The Continental Monthly, Vol. 6, No. 6, December 1864

George. Listen! Ever nearer! ever clearer! One after another they are slowly filing on from the depths of the narrow vaults—they are solemnly seating themselves below, far in the background; behind thee, father!

The Man. Thy madness is my damnation! Thy mind is wandering, my poor child; thou art destroying the strength which I now so sorely need!

George. I see their pale and stately forms as they collect for fearful judgment! I see the prisoner approach the dreadful bar, his tall form seems.... I cannot discern his features—they float and flow like morning mist! Hark!

Chorus of Voices. We, once chained, beaten, tormented, choked with dust and broken with stones, through the Power now given to our hands, proceed in our turn to sentence!

We too will judge and torture; try and condemn; Satan himself will delight to assume the execution of our sentence.

The Man. George, what dost thou see?

George. The prisoner! the prisoner, father! He wring his hands—O father! father!

A Voice. With thee dies out the accursed race; all its power, all its passions, all its pride, have joined in thee to perish!

Chorus of Voices. Because thou hast loved nothing—revered nothing save thyself and thine own thoughts—thou art condemned—art damned to all eternity!

The Man. I see nothing, but I hear from every side—above—below—sighs and wails—judgment, threatening, and eternal doom!

George. The prisoner! he raises his haughty head as thou dost, father, when thou art angered! He answers with proud words, as thou dost, when thou scornest—father!

Chorus of Voices. In vain! thou plead'st in vain! there is no redemption for him more, in earth or heaven!

A Voice. Yet another day of passing earthly glory, of all share in which thine ancestors have robbed me and my brethren—and then thou fallest forever—thou, with thy brethren!

Your burials will be, as once were ours, without the toll of holy knells, without tears, sobs, or wailing mourners, without friends, without relations, and you will die transfixed upon the same rock of universal human pain!

The Man. I know you, wretched ghosts! wandering stars amid the angelic hosts!

He goes forward into the darkness.

George. Father! go not into that fearful gloom! Father! in the name of Jesus Christ—I implore—I conjure thee—father!

The Man (turning toward his son). Whom do you see below? Speak, and tell me truly, George!

George. The prisoner—he is thyself, my father!

He is white as snow—gagged—chained—they drag him on—they torture thee, my father!

I hear thy gasping breath—thy groans—thy sobs! (He falls upon his knees.) Forgive me, father! My mother shines through the dark—and commands me to....

He falls back in a fainting fit.

The Man (catching the falling boy in his arms). This alone was wanting! Ha! my own, my only child has led me to the brink of hell!

Mary—inexorable spirit! God!!

And thou, second Mary, to whom I have so often prayed!

Here then is the beginning of eternal darkness, eternal torture!…

Back! back into life! one day of glory is at least still left me! First must I combat with my fellow men—and then for my eternal struggle!

Chorus of Spirits (dying away in the distance). Because thou hast loved nothing, revered nothing, save thyself and thine own thoughts—thou art, damned to all eternity!

A large hall in the castle of the Holy Trinity; arms and armor hang upon the walls, with various Gothic ornaments. The Man; women, children, some old men, and nobles are kneeling at his feet. The Godfather stands in the centre of the hall, and crowds of men are in the background.

The Man. No, no. By my son—by the memory of my wife—never! never!

Voices of Women. Have mercy upon us! Hunger gnaws our bowels; our children die of famine; fear is upon us day and night; have pity upon us!

Voices of Men. It still is time! Listen to the herald—dismiss not the envoy!

Godfather. I regard not your reproaches, Count Henry, for my whole life has been that of a good citizen.

If I have assumed the office of ambassador, which I am at this moment fulfilling, it is because I understand the age in which we live, and estimate our times aright.

Pancratius is, if I may so express myself, the representative of the people....

The Man. Out of my sight, old man!—(Aside to Jacob.) Bring a detachment of soldiers hither!

Exit Jacob.

The women rise from their knees weeping and sobbing, and the men draw back a few paces.

A Baron.—We are all lost, and through you alone, Count Henry!

Second Baron. We renounce all further obedience.

A Prince. Let us arrange for ourselves the terms of the surrender of this castle with the worthy envoy!

Godfather. The great man who sent me here secures life to you all, if you will enter into a league with him and acknowledge the justice of the struggle of the century.

Many Voices. We acknowledge it.

The Man. You have sworn to me, and I have sworn to you, to die upon these walls; I intend to keep my oath, and you shall be true to yours. You are all to die with me!

Ha! can you indeed still wish to live?

Ha! ask the spirits of your fathers why, when living, they were guilty of such continuous oppression, and why they ruled with so much cruelty!—(To a Count.) Why have you, count, oppressed your serfs?—(To another.) Why have you passed your youth in cards and dice, and your life in the land of the stranger?—(To another.) Why have you crept before the great, and scorned the lowly?-(To one of the women.) Why did you not bring up your sons to defend you? As knights and soldiers, they might then have served you now; but you have preferred dealings with Jews and lawyers: call upon them, then, for life and safety.—(He rises and extends his arms toward them.) Why hasten ye thus to shame? why wrap your last hours in shrouds of infamy?

On with me, ye knights and nobles! On, where bayonets glitter, swift balls whistle!

Oh seek not the accursed gallows prepared for you by the New Men; believe me, the masked and silent hangman stands waiting to throw the rope of shame around your high-born throats!

A Voice. He speaks the truth—to our bayonets!

Another Voice. We die of hunger; there is no more food!