Pres. We can suffer at least.
Vera. We have done that too much already. The hour is now come to annihilate and to revenge.
Pres. Up to this the people have borne everything.
Vera. Because they have understood nothing. But now we, the Nihilists, have given them the tree of knowledge to eat of and the day of silent suffering is over for Russia.
Mich. Martial law, Vera! This is fearful tidings you bring.
Pres. It is the death warrant of liberty in Russia.
Vera. Or the tocsin of[10] revolution.
Mich. Are you sure it is true?
Vera. Here is the proclamation. I stole it myself at the ball to-night from a young fool, one of Prince Paul's secretaries, who had been given it to copy. It was that which made me so late.
(Vera hands proclamation to Michael, who reads it.)