* * * * *
A public square. Ladies and gentlemen. A Philosophe. The Man.
PHILOSOPHE. I repeat to you, that it is my irresistible conviction that
the hour has come for the emancipation of negroes and women.
THE MAN. I agree with you fully.
PHILOSOPHE. And as a change so great in the constitution of society,
both in general and particular, stands so immediately before us, I
deduce from such a revolution the complete destruction of old forms and
formulas, and the regeneration of the whole human family.
THE MAN. Do you really think so?
PHILOSOPHE. Just as our earth, by a sudden change in the inclination of
its axis, might rotate more obliquely ...
THE MAN. Do you see this hollow tree?
PHILOSOPHE. With tufts of new leaves sprouting forth from the lower
branches?
THE MAN. Yes. How much longer do you think it can continue to stand?
PHILOSOPHE. I cannot tell; perhaps a year or two longer.
THE MAN. Its roots are rapidly rotting out, and yet it still puts forth
a few green leaves.
PHILOSOPHE. What inference do you deduce from that?
THE MAN. Nothing--only that it is rotting out in spite of its few green
leaves; falling daily into dust and ashes; and that it will not bear the
tool of the moulder!
And yet it is your type, the type of your followers, of your theories,
of the times in which we live....
They pass on out of sight.
* * * * *
A mountain pass.
THE MAN. I have labored many years to discover the final results of
knowledge, pleasure, thought, passion, and have only succeeded in
finding a deep and empty grave in my own heart!
I have indeed learned to know most things by their names--the feelings,
for example; but I _feel_ nothing, neither desires, faith, nor love. Two
dim forebodings alone stir in the desert of my soul--the one, that my
son is hopelessly blind; the other, that the society in which I have
grown up is in the pangs of dissolution; I suffer as God enjoys, in
myself only, and for myself alone....
VOICE OF THE GUARDIAN ANGEL. Love the sick, the hungry, the wretched!
Love thy neighbor, thy poor neighbor, as thyself, and thou shalt be
redeemed!
THE MAN. Who speaks?
MEPHISTOPHILES. Your humble servant. I often astonish travellers by my
marvellous natural gifts: I am a ventriloquist.
THE MAN. I have certainly seen a face like that before in an engraving.
MEPHISTOPHILES (_aside_). The count has truly a good memory.
THE MAN. Blessed be Christ Jesus!
MEPHISTOPHILES. Forever and ever, amen!--(_Muttering as he disappears
behind a rock_:) Curses on thee, and thy stupidity!
THE MAN. My poor son! through the sins of thy father and the madness of
thy mother, thou art doomed to perpetual darkness--blind! Living only in
dreams and visions, thou art never destined to attain maturity! Thou art
but the shadow of a passing angel, flitting rapidly over the earth, and
melting into the infinite of ...
Ha! what an immense eagle that is fluttering just there where the
stranger disappeared behind the rocks!
THE EAGLE. Hail! I greet thee! hail!
THE MAN. He is as black as night; he flies nearer; the whirring of his
vast wings stirs me like the whistling hail of bullets in the fight.
THE EAGLE. Draw the sword of thy fathers, and combat for their power,
their fame!
THE MAN. His wide wings spread above me; he gazes into my eyes with the
charm of the rattlesnake--Ha! I understand thee!
THE EAGLE. Despair not! Yield not now, nor ever! Thy enemies, thy
miserable enemies, will fall to dust before thee!
THE MAN. Going?... Farewell, then, among the rocks, behind which thou
vanishest!... Whatever thou mayst be, delusion or truth, victory or
ruin, I trust in thee, herald of fame, harbinger of glory!
Spirit of the mighty Past, come to my aid! and even if thou hast already
returned to the bosom of God, quit it--and come to me! Inspire me with
the ancient heroism! Become in me, force, thought, action!
Stooping to the ground, he turns up and throws aside a viper.
Curses upon thee, loathsome reptile! Even as thou diest, crushed and
writhing, and nature breathes no sigh for thy fate, so will the
destroyers of the Past perish in the abyss of nothingness, leaving no
trace, and awakening no regret.
None of the countless clouds of heaven will pause one moment in their
flight to look upon the thronging hosts of men now gathering to kill and
slaughter!