ROBESPIERRE [_with a friendly smile_]. No, Citizen Duplay. [_He

offers her his hand._]

MADAME DUPLAY. Always working! You never went to bed last night!

ROBESPIERRE. I was at the Committee.

MADAME DUPLAY. I heard you come in. It was after three. Couldn't

you rest this morning?

ROBESPIERRE. You know I never sleep very much; I have trained my

body to obey my head.

MADAME DUPLAY. You promised me you wouldn't sit up any more.

You're wearing yourself out; you'll get sick. And then what

would become of us?

ROBESPIERRE. My poor friends, you must get used to doing without

me. I shan't always be here, you know.

MADAME DUPLAY. You aren't thinking of leaving us?

ROBESPIERRE [_with sincerity and emphasis_]. No, but I shall

leave sooner than you expect.

MADAME DUPLAY. Oh, no; I insist on being the first to leave, and

I am in no hurry.

ROBESPIERRE [_with a smile_]. I should feel easier if I knew

others were not so dependent on me.

MADAME DUPLAY. Don't you care to have people like you?

ROBESPIERRE. France would be better off if every one thought

less of Robespierre and more of Liberty.

MADAME DUPLAY. But Liberty and Robespierre are one.

ROBESPIERRE. That is why I am so concerned about her. I fear for

her health.

MADAME DUPLAY [_going to the window_]. What noise they make in

the court! I know it must tire you. I told Duplay twenty times

to ask them not to begin so early and wake you up, but he said

you insisted that everything go on as usual.

ROBESPIERRE. He is right. That regular activity rests me. Work

is beneficial to others as well as to oneself. The noise is

refreshing to me. I have breathed such vitiated air all night!

MADAME DUPLAY. What work kept you up last night?

ROBESPIERRE. It was not the work, but the worry.

MADAME DUPLAY. You seem preoccupied--as if some great

catastrophe were about to happen.

ROBESPIERRE. Yes, a catastrophe.

MADAME DUPLAY. Can't you prevent it?

ROBESPIERRE. Oh, I must bring it about, on the contrary.

MADAME DUPLAY. Of course, I have no right to ask questions, but

you mustn't be sad today. We're having a festival. Le Bas and

Saint-Just came back from the army last night.

ROBESPIERRE. Saint-Just returned! Good: I need him.

MADAME DUPLAY. And I forgot to tell you: a general came here and

wanted to see you, General Westermann. He came before sunrise,

but I wouldn't let him in. He said he would come back in an

hour. Will you receive him?

ROBESPIERRE. I don't know.

MADAME DUPLAY. He waited a long time in the yard--in the rain.

ROBESPIERRE. Very well.

MADAME DUPLAY. What an awful night! I came in soaked to the skin.

ROBESPIERRE. Where were you?

MADAME DUPLAY. At the Markets. I was waiting in line since

midnight. They were pushing so! You had to keep your eyes open,

or some one would take your place! The moment they opened, every

one began to fight. I stood up for my rights, and I finally got

three eggs and a quarter pound of butter.

ROBESPIERRE. Three eggs for this household? Why, that's nothing

at all!

MADAME DUPLAY. One for Eléonore, one for Elisabeth, and one for

you--my three children!

ROBESPIERRE. Dear mother Duplay, you don't imagine I shall take

bread out of your mouth?

MADAME DUPLAY. You're not going to refuse! It was for you I went

to the Market. You're not well; you have a weak stomach. If you

could only eat meat! But you won't let us buy any!

ROBESPIERRE. Meat is very scarce, and it must be kept for

the soldiers and the sick. We have decreed a civil lent. My

colleagues and I must offer a good example of abstinence.

MADAME DUPLAY. Not everybody has your scruples.

ROBESPIERRE. I know: I have seen some of them indulge in

feasting amidst all this misery; it horrifies me. Every feast of

that kind deprives the country of at least thirty defenders.

MADAME DUPLAY. What misery! No more meat, no more poultry, no

more dairy products. The vegetables have been commandeered for

the army. And no more fuel. This is the second night that Duplay

has stood in line at the coal boat. He's just come in--without a

thing. And there is no wood at all. Do you know what they asked

me for a cord? Four hundred francs. Fortunately spring is not

far off. Another month of this, and we'll all be dead. I never

remember so hard a winter!

ROBESPIERRE. You have suffered, all of you, poor women, and you

have shown splendid courage. But you must admit that with all

the suffering, you felt joys you never dreamed of before: the

joy of helping on, no matter how humbly, with the sublime work

of freeing the world!

MADAME DUPLAY. Yes, I am happy. No matter what happens, those

months of misery will remain the happiest of our lives. What we

have suffered are not the ordinary things, the useless things.

Every time we fasted it was for the good of the nation. This

feeling of pride we owe to you, Maximilien. Last night I was

thinking as I was doing the wash; no matter how humble I am, no

matter how I may worry about the morrow, and wonder where our

bread is coming from, I am working for the nation; nothing is

lost; every thing I do counts toward victory. I am marching with

you at the head of all mankind!

THE WORKINGMEN [_outside, singing_]:

"We forge and saw with all our might

Making muskets for the fight.

Soldier boys, you'll have enough

If we have to work all day and night,

For we forge and saw with all our might."

MADAME DUPLAY [_smiling_]. They've just filled an order for the

Northern Army; they're starving to death, but they're happy.

ROBESPIERRE. Sublime people! How good it is to be one of them!

Who could forgive those who try to corrupt that source of

abnegation and sacrifice? [WESTERMANN _is heard muttering

outside_.]

MADAME DUPLAY. There's the General. He's getting impatient.

ROBESPIERRE. Send him in. [MADAME DUPLAY _goes out._ ROBESPIERRE

_looks into his mirror. In an instant, his face is transformed;

becoming hard, immobile, and cold._ WESTERMANN _enters_.]

WESTERMANN. Good God, not a moment too soon! I've been walking

up and down outside for the last two hours. It's harder to enter

your house than a Vendée city. [ROBESPIERRE, _his hands behind

his back, motionless, face stolid, lips contracted, looks_

WESTERMANN _in the eye._ WESTERMANN _stops for a moment, then

continues._] I thought you didn't want to receive me. Desmoulins

told me you wouldn't. I swore you would, if I had to send a

cannon-shot through the front-door. [_He laughs._] Pardon my

military frankness. [ROBESPIERRE _stands as before._ WESTERMANN,

_ill at ease, tries to appear natural._] Lord, you're well

guarded. There's a very pretty girl on guard at the door. She's

mending socks. She's hard to deal with--incorruptible, like

you! I'd have had to enter over her dead body--! If I were in

the enemy's country, that wouldn't have been so bad-[_He gives

a forced laugh._ ROBESPIERRE _maintains silence, and twists his

hands impatiently._ WESTERMANN _sits down, trying to appear at

his ease, while_ ROBESPIERRE _stands._ WESTERMANN _then rises._]

There are some idiots who say that I'm your enemy. I don't

give a damn what they say. How can I be the enemy of virtue?

Nonsense! Aristides the enemy of Leonidas? The bastion of the

Republic and the rampart of the _Patrie!_ Why, they're meant to

help each other! Good fellows like us always put the glory of

the nation above everything, don't we? We understand, don't we?

[_He offers his hand._ ROBESPIERRE _does not move a muscle_.] He

won't give me his hand, eh? Won't you, really? Are you my enemy,

then? You're planning to ruin me? By God, if I thought that--!

