Vera, or the Nihilists
by Oscar Wilde
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, 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! 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. These are the things that keep us from liberty. But now methinks the brood of men is dead and the dull earth grown sick of childbearing, else would no crowned dog pollute God's air by living.
OMNES:
Try us! Try us! Try us!
MICHAEL:
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?
MICHAEL:
[(to PRESIDENT)] Martial law, President! Come, there is no time to be lost. We have twelve hours yet before us till the council meet. Twelve hours! One can overthrow a dynasty in less than that.
PRESIDENT:
Ay! or lose one's own head.
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.
ALEXIS:
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 bright boyish face, you are too young to die yet.
ALEXIS:
One is never too young to die for one's country!
VERA:
Why do you come here night after night?
ALEXIS:
Because I love the people.
VERA:
But your fellow-students must miss you. Are there no traitors among them? You know what spies there are in the University here. O Alexis, you must go! You see how desperate suffering has made us. There is no room here for a nature like yours. You must not come again.
ALEXIS:
Why do you think so poorly of me? Why should I live while my brothers suffer?
VERA:
You spake to me of your mother once. You said you loved her. Oh, think of her!
ALEXIS:
I have no mother now but Russia, my life is hers to take or give away; but to-night I am here to see you. They tell me you are leaving for Novgorod to-morrow.
VERA:
I must. They are getting faint-hearted there, and I would fan the flame of this revolution into such a blaze that the eyes of all kings in Europe shall be blinded. If martial law is passed they will need me all the more there. There is no limit, it seems, to the tyranny of one man; but to the suffering of a whole people there shall be a limit. Too many of us have died on block and barricade: it is their turn to be victims now.
ALEXIS:
God knows it, I am with you. But you must not go. The police are watching every train for you.