The Continental Monthly, Vol 6, No 5, November 1864: Devoted To Literature And National PolicyVarious
History
The Continental Monthly, Vol 6, No 5, November 1864: Devoted To Literature And National Policy
Various
Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; United States -- Politics and government -- 19th century -- Periodicals
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!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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