Am I a good-for-nothing blackguard to be kept waiting for two

hours in the street, and then when you finally let me in, you

don't even offer me a chair? You let me stand up, and don't even

answer me? By God! [_He stamps on the floor_.]

ROBESPIERRE [_glacially_]. General, you are on the wrong track.

There is a great difference between Leonidas and Père Duchesne.

You take your models from a dangerous quarter.

WESTERMANN [_surprised_]. What quarter?

ROBESPIERRE. The Revolution.

WESTERMANN [_genuinely astonished_]. But, tell me, citizen, what

have I done? What do you accuse me of?

ROBESPIERRE. The Committee of Public Safety will tell you.

WESTERMANN. I have a right to be told now.

ROBESPIERRE. Ask your conscience.

WESTERMANN. My conscience is clear.

ROBESPIERRE. I pity the man who cannot hear the voice of remorse.

WESTERMANN [_calming himself with a violent effort, though his

voice trembles with anger and grief_]. I feel remorse for only

one thing: having sacrificed my life to an ungrateful nation.

I have suffered for it during the past thirty years. I've gone

through every form of misery. Ten times I have saved the country

from invasion. It never recognized my services. The first

impostor that comes along denounces me; they believe anonymous

letters from soldiers I punished for cowardice; they accuse

me, threaten me, degrade me from my rank, while damned little

rapscallions are promoted over my head. I must obey Rossignol,

a stupid little goldsmith who knows nothing about war, whose

reputation is made on his silly blunders. All his titles merely

prove the vileness of his origin. Kléber, Dubayet, and Marceau

are wasting away in some petty position, and that shopkeeper

Niort commands both the armies!

ROBESPIERRE. The Republic places more confidence in a commander

with true Republican loyalty than in mere military heads.

WESTERMANN. What confidence does the Republic place in

Rossignol's defeats?

ROBESPIERRE. The responsibility for them does not rest on

Rossignol's shoulders, but upon those who are about him. If

Kléber, Dubayet, and Westermann are so proud of their ability,

why do they not put it at the service of the general whom the

nation has placed at their head?

WESTERMANN. So you want to deprive us of our just glory?

ROBESPIERRE. Yes.

WESTERMANN. Confess, you are afraid of military glory! You want

to minimize it!

ROBESPIERRE. Yes.

WESTERMANN [_with a sneer_]. Lawyers might be jealous, eh?

ROBESPIERRE. It is an insult to reason, and a menace to freedom.

What has made you so proud? You are only doing your duty. Do

you risk your life? The heads of every one of us are the stakes

in the desperate game we are playing against despotism. Do you

deserve any more credit than we in risking your life? We are all

devoted to liberty or to death. You, like us, are an instrument

of the Revolution, the great knife that is to cleave a way

through the enemy for the Republic. It is a terrible task, but

it must be accepted bravely, and humbly. You have no more right

to be proud of your cannon than we of our guillotine.

WESTERMANN. You outrage the grandeur of war.

ROBESPIERRE. Nothing is grand but virtue. No matter where it

resides--in soldiers, workingmen, legislators--the Republic

honors it alone. But the criminals must tremble. Nothing

protects them from its just wrath, neither their titles nor

their swords.

WESTERMANN. Are you threatening me?

ROBESPIERRE. I was speaking of no one in particular. On his head

be it who recognizes himself!

WESTERMANN. God in heaven! [_He looks threateningly at_

ROBESPIERRE, _quivering from head to foot. He turns to go,

then swings round._] On your guard, Sylla! My head sits more

solidly on my shoulders than Custine's. There are still men who

do not fear tyranny. I am going to find Danton. [_He knocks

against the wall before he finds the door, and then rushes

out._ ELÉONORE _enters from the door leading to the Duplays'

apartments_.]

ELÉONORE. He's gone at last. Oh, Maximilien, I was so worried

while he was here!

ROBESPIERRE [_affectionately_]. My dear Eléonore. Were you

listening?

ELÉONORE. That man's voice frightened me. I couldn't help

coming. I was in there, in Mamma's bath-room.

ROBESPIERRE. What could you have done if he had attempted

violence?

ELÉONORE [_embarrassed_]. I--I don't know.

ROBESPIERRE [_taking her hand from behind her back _]. What is

this?

ELÉONORE [_blushing_]. A pistol that Philippe left on the table

last night when he came home.

ROBESPIERRE [_taking the pistol, and holding her hand in his_].

No, no, these hands must not be soiled with such murderous

instruments! They must not shed blood, even to save my life.

I want there to remain at least two innocent hands in all the

world, to purify the world and Robespierre's heart--when the

work is at last done.

ELÉONORE. But why expose yourself to such danger? You provoked

that man, and they say he is cruel.

ROBESPIERRE. I am not afraid of the swashbucklers. The moment

you take them from the field of battle they merely talk; they

tremble when they find themselves in the presence of a new

power, one they never met with steel: the Law.

ELÉONORE. Citizen Fouché also called, but he was not admitted.

That was your order.

ROBESPIERRE. My door is forever closed to the man who dishonored

the majesty of the Terror in the massacres at Lyon.

ELÉONORE. He did not want to go. He even cried.

ROBESPIERRE [_severely_]. So do crocodiles.

ELÉONORE. He went to see your sister, to ask her to intercede on

his behalf.

ROBESPIERRE [_his expression changing_]. Is she coming? The fool

made her believe he was in love with her! She does not respect

him, but that sort of attention always flatters a woman, no

matter who the man happens to be. She will try to defend him. In

the name of Heaven, don't let her in. Tell her I am very busy,

and that I can see no one.

ELÉONORE [_smiling_]. You brave all the tyrants of Europe, but

you are afraid of your own sister!

ROBESPIERRE [_smiling_]. She is a good woman, and she loves me

dearly. But she is so tiresome! Her continual jealousy, the

scenes she makes--they drive me mad! I think I would agree to

anything to keep her quiet.

ELÉONORE. Don't worry; Mamma knows, and won't let her in.

ROBESPIERRE. My dear friends, how wonderfully you take care of

me!

ELÉONORE. We are responsible to the nation for you.

ROBESPIERRE. What a pleasure it is for me to live here! It's

a feast for the soul! This is no selfish retreat from the

tempests. No, the door is opened to all the care and troubles of

the nation; they assume a certain dignified air when they enter.

We receive destiny here, without flinching, our eyes in its

eyes. I never cross the threshold without breathing the air of

that court, with the smell of fresh-cut wood, peace, and hope.

The honest face of Duplay, your mother's welcome voice, your

hand, Eléonore, extended toward me like the hand of brotherhood,

all the loyal affection you have for me, inspire in me the

greatest, the rarest, thing of all, the thing I most need and of

which I always had least!

ELÉONORE. What?

ROBESPIERRE. Confidence.

ELÉONORE. Is there some one you don't trust?

ROBESPIERRE. I trust no man. I can read lies in their faces, I

see intrigue in their protestations. Their eyes, their mouths,

their hands, their whole body lies. Suspicion poisons every

thought I have. I was intended for a quieter existence. I love

men, and I wish to believe in them. But how can I, when I see

them perjure themselves ten times a day, sell themselves, their

friends, their armies, their _Patrie_, for motives of fear, or

ambition, or viciousness, or malevolence pure and simple? I have

seen Mirabeau, Lafayette, Dumouriez, Custine, the king, the

aristocrats, the Girondins, the Heresists--all of them betrayed

one after the other. The soldiers would have surrendered the

nation twenty times had they not feared the guillotine awaiting

them. Three-fourths of the members are conspiring against the

Convention. Vice is curbed under the heroic discipline imposed

by the Revolution. Its allies dare not attack the forces of

virtue in broad daylight; they hide under masks of piety and

mercy, in order to influence public opinion, and deflect it

in favor of rogues, inciting them against the true patriots.

