MICH. Vera, I am not blind; I know your secret. You love this boy, this young prince with his pretty face, his curled hair, his soft white hands. Fool that you are, dupe of a lying tongue, do you know what he would have done to you, this boy you think loved you? He would have made you his mistress, used your body at his pleasure, thrown you away when he was wearied of you; you, the priestess of liberty, the flame of Revolution, the torch of democracy. VERA. What he would have done to me matters little. To the people, at least, he will be true. He loves the people--at least, he loves liberty. PRES. So he would play the citizen-king, would he, while we starve? [23]Would flatter us with sweet speeches, would cheat us with promises like his father, would lie to us as his whole race have lied.[23] MICH. And you whose very name made every despot tremble for his life, you, Vera Sabouroff, you would betray liberty for a lover and the people for a paramour! CONSPS. [24]Traitress! Draw the lots; draw the lots![24] VERA. In thy throat thou liest, Michael! I love him not. He loves me not. MICH. You love him not? Shall he not die then? VERA (_with an effort, clenching her hands_). Ay, it is right that he should die. He hath broken his oath. [25]There should be no crowned man in Europe. Have I not sworn it? To be strong our new Republic should be drunk with the blood of kings. He hath broken his oath. As the father died so let the son die too.[25] Yet not to-night, not to-night. Russia, that hath borne her centuries of wrong, can wait a week for liberty. Give him a week. PRES. We will have none of you! Begone from us to this boy you love. MICH. Though I find him in your arms I shall kill him. CONSPS. To-night! To-night! To-night!