t what? At you, at
himself, at everything! What is his laugh? Your crime and his torment!
That crime he flings at your head! That punishment he spits in your
face! I laugh, and that means I weep!"

He paused. There was less noise. The laughter continued, but it was more
subdued. He may have fancied that he had regained a certain amount of
attention. He breathed again, and resumed,--

"This laugh which is on my face a king placed there. This laugh
expresses the desolation of mankind. This laugh means hate, enforced
silence, rage, despair. This laugh is the production of torture. This
laugh is a forced laugh. If Satan were marked with this laugh, it would
convict God. But the Eternal is not like them that perish. Being
absolute, he is just; and God hates the acts of kings. Oh! you take me
for an exception; but I am a symbol. Oh, all-powerful men, fools that
you are! open your eyes. I am the incarnation of All. I represent
humanity, such as its masters have made it. Mankind is mutilated. That
which has been done to me has been done to it. In it have been deformed
right, justice, truth, reason, intelligence, as eyes, nostrils, and ears
have been deformed in me; its heart has been made a sink of passion and
pain, like mine, and, like mine, its features have been hidden in a mask
of joy. Where God had placed his finger, the king set his sign-manual.
Monstrous superposition! Bishops, peers, and princes, the people is a
sea of suffering, smiling on the surface. My lords, I tell you that the
people are as I am. To-day you oppress them; to-day you hoot at me. But
the future is the ominous thaw, in which that which was as stone shall
become wave. The appearance of solidity melts into liquid. A crack in
the ice, and all is over. There will come an hour when convulsion shall
break down your oppression; when an angry roar will reply to your jeers.
Nay, that hour did come! Thou wert of it, O my father! That hour of God
did come, and was called the Republic! It was destroyed, but it will
return. Meanwhile, remember that the line of kings armed with the sword
was broken by Cromwell, armed with the axe. Tremble! Incorruptible
solutions are at hand: the talons which were cut are growing again; the
tongues which were torn out are floating away, they are turning to
tongues of fire, and, scattered by the breath of darkness, are shouting
through infinity; those who hunger are showing their idle teeth; false
heavens, built over real hells, ar