JEREM. But we who are the people-we should hold

All their great stores of money in our hands!

TOBIAS. -Yes-and not have to work. (Drinks). Now for your-hic!

DR. KOв.-My plan is this.

Voices. For killing——

DR. KOB.-Why, of course.

BARON D.-But the great fame of such a regicide

Will crown us all!-those who agree-look on-
Guide, and applaud the striker of the blow,
As well as him who strikes.

TOBIAS. -But possibly

You'll show your skill?

BARON D.-I! No-we must not rob

LUCAS.

The doctor of his patient; but we shall all
Share his renown in history.

-My blade

Is ready; bill-hook, sword, short knife or pike?
And, by my own red heart, I think a pike
Would best reach to the mark, whether he ride
Or drive. I'll do the deed forthwith.

OTTO (moodily).—Not you.

DR. KOB.-No, no-some court-slave would avert a thrust.
I have devised the means; and have well practised
For certain aim. A front room I've secured,
Some weeks past, in the avenue thro' which
The despot oft is driven.

DR. KOB.-A single bullet might, but I will send
A dozen at one shot; and yet again

Another volley, screen'd by the window blind.

Voices (applauding).-Schön!

OTTO.

JEREM.

And I feel almost as sure of this
As I myself had done it.

-Your escape▬▬

Have you arranged ?——

DR. KOB.-I have not, and I scorn it!

Voices.
TOBIAS.

This death shall be the glory of my life,
Which I will close in crownéd martyrdom,
As vengeance for my long-neglected claims,
And retribution for the rights denied
Of many a man,-and several who are here.
-Mine! mine!

We'll roast the phoenix like a goose,

Drinking (drinks) perdition to his son and heir! BARON D.-All Europe will grow fat on this :-our name

OTTO.

LUCAS.

Will burst from every mouth throughout the world!
-Why should your name be mention'd? Have not I
A hundred times held forth about this act?
-There have been many talkers, but the deed
I'll thoroughly do-

DR. KOB.-If that my aim should fail !—

But I'll send home two volleys that shall need
No further aid from heaven.

FRANZ. Or a better place!

TOBIAS.

HANS.

TOBIAS.

-One is as good as another, so he leave us-
Hic! leave us a butt of lager—
-Silence, sot!

The doctor is inspired!-

DR. KOB.-Shade of great Brutus !

Hear me, and fill my mind with patriot thoughts
To lighten up my heart like altar-flames!
England's Protector!-Sweden's liberator !
Shades also of heroic sons of France

And Russia!-and the Shades of every land

That brought forth glorious Regicides, now, hear!
Likewise ye Socialistic Democrats,

Hear, and bear witness to the oath I swear,

To slay the tyrant of our fatherland!

(The lamp grows dim-the flame flaps to and fro-then spits, and goes out. The Apparition of Marcus Junius Brutus advances from the distant wall.) BRUTUS.

Invoke not thou my name for such a deed!
Do not profane the record of a blow

O'er which I wept-for which my tears still flow,
Because I loved the man I caused to bleed :

But 'twas for Liberty-not the gross bloom
Of craving self's gall-nurtured pestilent weed,
That flourishes on banks of Stygian gloom,
Exhaling death's despair-and curses for a Tomb.

(The Apparition slowly retires, and disappears. HANS ARBEITSDULDER re-illumes the lamp.)

HANS (to Dr. K.).—What say you to that?

BARON D.-Methinks I have seen a head

As marked as that-perhaps 'twas Julius Cæsar-
On some old coins exhumed from Roman camps.

JEREM (in a whisper).—Where?

Отто.

-'Twas a Ghost from far-off, doubtful days.

(Distant thunder. The lamp trembles, and falls to the floor. The oil blazes up; they extinguish the flame with their coats. The Apparition of Oliver Cromwell, in armour, advances from the distant wall.)

Отто.

CROMWELL.

Ye godless squad of apes in guise of men!

Ye brains that rot in cast-off helms of brass !
Let plague-carts bear ye from the city's ken
To nourish thistles for each honest ass.

To earth!-unpray'd for, save by hangmen's hags,
Who mourn the loss of your sin-tainted rags.

(The Apparition strides back into the darkness.)
-If all these men were living, I would snap
My fingers at their wisdom and best words.
DR. KOB.-But dead, the greater reason we should do so.
We are our country, being her best sons!

Music, as of an anthem, heard in the distance.

appears.)
MAZZINI.

The Spirit of Mazzini

O Patriot Soul-heart-and sword!
Pure spirit of land and of sea!
My country, like heaven, I adored,
As life's hope and last home to me.
But I saw mer with energies strong,

Who thought themselves noble and true,
But they mix'd up the right with the wrong,
And were drunk with base self-love, like you.

(Disappears.)

(4 ghastly light slowly creeps forth. The Apparitions of Ravaillac, Ankarstromm, and the Death-fetch of Dr. Kobold become visible.)

Trio.