But I will tear their masks from their faces, and force the

Assembly to see what is beneath: the hideous face of treason.

I will force the disguised accomplices of the conspirators to

condemn them, or else die with them myself. The Republic will be

victorious. But, oh God, in the midst of what devastation! Vice

is like the Hydra: every drop of blood that falls to the ground

will-grow up into another monster. The best men have fallen into

its clutches; they fall as if stricken with the plague: the day

before yesterday it was Philippeaux; yesterday, Danton; today,

Desmoulins--Desmoulins, my friend from childhood, my brother!

Who will be the next traitor?

ELÉONORE. Is it possible? So much treason! Have you the proofs?

ROBESPIERRE. Yes, more than proofs: moral certainty, that

infallible light which never deceives.

ELÉONORE. No, you cannot be mistaken: you know everything, you

see deep into people's hearts. Are they all corrupt?

ROBESPIERRE. There are four or five whom I respect: the honest

Couthon, who thinks nothing of his own sufferings, and only of

those of the world; the lovable and modest Le Bas; my brother,

who has a good heart but thinks too much about his pleasure;

two children, and a man who is on the point of death.

ELÉONORE. But Saint-Just?

ROBESPIERRE. I am afraid of him. Saint-Just is the living sword

of the Revolution, her implacable weapon; he would sacrifice

me, as he has the others, to his immutable law. Every one

else conspires against me. They dislike my clearsightedness,

they are jealous of the people's love for me; they try to

render me odious in their eyes. The proconsuls of Marseille

and Lyon commit atrocities in the name of Robespierre. The

counter-revolution now preaches clemency, and again terror. If

I release my hold through weariness, I am lost, and so is the

Republic. Couthon is ill. Le Bas and my brother are two stupids.

Saint-Just is far away, and holds the armies. I am left alone

surrounded by traitors, who are trying all the while to strike

me from behind. They will kill me, Eléonore.

ELÉONORE [_taking his hand, and with child-like vivacity_]. If

you die, you will not die alone. [ROBESPIERRE _looks at her

affectionately, and she blushes_.]

ROBESPIERRE. My dear Eléonore, no, you will not die. I am

stronger than my cowardly enemies. I have Truth on my side.

ELÉONORE. You are so worried, and yet you ought to be happy,

because you are working for every one's happiness. How unjust

life is!

ROBESPIERRE. Now I have made you sad. I was wrong to shatter,

your illusions. Forgive me.

ELÉONORE. Don't be sorry. I am very proud of your confidence in

me. All night long I thought about those pages from Rousseau

you read us yesterday. They were so soothing. I heard the sound

of your voice--and those beautiful words. I know them by heart!

ROBESPIERRE [_reciting, with an air of affectionate melancholy,

and with great sincerity_]. "The communion of hearts gives

to sadness something inexplicably sweet and touching, and

friendship is the especial gift to the unfortunate for the

assuagement of their woes and the consolation of their

sufferings." [ELÉONORE, _her hand in his, says nothing, but she

smiles and blushes_.] You say nothing?

ELÉONORE [_reciting_]. "Can anything that one says to one's

friend ever equal what one feels by his side?"

MADAME DUPLAY [_outside_]. Maximilien, here is Saint-Just.

[ELÉONORE _runs out._ SAINT-JUST _enters._ ROBESPIERRE _greets

him. They shake hands as if they had been separated only a very

short time._]

SAINT-JUST. How are you?

ROBESPIERRE. How are you, Saint-Just? [_They sit down._]

SAINT-JUST [_gazing calmly at_ ROBESPIERRE]. I am very glad to

see you again.

ROBESPIERRE. Le Bas writes us that it was only by the barest

chance that we see you again.

SAINT-JUST. Yes. [_A pause._] We need arms there; the army lacks

muskets.

ROBESPIERRE. We are manufacturing them. All of Paris is at work.

They have set up blacksmith shops in the churches. All other

work is at a standstill. You must have seen Duplay's carpenters

making the stocks when you came by. Jewelers are making the

locks; there are forges in all the public places.

SAINT-JUST [_after a pause_]. Food is very scarce. Whole

divisions are out of provender. We have very little time; the

campaign begins in three weeks at the latest. All the blood of

France must flow to the North.

ROBESPIERRE. The orders have been given. France is starving in

order that the soldiers may have enough to eat.

SAINT-JUST. When you no longer need my advice, send me back. The

first engagements will be decisive. Every effort must be made.

ROBESPIERRE. Doesn't the life you lead wear you out?

SAINT-JUST [_sincerely, but without emphasis_]. It affords

me some rest from useless discussion. Thought and action out

there are identical, like thunder and lightning. Every desire

immediately becomes a fact, forever; it is written in the

blood of men and the destiny of the world. The task is a truly

grand one, and the agony divine! At night, in the snow, at the

out-posts of the army, along the weary stretches of the Flemish

plain, under the vast winter sky, I feel a thrill of joy run

through my body, and my heart's blood throb in my breast. Alone,

lost in the midst of the shadows of the Universe, surrounded by

enemies, with one foot in the grave, we are the guardians of

Reason, the living Light. We are decisive factors in the destiny

of the world. We re-create Man.

ROBESPIERRE. Happy the man who strives on the field of action,

and is not forced to stay at home.

SAINT-JUST. Who strives more than you? The liberty of the world

is here in Paris.

ROBESPIERRE. Here we have the agonizing task of stamping out

viciousness. It soils every one who takes part in the nasty

business. I must confess, when I contemplate the vicious crimes

which the torrent of the Revolution rolls along with all its

virtue, I am afraid that I shall catch up some of the nastiness

and be identified with it in the eyes of posterity. Merely

because I am near perverse and impure men.

SAINT-JUST. Put the sword between yourself and them. You should

touch the impure only with steel.

ROBESPIERRE. The corruption is spreading everywhere. Men I

counted on most have succumbed. Old friends.

SAINT-JUST. No friends! We have only the _Patrie!_

ROBESPIERRE. Danton is a menace; he is under suspicion. He

has uttered violent and insulting words. He is surrounded by

conspirators, debauchees, ruined financiers, degraded officers.

Every sort of malcontent has joined his forces.

SAINT-JUST. Danton must go!

ROBESPIERRE. Danton was once a Republican. He loved the

_Patrie._ Perhaps he still loves her?

SAINT-JUST. No one respects her unless he proves it by

austere and pure living. He is not a Republican who possesses

aristocratic vices and ideas. I hate Catiline. His cynical

heart, his cowardly brain, his ignoble political ideals--he

tries to please all parties in order to use them for his own

ends--it all brings dishonor upon the Republic. Danton must be

laid low.

ROBESPIERRE. His fall will carry the imprudent Desmoulins along

with him.

SAINT-JUST. That impudent pen-pusher! Why, the sufferings of the

_Patrie_ are merely an excuse for him to do a clever piece of

writing! He's a dilettante, who would sacrifice Liberty for a

pretty antithesis!

