Into the deep recesses of his being goes the cry--for all that he has--for all that he is! For every ounce of his strength, for every throb of his will, for every vision, every truth that he knows! To bear this, to save him here! And so he wrestles, so he rises, so he gropes and gasps; and in the moment of his fiercest straining, with the throb of all his being he bursts the barrier, he rends the veil; and infinite passion rolls in in floods upon him, he clutches all existence in his arms; and from his lips there bursts a mad frenzied shout of rapture--that makes his torturers stand transfixed, listening, trembling with terror. And so they drag him back to his dungeon; and there, unable to move, he lies upon the stones and pants out his ecstasy and his life. That is The Captive. * * * * * April 29th. What counts in this thing is momentum--spiritual momentum. You are filled with it all the time, it never leaves you; it drives behind you like a gale of wind; it roars in your ears when you are awake, it rocks you to sleep when you are weary; whenever you are dull or do not heed it, it nags at you, it goads you, it beats into your face. Each day it is more, each day it is harder, more unattainable; but only do not stop, it carries you with it like a wave; you mount upon each day's achievement to reach the next, you move with the power of all the days before. It is momentum that counts. Do not stop!--I cry it all day--Do not stop! * * * * * April 30th. It is weak of me, but sometimes I can not help but look ahead--and think that it is done! I could not find any words to tell the joy that that will be to me--to be free, after so long--to be free! I do not care anything about the fame--it would not be anything to me to be a great author. If it could be done, nothing would please me better than to publish it anonymously--to let no one ever know that it was mine. If I could only have the little that I need to be free, I would publish all that I might ever write anonymously. Yes, that is the thing that makes my blood bound. To be free! Let it only be done--let it only be real, as it will be--and the naked force of it will shake men to the depths of their souls. I could not write it, if I did not believe that I was writing words that would grip the soul of any man--I care not how dull or how coarse he might be. * * * * * I finished the first act just now. * * * * * May 1st. I am wild to-day. Oh, how can I bear this--why should I have to contend with such things as this! Is it not hard enough--the agony that I have to bear, the task that takes all my strength and more? And must I be torn to pieces by such hideous degradation as this? Oh, my God, if my life is not soon clear of these things I shall die! * * * * *