Clouded days and fever'd nights

Nursed our hearts' and heads' disease,
Till we saw internal lights!-

Ice that burns and flames that freeze!-
Heard trumpets marshal maddening seas;
And so grew murderous from these!

D3. KOB.-Shade of Myself, thou liest! I ne'er was mad,
Nor was Ravaillac mad, nor Ankarstromm :

HANS.

They were sound-minded Regicides, like me.

And were they, pray, true Social Democrats?

(They vanish.)

(The Apparition of Marat rises through the floor, bearing a drinking-bowl made from a human skull.)

LUCAS. -Here comes a wholesale revolutionist,

Who, like a king, required his slaughter'd thousands.
Listen to him, and you'll get something rich;

His mouth dropt startling jewels-rubies.

JEREM. Rubies!

SHADE OF MARAT.

Fill your bowls! fill your bowls

With a right royal stream!

Here's a bag for their heads and a snare for their souls!
Oh, how I rejoice as I sniff up the steam

Of the new tragic opera known as "Hell's Dream!"

(The Shade of Marat sinks.

(Shades of Russian Regicides appear.)

Chorus.

The men who had millions of fellow-men slaves,
The hand of one man hath oft sent to their graves.
(Shades of Polish Exiles rise.)

Full Chorus.

What throngs, male and female, whom Double-head arraigns
For an eye-wink, are driven to Siberia in chains;

Barefooted and starving to drudge in dark mines,

While the Doom'd One believes that his sun safely shines.

(They all vanish.)

(Other Appari tions rise, bearing swords, knives, headman's axes, and volumes

of history.)
Chorus.

Honor to the axe and block!

Honor to the guillotine!
Charles' and Louis' bloody shirts

Flaunt from flagstaffs on a rock!
Crown'd Traitors finding their deserts
Are the best triumphs Time hath seen.
Semi-Chorus 1st.

Oh, could we bring back Nero!
And of such Fiends a score !
Semi-Chorus 2nd.

Each man would be a hero

Who dragged them to a shore,

Where pity is at zero,

And waves of blazes roar.

Full Chorus.

Wherein to plunge them-never dying,

After the orthodox style;-with pious Dante vying.
(They all descend with ghostly shouts of exultation.)

(OTTO re-establishes the lamp.)

HANS (after a pause).-Were those the Ghosts of Socialists?

DR. KO B.-No doubt.

FRANZ. -And therefore Democrats.

LUCAS.

-And Regicides.

(The flame of the lamp gradually softens to a mild roseate gleam, and the bland Apparition of Robert Owen slowly comes forward.)

SPIRIT OF ROBERT OWEN.

My friends!-let me so call you, for I am friendly
To all men-even irrational men like you-

So utterly lost to sense and a right knowledge
Of social things, that I find greater cause

To be your friend in this your present need.
All that you think-and let me frankly say,

Your whole mind, spring and current of your thoughts-
Are radically wrong, and of no use;

Rather the opposite, since they retard
The natural course of manly Socialism,
Which ye, misunderstanding, quite invert,
Uproot, disorganise, capsize, destroy,

And make both monstrous and ridiculous,

As though mad schoolboys dipped their heads in blood,
And tried to dance feet upwards. Pray be patient,

And bear with me if I offend your ears

By my plain speaking. Some have probably
Been under-educated; or, like the Doctor

Been wrongly educated-first by fools,

Next by themselves. The powerful influence

Of old, unwise, unsocial circumstances

Have ruined you; while, had you turned your minds
To my sound Rational System of Society,
Ye had been valuable citizens of the world,
Scorning the folly of your present ways.

For what are kings but men with troubles crown'd,
Born 'midst the earth's unreasonable paths,
And crazy round of conflicts to no end:

They are but like their fathers, and must be so
Until they change the system of their rule-
As I have pointed out to several kings.
Therefore to kill one is but to bring forth
A younger and more energetic hand
To do what ye denounce. But very soon-
In a few years-'tis certain kings will be
Among my best disciples, and they know it.
One day I said to the Emperor of the Russias,
"You see, Sir, how dissatisfied men are,
And what your dangers are. Your dynasty
Has had more regicides than 'twould be kind
To specify; but all these useless crimes
Will cease at once when royal minds adopt
The Rational Scheme I offer! And the Czar
Smiled as he bent his ear to all my words;
And he express'd himself as sensibly

In his reply as one could well expect
From any man grown up and educated
'Midst circumstances so insane-poor man!
He is not the only King I have convinced!
It is the only way to save their crowns.
Sceptres will point the way to education,

Wherefrom we shall have peace, with wealth and wisdom,
Through our New Social System-O, blest hour!
Therefore, my friends, go to your quiet homes-
Your blades and barrels in your gardens bury;
And write this epitaph above the mound-
"Here rest for ever murderous Folly's tools!"

(The Shade of the Philanthropist softly fades away.)

DE. KOBOLD rises to speak, when a noise outside is heard, and a cry of "Polizei! Polizei!"

(The Regicides all make a dash for a private door, but a struggling jam taking place, several of them escape through a back window.)