ROBESPIERRE. A child, the dupe of his friends, and of his own

mind.

SAINT-JUST. Cleverness is also a crime, when France is in

danger. The misfortunes of the State have thrown a sad, a

religious air, over everything. I am suspicious of all who laugh.

ROBESPIERRE. But I love Desmoulins.

SAINT-JUST. And I love you, but if you were a criminal, I would

accuse you.

ROBESPIERRE [_walks away, distressed. He returns after a

moment's silence_]. Thank you.--You are happy; you never

hesitate. You never compromise with evil.

SAINT-JUST. I have seen more evil than you.

ROBESPIERRE. Where?

SAINT-JUST. Within myself.

ROBESPIERRE [_surprised_]. In yourself, you whose life is an

example of self-sacrifice?

SAINT-JUST. You don't know!

ROBESPIERRE [_incredulously_]. Some--youthful slip?

SAINT-JUST [_seriously_]. I have been to the brink of the

abyss; I saw crime down below, ready to devour me. Ever since I

have sworn to destroy it in the world at large and within myself.

ROBESPIERRE. Sometimes I tire of the struggle. The enemy is

too powerful. Can we really reform mankind? Will our dream be

realized?

SAINT-JUST. The day I cease to believe that, I shall kill myself.

ELÉONORE [_opening the door, says softly_]. Here are

Billaud-Varenne and Vadier. [_They enter._ BILLAUD-VARENNE'S

_head droops from fatigue, and his eyes are heavy._ VADIER

_compresses his lips, and is hitter and sardonic. He speaks

with a marked Southern accent (which is not indicated in the

text)._ ROBESPIERRE _and_ SAINT-JUST _rise and coldly greet the

newcomers. They bow, but do not offer to shake hands_.]

BILLAUD-VARENNE. Greetings and Fraternity!

VADIER [_noticing_ SAINT-JUST]. Saint-Just! Good! We shall

now make up for lost time. [BILLAUD-VARENNE _and_ VADIER

_seat themselves unceremoniously._ SAINT-JUST _walks about._

ROBESPIERRE _remains standing, and leans against the

window-sill. After a pause._]

BILLAUD-VARENNE. The guillotine! You have waited too long,

Robespierre: we are in immediate danger. If Danton is still

alive tomorrow, the cause of liberty is lost.

ROBESPIERRE. What news?

BILLAUD-VARENNE [_with papers in his hand_]. Look. The traitor

is at it again.

ROBESPIERRE. Who?

VADIER. Your friend, Maximilien: Camille, dear Camille.

ROBESPIERRE. Has he been writing again?

BILLAUD-VARENNE. These proofs have just been seized. Read.

VADIER [_rubbing his hands_]. The seventh _Vieux Cordelier._ The

continuation of the good apostle's Credo.

ROBESPIERRE. The idiot! Will he not learn to hold his tongue?

BILLAUD-VARENNE [_like a monomaniac_]. The guillotine!

SAINT-JUST [_reading the proofs with_ ROBESPIERRE]. Like a

prostitute, who cannot but bring dishonor upon herself.

ROBESPIERRE. And Danton?

BILLAUD-VARENNE. Danton is at it again; he is speaking at the

Palais-Royal. He insults Vadier, and me, and all the patriots.

Desmoulins is with him. They're all together with the women and

Westermann, too. They make obscene allusions to the Committee.

The people are gathering about them, and laughing.

SAINT-JUST. You hear, Robespierre?

ROBESPIERRE [_disdainfully_]. No danger. We shall have time to

deliberate in peace before Danton is through drinking. [_Looking

again at the proofs._] Why, this is suicide!

VADIER. He's gone too far this time!

BILLAUD-VARENNE. His head should follow!

SAINT-JUST [_reading_]. He compares the members of the

Convention to Nero and Tiberius.

BILLAUD-VARENNE [_reading_]. He dares to say that we went after

Custine on Pitt's orders, and not because Custine was a traitor,

but because he was not a worse one.

VADIER [_reading_]. "The Committee will reduce the Assembly to

the servile condition of a parlement the rebellious members of

which are to be thrown into prison."

ROBESPIERRE [_correcting them_]. He puts "would reduce," and not

"will reduce."

VADIER. The same thing.

BILLAUD-VARENNE [_reading_]. "See how near is the Committee to

ruining the Republic, when it sends two of its Deputies which it

cannot bribe to the Luxembourg?"

ROBESPIERRE. He says "it can send," and not "it sends."

BILLAUD-VARENNE [_pettishly_]. Don't be so particular!

SAINT-JUST [_reading_]. He has the effrontery to maintain that

"the War-office appointed as heads of the armies the brothers of

actresses with whom they had been intimate."

VADIER. Disorganizing the defense, reviling the nation in the

eyes of foreigners! Can nothing stop his vile tongue!

BILLAUD-VARENNE. And the whole thing bristling with demands for

clemency, and talk about humanity!

VADIER. And his hypocritical tears! Bah!

SAINT-JUST. There is no plague of Egypt like a sentimental man!

No tyrant brings more harm to mankind. The traitors of the

Gironde called themselves merciful, too, when they carried the

torch of rebellion through France.

ROBESPIERRE. Desmoulins is merely weak, he is not dangerous. I

knew him as a child. I know him now.

BILLAUD-VARENNE [_suspiciously_]. Do Robespierre's friends enjoy

special privileges?

VADIER [_jeering, as he reads the "Vieux Cordelier"_]. And

listen to this, Maximilien--this is for you. It seems that your

closing the houses of ill-fame and pretending to be so zealous

in reforming the world, is merely on Pitt's orders; because you

"thereby deprive the government of one of its sources of income:

licentiousness." Do you hear that, oh Incorruptible one?

SAINT-JUST. The nasty hypocritical scoundrel!

BILLAUD-VARENNE [_violently_]. The guillotine! [_He falls, with

his head on the table, like an ox that has been felled._]

ROBESPIERRE. Has he fainted?

VADIER [_coldly_]. Dizziness. [SAINT-JUST _opens the window,

and_ BILLAUD-VARENNE _comes to._]

SAINT-JUST. Are you ill, Billaud?

BILLAUD-VARENNE [_hoarsely_]. Who are you?--Scoundrels!--I'm

utterly exhausted: I haven't slept for the last two nights.

VADIER. He spends his nights at the Committee and his days at

the Assembly.

ROBESPIERRE. You are overworking. Would you like some one to

take your place for a few days?

BILLAUD-VARENNE. My work can't be done by others. Corresponding

with the various departments, holding every string of France

in my hand: no one else could do that. If I stop for a moment,

everything will collapse. No, I must stay until I drop.

SAINT-JUST. We shall all die at our posts.

BILLAUD-VARENNE. Oh, Nature, thou didst not create me for such

tempests! My soul is torn by these murderous blasts from the

desert! My heart is too soft; I was intended for sweeter things:

retirement, friends, a family!

VADIER [_ironically_]. Let us not become sentimental, Billaud!

BILLAUD-VARENNE [_becoming violent again_]. Let us purify the

atmosphere! To the guillotine with Desmoulins!

ROBESPIERRE. It is I who should give the example: I wash my

hands of Desmoulins.

VADIER [_laughing to himself_]. Brutus, oh, magnanimous man,

virtuous man, I knew very well you would never hesitate to rid

yourself of a friend!

ROBESPIERRE. The fate of Desmoulins is bound up with that of

another man.

