Voice of a Maiden. I fly to thee, beloved one!
Second Maiden. Look upon me! I stretch forth my arms to thee, but have sunk fainting among the ruins; I cannot rise, and have only strength left to turn to thee, beloved!
Third Maiden. I have outstripped them all; through cinders and ashes, flame and smoke, I fly to thee, beloved!
The Man. With long, dishevelled hair far floating on the wind, with snowy bosom panting with wild excitement, she clambers up the smoking ruins to his arms!
The Baptized. Thus is it every night.
Leonard. To me! to me! my bliss, my rapture! Lovely daughter of freedom, thou tremblest with delicious, god-like madness!
Inspiration, flood my soul! Listen to me, all ye people, for now will I prophesy unto you!
The Man. Her head sinks on his bosom; she faints in his arms.
Leonard. Look upon us, ye people! we offer you an image of the human race, freed from trammels, and risen into new life from the death of forms. We stand upon the ruins of old dogmas, of old gods; yea, glory unto us, for we have torn the old gods limb from limb!
They have rotted into dust; our spirits have conquered theirs; their very souls have fallen into the abyss of nothingness!