And then suddenly I felt some one seize me by the shoulder and shake me, and heard a gruff voice say: “Here! Here! What's the matter with you?” And I stared, half-dazed. It was a big policeman, and around me I saw a sea of staring faces, wild-eyed children, women gazing in fright, boys jeering; and the windows were filled with yet another crowd! “What's the matter with you?” demanded the policeman again. “Are you drunk, or crazy!” And then I realized. But the fire was still blazing in me, and a wild rage whirled over me. “Then it is by this that I am to be stopped!” I gasped. “By _this_! It is not possible after all, it seems; and I'm to be dragged back after all!--By Heaven, we'll see!” And so I gave the cry again--the cry of the Valkyrs that is madness to me! Do you not hear it?--and I was away again and free! What does a man want for his soul, if it be not just to strive, and to be resisted, and still to strive? What difference makes anything else--time, place or conditions? I was myself again--and what else did I care about? I felt the policeman take me by the collar and march me down the street; but I hardly knew that--I was on the mountains, and I laughed and sang. The very hatefulness of what was about me was my desperation--I would make head against such things or I would die in the attempt! I would be free!--I would live! I would live my life; and not the life of these people about me! I would fight and win, I would hold fast my heart, I would be true though the heavens fell! I would have it out, then and there, as I said--I would not come back to earth until I was master of myself. And so when I stood in the station-house and the sergeant asked me my name, I said: “Desire is my name, and the soul is my home!” And then because they shook me and worried me, I stretched forth my arms and cried out: “O God, my Father--thou who art my help and my life--thou soul of my soul--shall I go back for these things?--Shall I fear for these things? No, no--while I have life I will not! I will live for the truth, I will be crushed no longer!” They led me to a cell, and when I heard the door shut I laughed like a madman for joy. And then--ah, then--who can tell it? They came--all my angels and all my demons! All my muses and all my nymphs! And the bases of the earth rocked and the heavens danced and sang; and I mounted on the wings of the ages, and saw the joys of the systems and the dancing of the young suns. Until I could bear it no more, and fell down and sobbed, and cried out to my soul that it was enough, enough! * * * * * And afterward I sat there on the stone floor, and ate bread and water and ambrosial peace; and a doctor came in to see me, and asked me who I was. And I laughed--oh, who ever laughed like that? And I said, _“I am the author of The Captive!”_