BILLAUD-VARENNE. Are you afraid to mention Danton by name?

ROBESPIERRE. I am afraid to break a talisman of the Republic.

VADIER. Its lucky piece.

ROBESPIERRE. Danton is my enemy. If my friendship counts for

nothing in our deliberations, my hatred, on the other hand,

should not weigh in my judgment. Before entering the fray,

let us consider in cold blood what risks we incur in thus

dismantling a fortress of the Revolution.

BILLAUD-VARENNE. A fortress for sale!

VADIER. The scarecrow of the Revolution! In time of public

danger such monstrous idols are brought out to rout the enemy.

He rather inspires fear in the breast of those who hear him. His

hideous face frightens Liberty.

ROBESPIERRE. You cannot deny that his face is known and feared

throughout Europe.

VADIER [_chaffingly_]. True, and like a good sans-culotte he

cheerfully shows to the world "What Cæsar shamelessly showed to

Nicodemus in his youth, and what long ago the hero of Greece

admired in Hephæstos, and Hadrian put into the Pantheon."

SAINT-JUST [_angrily_]. Stop your nasty joking! Would you make

war on corruption with corruption?

VADIER. Now, you aren't going to make me recite Rousseau to you?

ROBESPIERRE [_making an effort at impartiality_]. I think it no

more than right to take Danton's past services into account.

SAINT-JUST. The more good a man does, the greater his obligation

to continue. Woe be unto him who has once defended the cause

and the people, and abandons them afterward! He is a greater

criminal than the man who consistently fought against it. For he

once knew the good, and has wilfully betrayed it.

ROBESPIERRE. Hébert's death stirred up public sympathy. The

police reports I received inform me that our enemies are

profiting by the confusion of the people, who have been

suddenly enlightened, in order to shake their faith in their

true friends. Everything nowadays is open to suspicion; even the

memory of Marat. We must be prudent, and take care not to add to

the general suspicion by internal quarrels.

SAINT-JUST. Let us put an end to suspicion with the death of the

suspects.

VADIER [_aside, glancing at_ ROBESPIERRE]. The coward! He's

afraid to touch his aristocratic friends! Cromwell keeps with

the majority! If he persists I'll guillotine a hundred toads in

his pond!

ROBESPIERRE. A head like his does not fall without making the

State feel it.

BILLAUD-VARENNE [_suspiciously and with violence_]. Are you

afraid, Robespierre?

VADIER [_inciting_ BILLAUD-VARENNE]. Ask him, Billaud, if he

uses Danton like a mattress to hide behind, and escape the

bullets?

BILLAUD-VARENNE [_brutally_]. Speak out: You are afraid of being

exposed by Danton's fall? You stick close to him! Danton diverts

the attention--and the blows--from you, eh?

ROBESPIERRE. I take no notice of such slander. What do I

care for the dangers? What is my life to me? But I have some

experience from the past, and I am looking into the future. You

are bloodthirsty monsters; your hatred blinds you. You think of

yourselves, and not of the Republic.

SAINT-JUST. Let us calmly consider what the Republic owes to

the conspirators. Let us not ask whether Danton is talented,

but whether his talents serve the Republic. Where have these

attacks of the past three months come from? Danton. Who

inspired Philippeaux's letters against the Committee? Danton.

Who dictates Desmoulins' pamphlets? Danton. Each number of

the _Vieux Cordelier_ is submitted to him; he corrects the

manuscript in his own hand. If the river is poisoned, let us

stop it at the source. Where is Danton's sincerity? Where is his

bravery? What has he done the past year for the Republic?

ROBESPIERRE [_pretending to be convinced, and speaking with a

mixture of sincerity and hypocrisy_]. It is true he never spoke

for The Mountain when it was attacked.

SAINT-JUST. No, but he did for Dumouriez, and the generals who

were his accomplices. The Jacobins defended him; you, too,

Robespierre. But when you were accused, did he say a word?

ROBESPIERRE. No, and when he saw me deserted, a victim of the

slanders of the Gironde, he said to his friends: "Since he

wishes to ruin himself, let him! Let us not share his lot!" But

do not drag me into the discussion.

BILLAUD-VARENNE. You yourself told me, Robespierre, that he did

all he could to save the Girondins, and to strike Hanriot, who

arrested the traitors.

ROBESPIERRE. That is true.

SAINT-JUST. And you told me, Robespierre, that he was base

enough to confess his embezzlements, and Fabre's--his

secretary--during his brief administration as Minister of

Justice.

ROBESPIERRE. I don't deny that.

SAINT-JUST. He was Lafayette's friend. Mirabeau bought him. He

corresponded with Dumouriez and Wimpfen. He flattered Orléans.

Every enemy of the Revolution was on familiar terms with him.

ROBESPIERRE. You must not exaggerate!

SAINT-JUST. You yourself told me. I should never have known

otherwise.

ROBESPIERRE. Of course, but--

BILLAUD-VARENNE [_violently_]. Do you deny it?

ROBESPIERRE. I cannot. Danton was an assiduous member of those

Royalists gatherings, where Orléans himself mixed the punch.

Fabre and Wimpfen, too, were present. They tried to bring the

Deputies of the Mountain, to seduce and compromise them. But

that was of no importance.

BILLAUD-VARENNE. On the contrary! It was high treason. Out and

out conspiracy!

ROBESPIERRE. I have just thought of a small detail. It seems

that lately he boasted that if he were accused he would throw

the blame on us for the Dauphin affair.

BILLAUD-VARENNE. The blackguard! Did he say that? And you defend

him?

ROBESPIERRE. Westermann just left this room. He threatened me

with Danton, and an uprising.

BILLAUD-VARENNE. And we sit here talking! The marauders are

still at large!

ROBESPIERRE. Do you want him?

SAINT-JUST. The nation wants him.

VADIER [_aside_]. The hypocrite! He wants him, too! But we must

persuade him!

ROBESPIERRE. He was a great man. At least, he had the air of a

great man, and at times he even seemed a good and virtuous man.

SAINT-JUST. Nothing so resembles virtue as a great crime.

VADIER [_sarcastically_]. You will deliver his funeral oration

later on, Maximilien. But now let us bring down the beast.

SAINT-JUST. Vadier, you must respect death.

VADIER. But the little fellow is still alive.

SAINT-JUST. Danton is already doomed.

BILLAUD-VARENNE. Who will take it upon himself to accuse him?

VADIER. Saint-Just. The young man does it so well. Every

sentence of his is as good as a stroke of the guillotine.

SAINT-JUST. It would give me great pleasure to attack the

monster.

ROBESPIERRE [_getting papers, which he gives to_ SAINT-JUST].

Here are the notes, all ready for you.

VADIER [_aside_]. He has a whole portfolio like that for each of

his friends.

ROBESPIERRE. Let us not honor Danton by trying him alone: it

would attract too much attention.

BILLAUD-VARENNE. Let us overwhelm him in a general accusation.

VADIER. Whom shall we put with him, to fill out the menu?

SAINT-JUST. Every one who has tried to corrupt the cause of

Liberty by means of money, evil example, or brains.

VADIER. Let us be clear. You're too vague.

ROBESPIERRE. Danton loved gold. Let him be buried with gold.

Let us implicate him in the bank affair. Put him in with the

embezzlers. He will find himself in company with his friend, his

secretary, his Fabre d'Eglantine.

VADIER. Fabre, Chabot, the Jews, the Austrian bankers, the

Freys, and the Diederischens--good. We begin to have an imposing

list.

