowed necks a new temple to the Son of God, the Merciful!
A Confused cry from mingling Voices. Freedom! Equality! Bliss! Hurrah! hurrah!
Chorus of the New Priests. Where are the lords, where are the kings, who lately walked the earth with crown and sceptre, ruled with pride and scorn?
First Murderer. I killed King Alexander.
Second Murderer. I stabbed King Henry.
Third Murderer. I murdered King Immanuel!
Leonard. Go on without fear; murder without a sting of conscience!
Remember that you are the Elect of the Elect; the Holy among the Holy; the brave heroes and blessed martyrs of equality and freedom!
Chorus of Murderers. We go in the darkness of night; we move in the gloom of the shadow! With the dagger firmly clutched in our unsparing hands, we go, we go!
Leonard (to the Maiden). Arouse thee, my beautiful and free!
A loud clap of thunder is heard.
Reply to the living god of thunder: raise high the hymn of strength! Follow me all, all! Let us once more trample under our feet the ruined temple of the dead God!
The Maiden. I glow with love to thee and to thy god! I will share my love with the whole world: I glow! I glow!
The Man. Some one blocks the way; he falls upon his knees, raises his joined hands, struggles, sighs, sobs....
The Baptized. He is the son of a famous philosopher.
Leonard. What do you demand, Herman?
Herman. High priest, give me the Sacrament of Murder!
Leonard (to the Priests). Give me the oil, the dagger, and the poison!—(To Herman.) With the sacred oil once used to anoint kings, I now anoint thee to their destruction!
The arm once used by knights and nobles, I give thee now for their destruction!
I hang upon thy breast this flask of poison, that where the sword cannot reach, it may gnaw, corrode, and burn the bowels of the tyrants!
Go, and destroy the old race in all parts of the world!
The Man. He is gone! I see him, at the head of a band of assassins, crossing the crest of the nearest hill.
The Baptized. They turn, they approach us, we must move out of their way!
The Man. No. I will dream this dream to its end!
The Baptized (aside). I thrice spew thee forth to destruction!—(To the Man). Leonard might recognize me, your excellency. Do you not see the knife glittering upon his breast?
The Man. Wrap yourself up in my cloak. What ladies are those dancing before him you call Leonard?
The Baptized. Princesses and countesses who have forsaken their husbands.
The Man. Once my angels!!
The people now surround him on every side, I can see him no longer, I only know by the retreating music that he is going farther from us. Follow me, Jew, we can see him better up here!
He clambers up the parapet of a wall.
The Baptized. Woe! woe! We will certainly be discovered.
The Man. There, now I can see him again! Ha! other women are with him now, pale, confused, trembling, following him convulsively; the son of the philosopher foams and brandishes his dagger; they are stopping by the ruins of the North Tower.
They remain standing for a moment, they climb upon the ruins, they tear them down, they pull the shrine apart, they throw coals upon the prostrate altars, the votive wreaths, the holy pictures; the fire kindles, columns of smoke darken all before me: Woe to the destroyers! Woe!
Leonard. Woe to the men who still bow down before the dead God!
The Man. Dark masses of the people turn and drive upon us.
The Baptized. O Father Abraham!
The Man. Old Eagle of glory, is it not true that my hour is not yet come?
The Baptized. We are lost!
Leonard