Ig. Just from the capital.
Jua. Where you must back again. Rafael, too!
Both my young soldiers! My right arm and my left,—
Though which is which I know not. Ignacio,
You saw the Austrian? No matter. He ’s but
The drift-piece of a rotten monarchy
That thinks to graft upon the living tree
Of our new-sprung republic! We ’ll shake him off
As a June oak a spray of winter wreck,
Nor ever know he clung upon our boughs!
Ig. The church is powerful yet, and seeks to join
Her cause with his.
Jua. The church? Say not the church,
But mockers in Christ’s name, who steal the land
And drain its fruitage into Satan’s purse,
Keeping the poor a race of hopeless slaves
Who worship their own shackles! O, Ignorance,
Thou art the great slave-master! Thy very chains
Are vital and beget themselves; and he
Who strikes them seems the monster of the earth
To the poor serf who thinks it is himself
That bleeds! The church be with our foe, with us
Be God, we ’ll ask no more. Hear me, my men!
The great republic of the North ’s our friend.
When her own war is done you ’ll hear her speak
To France in cannon tones that will make quake
Napoleon on his throne! That great mock-god.
Who seeks to free all men that he may fit
Their necks to his own yoke! (With growing intensity) That adder who
Would coil about the world! That serpent scruffed
With white deceit and low ambition’s slime,
That crept into the garden of my dream
And cankered bud and root, nursed by my toil,
Fed with my dearest blood! Ay, he will quake,
And cry for mercy to a stony Heaven
Whose pity drops long since were drained upon
The woe that he hath made! Ay, he—
Trev. (Touching him) But now,
My friend?
Jua. (Composed) You’re right. No more of that. Nephew!
Ig. Here, sir!
Jua. Your place will be the capital.
We must have eyes there, and a heart to serve us.
This hour set out. Here are instructions. (Gives papers)
Trev. Sir,
He ’s had no rest.
Jua. True ... true....