BILLAUD-VARENNE. It might be well to add Hérault, the friend of

the émigrés.

SAINT-JUST. Philippeaux, above all, the disorganizer of the

army, the destroyer of discipline.

ROBESPIERRE. Westermann, with his bloody sword, always ready for

an insurrection. Is that all?

VADIER. You forget dear Camille.

ROBESPIERRE. Wouldn't you prefer Bourbon, or Legendre, the

mouthpieces of the enemy in the Assembly?

VADIER. No--Camille.

BILLAUD-VARENNE. Camille.

SAINT-JUST. Justice!

ROBESPIERRE. Take him.

SAINT-JUST. Good-by for the present. I must prepare my report. I

shall strike them tomorrow at the Convention.

VADIER. No, no, young man. Your youthful imprudence is running

away with you. Would you call Danton into court?

SAINT-JUST. Danton believes that no one will dare attack him

face to face. I shall undeceive him.

VADIER. Your good intentions, my friend, are not enough. You

must have lungs deep enough to drown out the roarings of that

bull!

SAINT-JUST. Truth will overcome tempests.

ROBESPIERRE. We cannot expose the Republic in an open argument

like that.

SAINT-JUST. What then? [ROBESPIERRE _does not answer._]

BILLAUD-VARENNE. Have Danton arrested tonight.

SAINT-JUST [_violently_]. Never!

VADIER. The end justifies the means!

SAINT-JUST. I never strike an unarmed enemy. I will face Danton

willingly. Combats like that can only bring honor to the

Republic; but your suggestion is dishonorable. Ignoble!

BILLAUD-VARENNE. The enemies of the people deserve no

consideration!

VADIER. Useless bravery in politics is always stupid, and

sometimes treasonable.

SAINT-JUST. I won't have it! [_He throws his cap to the floor._]

BILLAUD-VARENNE [_severely_]. Do you then prefer the fight to

the welfare of the Republic?

SAINT-JUST. Such attempts require danger; it sanctifies them.

A Revolution is a heroic enterprise, in which the leaders walk

between the guillotine and immortality. We should be criminals

if we were not ready to sacrifice our lives, and the lives of

the others, at any moment.

VADIER. Never worry; you are risking enough as it is. If Danton

were a prisoner he would incite the people; and never doubt, if

he is victorious, he will send you to the block.

SAINT-JUST. I despise the dust I am made of. My heart is the

only thing that really belongs to me, and I will pass through

life, through blood and murder, without sullying its purity.

BILLAUD-VARENNE [_with hard and disdainful severity_].

Self-esteem is pure selfishness. It makes no difference to us

whether Saint-Just's heart is gullied or not; we are saving the

Republic.

SAINT-JUST [_with an inquiring look at_ ROBESPIERRE].

Robespierre!

ROBESPIERRE. My friend, you need fear nothing so far as your

soul is concerned. The storm and stress of a Revolution are not

dealt with according to ordinary processes of law; we cannot

apply moral standards to the force that is now shaping the

world on a new foundation. Of course, we must be just; but the

individual conscience cannot judge: only the public conscience

matters. Our light is in the people: its salvation is our law.

We have but one question to ask ourselves: do the people want

Danton put down? Once that question is decided, the whole matter

is ended. We must wage war to win. Justice means that that which

is just shall triumph. We cannot wait: Danton must be laid low.

To allow him to arm himself would be to offer our breast to the

dagger of an assassin; military and financial despotism would

rule the Revolution, and civil wars lay waste our land for a

hundred years. We would be hated in history, though we deserve

to be loved.

BILLAUD-VARENNE. We must win at all costs! Every one must

tremble with fear at our terrible dictatorship!

VADIER. This is not a question of whether one man shall or shall

not be judged according to law, but whether all Europe is to

become Jacobin or not.

SAINT-JUST [_his hands to his breast, resembling David's

"Robespierre," in his picture of the "Tennis-Court Oath"_]. Oh,

Republic, take my honor if you will, take me and devour me!

BILLAUD-VARENNE [_sharply_]. Perhaps at this very moment the

Republic is choking; our ideas are fruitless; Reason is dying.

Quick!

ROBESPIERRE. Arrest Danton. [_He signs a paper._ BILLAUD-VARENNE

_also signs, in feverish haste._]

SAINT-JUST. For you, Liberty! [_He signs._]

BILLAUD-VARENNE. The Convention won't object?

ROBESPIERRE [_disdainfully_]. The Convention is always ready to

sacrifice its members for the public welfare.

VADIER [_signing_]. Leave this matter to me.

ROBESPIERRE [_with a sigh_]. The Revolution weighs heavier on

our shoulders than ever.

VADIER [_aside_]. The cat-tiger has scruples, but he licks his

chops all the same!

ROBESPIERRE. A regrettable necessity. We mutilate the Republic

in order to save her.

SAINT-JUST [_somber and exalted_]. The philosopher Jesus said

to his disciples: "And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it

off, and cast it from thee; for it is profitable for thee that

one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body

should be cast into hell." And I say to you: if your friend is

corrupt, and corrupts the Republic, cast him from the Republic;

if your brother is corrupt and corrupts the Republic, cast him

from the Republic. And if the blood of the Republic, if your own

blood, flows from a gaping wound, let it flow. The Republic must

be purified, or die! The Republic is virtue. If that virtue be

stained, the Republic ceases to exist.

VADIER [_aside_]. They are all mad. They ought to be put into

strait-jackets. They must be put in cells.--On, then! [_He

starts to go._]

BILLAUD-VARENNE. Wait until I sign.

VADIER. You have already signed.

BILLAUD-VARENNE. Where? I don't remember. What have I done? Was

I right? _Tristis est anima mea!_ Oh, if I could only stretch

out in the fields, on the fresh earth; smell the scent of the

woods; see a brook running between banks of willows! Rest! Rest--

ROBESPIERRE. The founders of the Republic have no rest this side

the grave.

ACT III

[_The Revolutionary Tribunal._

_The Public Prosecutor_ FOUQUIER-TINVILLE; HERMAN, _the Judge,

the Jury, gendarmes, and the People, are present. On the

prisoners' bench are_ DANTON, DESMOULINS, HÉRAULT, PHILIPPEAUX,

WESTERMANN, CHABOT _and the brothers_ FREY_--the last two of

whom do not speak--and_ FABRE D'EGLANTINE, _who sits in an

arm-chair in their midst. In the front row with the public,

sits the painter_ DAVID _and some of his friends. The windows

of the room are open, and through them the shouts of the crowd

are heard. From time to time,_ VADIER'S _head is seen peering

through the wicket in the door, behind the_ JUDGE, _watching

the trial. General_ HANRIOT _stands at the door._ HERMAN _and_

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE _cast anxious glances toward him every few

moments._

CHABOT _and the brothers_ FREY _are being questioned, and_

DANTON _is boiling with rage._ DESMOULINS _appears crushed and

discouraged._ HÉRAULT _calmly looks on, smiling._ PHILIPPEAUX,

_jaws set and eyes riveted on his judges, prepares his defense._

FABRE D'EGLANTINE, _who is ill and suffering, sits back in

his chair. The crowd jostle and push, following the trial

with great interest. They emphasize with their remarks and

shouting each development in the trial, like an audience at a

melodrama--amused and moved at the same time._]

JUDGE [_to the brothers_ FREY], You are an agent of Pitt. You

have tried to corrupt the Convention. In order to further your

speculations and corrupt practices, you tried to bribe the

representatives of the people. You have put a price on the

conscience of every one you wished to buy.

