The Woman. They honour the dead. (She points to the prone figure on the altar.) The soldiers who saved France.
(A trumpet note is heard and the air rustles with the inclining of a myriad heads. A sweet singing arises behind the altar. A procession slowly passes before it. The first to pass is a man beyond middle age, with a grave, bearded face, a broad white forehead and serene eyes. He kneels for an instant and passes on.)
The Woman. The Philosophy of France. (A young man, with a dark, keen face, and a very penetrating look, follows. Each figure, on arriving before the altar, kneels and passes on.) The Science of France.
(Then follow the Literature of France, an old man, very harmoniously dressed; the Music and Painting of France, two smaller figures; the Statesmanship and Laws of France, superb men, but badly clothed. There follow priests, merchants, scribes, criminals and courtesans. Anthony and his companion begin to soar higher. The music fades; the bowed heads of the people become indistinct. There is a period of darkness, and Anthony finds himself back on his rock. Before him stands The Woman. The great cloud has utterly vanished.)
The Woman. You have seen the greatness of France.
Anthony (thoughtfully). It is a land not without merit.
The Woman. Many have died for it. Many more must die for it, or it will be a stricken land. Is it worth dying for?
Anthony (who has grown more argumentative with the years, hesitates. Then:) That depends! (He faces The Woman with a stern and questioning look.) Much knowledge and beauty lie within the borders of your land, but no man should die for knowledge or beauty. A man’s life belongs to God alone. Do your great ones serve God? Do they use their wisdom more fully to understand His counsels? Do they create beauty to glorify His praise? (The Woman does not answer.) I will die for you if my death serves God. I will not die to extend your borders, to add beauty to your palaces, to make you more skilled in wisdom. Will my death bring you nearer to God?
The Woman (regards Anthony sadly). You ask me hard questions. Are there not many ways of serving God? I worship God in His creation. I meditate on the laws of His universe. I reveal to the world the beauty of His handiwork. Do I not therefore serve God?
Anthony (drily). Does that heresy still flourish? God is not His creation.