_The Pride of Victory._ On the morrow of that day I issued an article,[8] which made an impression also among some friends, and which was entitled, “The Return of the Triumphant Beast.” In it was said: “We are ready to dig trenches in the squares of Italy and set up barbed wire, in order to win and fight to the last against the enemy.” And the sabotage, begun with that parade, lasted all the summer. Footnote 8: _Popolo d’Italia_, 17th Feb. 1919. Also, in those days, we Fascisti had the courage to defend certain actions which, measured by the standard of current morals, perhaps were indefensible. But, gentlemen, war is like revolution, it must be taken as a whole; detail cannot and must not be gone into. But, meanwhile, the campaign had its results upon the elections. One million eight hundred and fifty thousand electors registered their vote with the symbol of the sickle and the hammer. One hundred and fifty-six deputies were returned to the Chamber. The catastrophe seemed imminent. Then I was fished out, a suicide(!) of the waters—not by any means too limpid—of the old Naviglio! But one thing had been forgotten—our tenacious spirit and sometimes indomitable will. I, proud of my four thousand votes—and those who saw me in those days know how immovably I accepted that electoral response—said, “The battle goes on!” Because I firmly believed that the day would come in which the Italians would be ashamed of the elections of 16th November, that the day would come in which the Italians would no longer elect in two cities that ignoble deserter whom I do not wish to name. And it has proved true, because this man to-day, not being able to maintain his part in the drama, has descended from the stage and, having despised the Guardie Regie, now asks them for protection. But has the growth of this movement of Fascismo, this young ardent and heroic movement, finished yet? I, who vindicate the paternity of this, my creature so overflowing with life, feel sometimes that it has already overstepped the modest boundaries I laid down for it. Now we Fascisti have a clear programme; we must move on led by a pillar of fire, because we are slandered and not understood. And, however much violence may be deplored, it is evident that we, in order to make our ideas understood, must beat refractory skulls with resounding blows. _Necessary Violence._ But we do not make a school, a system or, worse still, an æsthetic of violence. We are violent when it is necessary to be so. But I tell you at once that this necessary violence on the part of the Fascisti must have a character and style of its own, definitely aristocratic, or, if you prefer, surgical.