VERA. Here is the proclamation. I stole it myself at the ball to-night from a young fool, one of Prince Paul's secretaries, who had been given it to copy. It was that which made me so late. (_VERA hands proclamation to MICHAEL, who reads it._) MICH. "To ensure the public safety--martial law. By order of the Czar, father of his people." The father of his people! VERA. Ay! a father whose name shall not be hallowed, whose kingdom shall change to a republic, whose trespasses shall not be forgiven him, because he has robbed us of our daily bread; with whom is neither might, nor right, nor glory, now or for ever. PRES. It must be about this that the council meet to-morrow. It has not yet been signed. ALEX. It shall not be while I have a tongue to plead with. MICH. Or while I have hands to smite with. VERA. Martial law! O God, how easy it is for a king to kill his people by thousands, but we cannot rid ourselves of one crowned man in Europe! What is there of awful majesty in these men which makes the hand unsteady, the dagger treacherous, the pistol-shot harmless? Are they not men of like passions with ourselves, vulnerable to the same diseases, of flesh and blood not different from our own? What made Olgiati tremble at the supreme crisis of that Roman life, [11]and Guido's nerve fail him when he should have been of iron and of steel? A plague, I say, on these fools of Naples, Berlin, and Spain![11] Methinks that if I stood face to face with one of the crowned men my eye would see more clearly, my aim be more sure, my whole body gain a strength and power that was not my own! Oh, to think what stands between us and freedom in Europe! a few old men, wrinkled, feeble, tottering dotards whom a boy could strangle for a ducat, or a woman stab in a night-time. And these are the things that keep us from democracy, that keep us from liberty. But now methinks the brood of men is dead and the dull earth grown sick of child-bearing, else would no crowned dog pollute God's air by living. OMNES. Try us! Try us! Try us! MICH. We shall try thee, too, some day, Vera. VERA. I pray God thou mayest! Have I not strangled whatever nature is in me, and shall I not keep my oath? MICH. (_to PRESIDENT_). Martial law, President! Come, there is no time to be lost. We have twelve hours yet before us till the council meet. [12]Twelve hours! One can overthrow a dynasty in less time than that.[12] PRES. [13]Ay! or lose one's own head.[13] (_MICHAEL and the PRESIDENT retire to one corner of the stage and sit whispering. VERA takes up the proclamation, and reads it to herself; ALEXIS watches and suddenly rushes up to her._) ALEX. Vera! VERA. Alexis, you here! Foolish boy, have I not prayed you to stay away? All of us here are doomed to die before our time, fated to expiate by suffering whatever good we do; but you, with your [14]bright boyish face,[14] you are too young to die yet. ALEX. One is never too young to die for one's country!