Cath. Dead—and a curse on his lips. My Petrusha—dead—and a curse on his lips.
[Two men pick up the body and bear it off right centre, Adrian opening the door. Catherine follows with several women. The other peasants go off silently, street door, leaving only Adrian, Vasil and the revolutionists]
Greg. As I was saying when—the Czar interrupted us—Petrizoff must die. And you will help us, Lavrov. Yes—you must! You say yourself that our best hope lies in sympathy and sentiment——
Adr. Which the bomb utterly destroys.
Greg. Not when the Shepherd throws it. Wait! I do not mean that literally, for this [raising his hand] is the consecrated hand. But your name as our leader would sanctify the deed.
Adr. Your leader?
Greg. Yes. Not only for this, but for our army. Your name is a divine word in every peasant home in Russia. It is cheered by every body of workmen gathered together to-night, and in the army who would not surrender the colors of Romanov to the hero line of Donskoi?
Adr. [Starting] Gregorief——
Greg. Wait! They are all ready now. The peasantry, inspired by the teaching of our martyrs for the last thirty years,—the nobility with awakened conscience,—the workmen, one great body with suspended arms,—the army of the Czar ready to become the army of the people,—all await their leader—you! [A pause] Russia is looking but one way—to freedom. To-day you may lead us to victory almost without blood. Let Petrizoff commit this crime in the name of liberty, and to-morrow we shall be like the scattered limbs of a dissevered body. You will not let this be, Lavrov. You will——