DANTON [_bursting forth_]. Judge, I demand a word!

JUDGE. Your turn will come, Danton.

DANTON. What have I to do with all this nastiness? What have I

to do with these thieves?

JUDGE. You will be informed.

DANTON. My natural decency prevents my crushing those

scoundrels. You know that very well, and you take advantage of

my silence in order to associate me in the minds of the people

with underhanded swindlers and embezzlers.

HÉRAULT. Calm yourself, Danton.

JUDGE. You must respect the law. You will have a chance to

explain later.

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. Quiet, Danton. You will have to answer the

charges, together with the rest who are accused with you.

DANTON. Danton must not be tried for corruption after a pack of

blackguards. You might at least give him first place. Danton

refuses to be second in anything whatsoever, in virtue or in

vice.

PHILIPPEAUX. Don't, Danton. You must be prudent.

JUDGE [_to the brothers_ FREY]. You are Jews by birth, and

you came originally from Moravia; your name is Tropuscka. You

took the name of Schoenfeld, under which you bought patents of

nobility in Austria, and for the time being called yourself

Frey. One of your sisters was baptized, and is now being kept

by a German baron. The other married Chabot, a former priest,

and now a representative in the Convention. You have associated

yourself with certain other adventurers of doubtful birth like

yourself: Diederischen, who came originally from Holstein, and

was employed in a Viennese bank; Gusman, called the Spaniard,

who passed as a German nobleman; the former Abbé d'Espagnac, an

army contractor. With the help of certain deputies whom you had

bribed, you prospered. Chabot served as a go-between for you

and his colleagues. He put his own price at 150,000 livres. He

gave Fabre d'Eglantine 100,000 of the sum, and Fabre altered the

Convention's decree relative to the _Compagnie des Indes._ I am

submitting the original document to the jury.

VADIER [_stealthily opening the wicket and beckoning to_

HANRIOT]. Is all well, Hanriot?

HANRIOT [_in an undertone_]. Everything, will be satisfactory.

VADIER [_pointing to_ FOUQUIER-TINVILLE _and the Court_]. They

are not baulking?

HANRIOT. Don't worry. I have my eye on them.

VADIER. Good. And don't hesitate; if the prosecutor flinches,

arrest him. [_He closes the wicket_.]

HÉRAULT [_looking at the crowd_]. See the people gape at us!

DANTON [_really ashamed, but with a forced laugh_]. They're not

used to seeing this old face of mine on this infamous bench.

It's not an ordinary sight Danton at the mercy of a pack of

charlatans. Ha, ha! I must laugh! Look at David over there; his

tongue sticks out from sheer hatred, like a dog's. Good God,

Camille, pull yourself together! What the devil, the people are

looking at us!

CAMILLE. Ah, Danton, I shall never see my Lucile again!

DANTON. Nonsense! You'll sleep in her arms tonight.

CAMILLE. Get me away from here, Danton; save me. I don't know

what to do. I can never defend myself!

DANTON. Weaker than a girl! Keep a stiff upper lip, and remember

that we are making history.

CAMILLE. What do I care for history?

DANTON. If you want to see Lucile, don't sit there looking like

a criminal! What the devil are you looking at?

CAMILLE. Look, Danton, there--

DANTON. What? What is it?

CAMILLE. Near the window--that young man--

DANTON. That impudent rascal, with a shock of hair over his

eyes, that law-clerk with his arm around a woman's waist?

CAMILLE. Nothing--nothing--hallucinations: I saw, I thought I

saw--myself--

DANTON. Yourself?

CAMILLE. I imagined I was in his place, at the trial of the

Girondins--my victims--Oh, Danton! [_Meanwhile the documents

have been handed to all the jurymen._]

JUDGE. Fabre, do you still deny the accusations?

FABRE D'EGLANTINE [_quietly, ironically, but wearily_] There

is no need of my explaining it all again: you would refuse to

listen; you have already made up your mind. I showed you just

now that the true version of the decree which I made out had

been changed, added to, and corrected, by traitors. That is

evident to any one who will take the trouble to look at the

papers dispassionately and in a spirit of justice. But there is

no one of that sort here: I know very well that I was condemned

in advance. I was unlucky enough to incur Robespierre's

displeasure, and it is your business to pander to his egotism. I

know this is the end. But I am tired of life, it has brought me

too much suffering for me to make an effort to preserve it.

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. You are outraging justice, and you slander

Robespierre. It is not Robespierre who accuses you of

corruption: it is Cambon. It is not Robespierre who accuses

you of conspiracy: it is Billaud-Varenne. Your propensity

for intrigue is well-known. It has often led you to plot and

conspire and write dangerous plays.

FABRE D'EGLANTINE. Silence! _Ne sutor ultra crepidam._

Messieurs, you my audience, I call you to witness: have not my

plays diverted you? Fouquier can take my head from me, but not

my _Philinte!_

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. Some abnormal form of curiosity has led

you to consider the Nation's Assembly as a theater, where

you sought to play upon the secret springs of the soul. You

made use of everything: the ambition of certain people, the

laziness of others; anxiety, envy, everything suited your ends.

This impudent cleverness of yours has revealed you as the

leader of an organized counter-revolution, either because your

effrontery or your brazen humor were pleased to run counter

to the established order--through your unhealthy disdain of

reason--or rather your confessed aristocratic ideas, and your

cupidity--nourished for a long time by money from Pitt for

the ruin of the Republic. In 'ninety-two you were discovered

conspiring with the enemy. Danton sent you to Dumouriez in

order to carry on your criminal negotiations, which saved the

Prussians, who were practically defeated. This now brings us

to the other prisoners. I must leave you now, as they are

anxious for me to tear away their masks. I shall come to you

again before long, and show the center of this vast network of

intrigues. [_The prisoners are agitated, and the spectators

become more attentive._ DANTON _is seen speaking words of

encouragement to his friends._]

FABRE D'EGLANTINE [_impertinently, to_ FOUQUIER-TINVILLE]. The

plot was not well thought out, and the intrigue confusing; too

many characters; you can't tell where they come from, and you

know only too well where they are going. Why talk so much about

them? Your play is execrable, Fouquier. You had much better chop

off my head at once: I have the tooth-ache.

JUDGE [_to_ HÉRAULT DE SÉCHELLES]. Prisoner, your name and

occupation?

HÉRAULT. Formerly Hérault-Séchelles. Former Attorney-general at

the Châtelet: I once sat in the present room. Former President

of the Convention: in its name I inaugurated the Republican

Constitution. Former member of the Committee of Public Safety;

once the friend of Saint-Just and of Couthon, who are now

murdering me.

JUDGE. You are an aristocrat. Your fortune dates from your

relations with the Court, and from the time you were presented

to the Capet woman by the Polignac woman. You have been in

constant communication with the émigrés; you were the friend of

Proly the Austrian, the bastard son of the Prince of Kaunitz,

who was sent to the guillotine last month. You have divulged the

secrets of the Committee of Public Safety, and sent important

papers to foreign courts; you sheltered under your roof, in

direct violation of the law, the former war commissioner

Catus, who was wanted on the charge of being an emigre and a

conspirator. You were even so audacious as to follow him and

defend him in the Lepelletier section where he was arrested.

