long for you in the vault of St. Ignatius?
The Man. Thank you for your exceeding care of me, Sir Jew! But back! I will return and take another look at the festival of the citizens.
Voices (under the trees). The children of Ham bid good night to thee, old Sun!
Voice (on the right). Here's to thy health, old enemy! Thou hast long driven us on to unpaid work, and awaked us early to unheeded pain! Ha! ha! When thou risest upon us to-morrow, thou wilt find us with fish and flesh: now off to the devil, empty glass!
The Baptized. The bands of peasants are coming this way.
The Man. You shall not leave me. Place yourself behind this tree trunk, and be silent!
Chorus of Peasants. Forward, forward, under the white tents to meet our brethren! Forward, forward, under the green shade of the beeches, to rest, to sleep, to pleasant sunset greetings!
Our maidens there await us; there await us our slaughtered oxen, the old teams of our ploughs!
A Voice. I am pulling and dragging him on with all my strength—now he turns and defends himself—down! down among the dead!
Voice of the Dying Noble. My children, pity! pity!
Second Voice. Chain me to your land and make me work without pay again—will you!
Third Voice. My only son fell under the blows of your lash, old lord; either wake him from the dead, or die to join him!
Fourth Voice. The children of Ham drink thy health, old lord! they beg thee for forgiveness, lord!
Chorus of Peasants (passing on out of sight). A vampire sucked our blood, and lived upon our strength:
We have caught the vampire, he shall escape no more!
By Satan, thou shalt hang as high as a great lord should!
By Satan, thou shalt die high, high above us all!
Death to the nobles; tyrants were they all!
Drink, food, and rest for us; poor, weary, hungry, thirsty, naked!
Your bodies shall lie like sheaves upon our fields; the ruins of your castles fly like chaff beneath the flail of the thresher!
Voice. The children of Ham will dance merrily round their bonfires!
The Man. I cannot see the face of the murdered noble, they throng so thickly round him.
The Baptized. It is in all probability a friend or relation of your excellency!
The Man. I despise him, and hate you!
Poetry will sweeten all this horror hereafter. Forward, Jew, forward!
They disappear among the trees.
Another part of the forest. A mound upon which watchfires are burning. A procession of people bearing torches.
The Man (appearing among them with the Baptized). These drooping branches have torn my liberty cap into tatters.
Ha! what hell of flame is this throwing its crimson light into the gloom, and leaping through these heavily fringed walls of the forest?
The Baptized. We have wandered from our way while seeking the pass of St. Ignatius. We must retrace our steps immediately, for this is the spot in which Leonard celebrates the solemnities of the New Faith!
The Man. Forward, in the name of God! I must see these solemnities. Fear nothing, Jew, no one will recognize us.
The Baptized. Be prudent; our lives hang on a breath!
The Man. What enormous ruins are these scattered around us! This ponderous pile must have lasted centuries before it fell!
Pillars, pedestals, capitals, fallen arches—ha! I am treading upon the broken remnants of an escutcheon. Bas-reliefs of exquisite sculpture are scattered about upon the earth! Heavens! that is the sweet face of the Virgin Mother shining through the heart of the darkness! The light flickers, I can see it no more. Here are the slight-fluted shafts of a shrine, panes of colored glass with cherub heads, a carved railing of bronze, and now, in the light of yonder torch, I see the half of a monumental figure of a reclining knight in armor thrown upon the burnt and withered grass: Where am I, Jew?
The Baptized. You are passing through the graveyard of the last church of the Old Faith; our people labored forty days and forty nights without intermission to destroy it; it seemed built for eternal ages.
The Man. Your songs and hymns, ye new men, grate harshly on my ears!
Dark forms are moving forward in every direction, from before us, behind us, and from either side; lights and shadows, driven to and fro by the wind, float like living spirits through the throng.
A Passer-by. I greet you, citizens, in the name of freedom!
Second Passer-by. I greet you in the name of the slaughter of the nobles!
Third Passer-by. The priests chant the praise of freedom; why do you not hasten forward?
The Baptized. We cannot resist the pressure of the throng; they drive us on from every side.
The Man. Who is this young man standing in front of us, mounted upon the ruins of the shrine? Three flames burn beneath him, his face shines from the midst of fire and smoke, his voice rings like the shriek of a maniac; and his gestures are rapid and eager?
The Baptized. That is Leonard, the inspired and enthusiastic prophet of freedom. Our priests, our philosophers, our poets, our artists, with their daughters and loved ones, are standing round him.
The Man. Ha, I understand; your aristocracy! Point out to me the man who sent you to seek an interview with me.
The Baptized. He is not here.
Leonard. Fly to my arms; cling to my lips; come to me, my beautiful bride! Independent, free, stripped of the veils of hypocrisy, full of love, untrammelled from the chilling fetters of prejudice, come to me, thou chosen one of the lovely daughters of freedom!
Voice of a Maiden. I fly to thee, beloved one!
Second Maiden. Look upon me! I stretch forth my arms to thee, but have sunk fainting among the ruins; I cannot rise, and have only strength left to turn to thee, beloved!
Third Maiden. I have outstripped them all; through cinders and ashes, flame and smoke, I fly to thee, beloved!
The Man. With long, dishevelled hair far floating on the wind, with snowy bosom panting with wild excitement, she clambers up the smoking ruins to his arms!
The Baptized. Thus is it every night.
Leonard. To me! to me! my bliss, my rapture! Lovely daughter of freedom, thou tremblest with delicious, god-like madness!
Inspiration, flood my soul! Listen to me, all ye people, for now will I prophesy unto you!
The Man. Her head sinks on his bosom; she faints in his arms.
Leonard. Look upon us, ye people! we offer you an image of the human race, freed from trammels, and risen into new life from the
