_Adr._ Who conquers with a club will rule with a club. It is only through the enduring righteousness now taking deepest root in the night of oppression that true liberation will come, pushing upward to flower in the conscience of every man. When we are free from within, government will of itself fall away---- _Greg._ Anarchy! _Adr._ Yes. Anarchy of the soul, not of the blood. The anarchy that Christ saw when he said the meek shall inherit the earth. This is the vision before me, the vision that I held before the bleeding bodies in Lonz to-day---- _Greg._ To the devil with your visions! Man will always be a worm while he crawls! It is those who have remembered their stature that have done most for the race. And I--from under their feet--with Death's hand upon me--I will remember mine! [_Galovkine, who is watching at the door, steps forward, lifting his hand in signal. Instantly the scene becomes one of merrymaking. A man who sits on shelf above stove begins fiddling, and a peasant dances a clog in the middle of the floor. Orloff enters, followed by two or three guards. Vetrova rises to meet them_] _Vet._ You are welcome. _Orl._ A jolly ending to the day, good people. _Vet._ We've reason to be merry, sir, as you know, who spared my lad this morning. _Cath._ And you too, Petrovich. _Vet._ Eh, but I don't count, mother. _Orl._ 'Tis sporting time with us too. We are on our way to the officers' ball at Yaltowa. A little gayety after the hard work at Petoff. Glad to find you are not making more trouble for us. _Vet._ We've had our lesson, sir. _Orl._ [_Suspiciously_] And this happy meeting is to encourage yourselves in good intentions? _Vet._ Sir, we are true men. [_Vasil suddenly appears in door, rear, waving a paper_] _Vasil._ I have it: The song is ready! _Adr._ [_Looking meaningly at Vasil_] Don't be so sure of your first effort, my boy. Better let it get cold. _Orl._ No, we'll hear it. That paper looks interesting. _Vasil._ Pardon me. [_Folds paper and puts it into his pocket_] _Orl._ I insist upon hearing it. _Vasil._ [_Taking paper out reluctantly_] 'Tis merely a song, sir, and will hardly bear reading. I will sing it for you. [_Unfolds paper slowly_] A Welcome to Summer, friends. 'Tis an old chorus, and you can help me with it. [_Sings_] Come out, come out with me To meet the summer maid! A queen, a queen is she, Whose love is as the sea That would all lands caress, Whose loves are many as the sands, And each a sovereign is, For whom her arms enring Is royal by her kiss, Forevermore a king, a king, a king! Come, dance, dance, dance, and welcome the summer maid! Who has looked into her eyes is nevermore afraid! We will gather our hearts together, we will mingle our feet on the grass, We will hold her with kisses, nor ever, nor ever let her pass! [_The peasants join in chorus_]