Canzler—If Rome is dead, whence all these harried lands,
Wigmodia and the Phalias, East and West?
Rudolph—There, even to this day, the clay is red.
Canzler—If Rome is dead, what is this thing that now
On hands and knees creeps on us toward the north
Gathering flesh for its bones as it comes?
Hartzel—Most of them have gone over to their Faith.
Canzler—Most of them? Most of them lie, as Wiglaf says,
Piled on the dark shore where the ships come not.
Fritz—Between the ring and sword they chose the sword.
Canzler—What is this thing that says, "Accept this Faith,"
But the same thing that to our fathers said,
"Accept this Law"? It is the same old Rome.
The snake hath cast her skin but not her fangs.
Witness the rivers red. Witness the charred
Track of the dragon and these silent lands.
Has she not gathered flesh? Has she not clothed
Her limbs and filled her bowels with the North?
Climb to the clouds and call the Saxon race
And who will answer? Silence.
Rudolph— And the streams
Moaning and hurrying red waves to the sea.
Canzler—There is a day that would but cannot die.
That day—
Max and Rudolph—At Verden.