Rai. (turning away.) There is no path but one
For noble natures.
Pro. Wouldst thou ask the man
Who to the earth hath dash'd a nation's chains,
Rent as with heaven's own lightning, by what means
The glorious end was won?—Go, swell th' acclaim!
Bid the deliverer, hail! and if his path
To that most bright and sovereign destiny
Hath led o'er trampled thousands, be it call'd
A stern necessity, and not a crime!
Rai. Father! my soul yet kindles at the thought
Of nobler lessons, in my boyhood learn'd
Ev'n from thy voice.—The high remembrances
Of other days are stirring in the heart
Where thou didst plant them; and they speak of men
Who needed no vain sophistry to gild
Acts, that would bear heaven's light.—And such be mine!
Oh, father! is it yet too late to draw
The praise and blessing of all valiant hearts
On our most righteous cause?
Pro. What wouldst thou do?
Rai. I would go forth, and rouse th' indignant land
To generous combat. Why should freedom strike
Mantled with darkness?—Is there not more strength
E'en in the waving of her single arm
Than hosts can wield against her?—I would rouse
That spirit, whose fire doth press resistless on
To its proud sphere, the stormy field of fight!