HÉRAULT. I deny one thing: I never divulged state secrets, and I

defy you to prove the accusation. The rest is true, I am proud

to confess.

JUDGE. Have you any explanation to make?

HÉRAULT. None at all. I had friends, and no power in the State

could prevent my caring for them and helping them when they

needed help.

JUDGE. You were once President of the Convention. It was your

duty to furnish an example of obedience to the nation.

HÉRAULT. I now offer them an example of another sort:

sacrificing my life for my duty.

JUDGE. Is that all you have to say?

HÉRAULT. That is all.

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. The next, Herman!

JUDGE [_to_ DESMOULINS, _who is next_]. Your name and

occupations?

CAMILLE [_nervously_]. Lucie-Camille-Simplice Desmoulins, Deputy

to the Convention.

JUDGE. How old are you?

CAMILLE. As old as the _sans-culotte_ Jesus when he was

crucified: thirty-three.

JUDGE. You are accused of having sought to bring discredit upon

the Republic. You have spoken libelously of the actions of the

State, and compared the glory of our time to the nastiness

of the Roman emperors. You have reawakened the hopes of the

aristocrats, excited suspicion against those who saw the

necessity of putting down rebellion, and undermined the work

of national defense. Under your mask of humanity, which is

belied by your character as already known, you have tried to

release from prison the suspects, and overwhelm the State with a

counter-revolution. What have you to say in your defense?

CAMILLE [_deeply agitated, tries to answer, but can only

stutter. He puts his hand to his forehead. His friends look

at him in anxiety_]. I ask for mercy. I don't know what's the

matter--with me! I--I can't speak.

JUDGE. Do you confess having done these things?

CAMILLE. No, no.

JUDGE. Then defend yourself.

CAMILLE. I cannot. Excuse me. I--I am ill. [_His friends press

about him. He sits down, breathing hard, and mops his forehead

with a handkerchief. The Judge shrugs his shoulders._]

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. Do you confess or not?

PHILIPPEAUX. Read the seditious passages.

DANTON. Yes, read them; dare read them before the people. Let

them judge where their friends stand!

JUDGE. I have sufficiently indicated them. There is no need of

again calling public attention to such dangerous sentiments.

DANTON. For whom are they dangerous? For cut-throats?

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. I see your course has been prepared in

advance. We shall pay no attention to it.

CAMILLE [_in agony_]. I am ashamed--I beg your pardon, all of

you. I haven't slept for several nights; all these charges

against me--! I'm not master of myself--I can't speak. Give me a

breathing-spell. I--I feel dizzy.

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. We have no time to waste.

DANTON. At what hour have you decided to have our heads? Can't

you wait, hangman?

PHILIPPEAUX. You will wait for Desmoulins. You have no right to

murder people without hearing them.

FABRE D'EGLANTINE. You know he is sensitive and very

impressionable. You are trying to take advantage of his

weakness. You won't do a thing to him while we still live.

HÉRAULT [_ironically_]. Like the duel of the Emperor Commodius

who, armed with a cavalry sword, forced his enemy to fight him

with a fencing-foil tipped with cork.

JUDGE. Silence!

THE FOUR PRISONERS. Silence yourself, hangman!--People, protect

our rights, the sacred rights of the prisoner. [_The People

shout: "Bravo! Bravo!_"]

DANTON [_rubbing_ DESMOULINS' _hands._] Courage, my boy!

CAMILLE [_still nervous, but pulling himself together, he

grasps_ DANTON'S _hand, smiles at him, and rises_]. Thank

you, friends, I feel much better now. You have given me

strength.--That, monsters, is what you will never have: the

affection of the people. You accuse me of having spoken my mind?

I am proud of it. Faithful to the Republic, which I founded, I

will remain free, no matter what it costs me. You say I have

insulted liberty? I have said that liberty meant happiness,

reason, equality, and justice. I have committed these outrages,

yes! You see, oh people, how I am rewarded! [_The People acclaim

him with Bravos._]

JUDGE. You must not address the people.

CAMILLE. Whom should I address? The aristocrats? I begged the

Committee to be merciful, for I wanted the people to enjoy

the liberty which they have acquired, but which seems intended

now merely to satisfy the grudges of a handful of scoundrels!

I asked men to put an end to their quarreling, and that they

be bound together by love into a great family. It appears that

these desires are criminal. But what I call a crime is this mad

political game which soils the nation and the people, forcing

it to plunge their hands into innocent blood before the whole

universe!

JUDGE. It is not your place to accuse; you are here to answer

your accusers.

CAMILLE. Very well, I accuse myself, if you like, of not having

always thought as I think today. For too long did I believe in

hatred; the heat of battle led me on, and I have committed too

many crimes; I stirred up vengeance, and more than once the

sword was drawn as a result of my writings. Innocent people were

dragged here on my advice. This is my crime, my real crime,

and you are my partners in it. This is the crime I am today

expiating.

JUDGE. Whom are you referring to?

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. Whose death do you regret?

PHILIPPEAUX. Don't answer, Desmoulins!

FABRE D'EGLANTINE. It's a trap. Take care!

DANTON. Swallow your tongue, my boy!

CAMILLE. I refer to the Girondins. [_The People murmur, and_

DAVID _says: "He confesses!"_]

JUDGE. The prisoner confesses his implication in the Brissotist

conspiracies.

CAMILLE [_with a shrug_]. It was my _Brissot dévoilé_ which

condemned the Brissotists.

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. But now you regret it?

CAMILLE [_not answering_]. Oh, my colleagues! I say to you as

Brutus said to Cicero: "We fear death too much, and exile, and

poverty. _Nimium timemus mortem et exilium et paupertatem_."

Is life so dear that we should prolong it without honor? There

is not one of us who has not reached the very summit of the

mountain of life. We have before us the descent, which is

full of precipices, unavoidable even by the most obscure. The

descent has no pleasant landscapes to offer, no resting places

which were not a thousand times more delectable to that same

Solomon who declared, in all his glory and in the midst of his

seven hundred wives: "I find that the dead are happier than the

living, and that the happiest of men is he who was never born."

[_He sits down._]

DANTON. Fool! That speech of yours will cost us our heads! [_He

hisses_ DESMOULINS. _Some one comes to tell_ DANTON _that it is

his turn. He rises and faces the Court._]

JUDGE [_to_ DANTON]. Prisoner, your name, age, occupation, and

place of residence?

DANTON [_in a voice of thunder_]. My place of residence? Soon

the great void. My name? In the Pantheon. [_The People are

tense. They talk and appear to approve him; then suddenly they

become silent, as the Judge speaks._]

JUDGE. You know the law. Answer categorically.

DANTON. My name is Georges-Jacques Danton. I am thirty-three

years old, and a native of Arcis-sur-Aube. I am a solicitor. I

live in Paris at present, in the Hue des Cordeliers.

JUDGE. Danton, the National Convention accuses you of having

conspired with Mirabeau and Dumouriez, of having known their

plans for putting an end to our liberty, and of having secretly

aided and abetted them, [DANTON _roars with laughter. The Court,

the People, and even the prisoners stare at him, and then all

begin to laugh. The whole room vibrates with Homeric laughter._

DANTON _strikes the railing in front of him with his fist._]

DANTON [_still laughing_]. Liberty conspiring against Liberty!

Danton conspiring against Danton!--Scoundrels! Look me in the

eye! Liberty resides here! [_He puts his hands to his head._]

It is in this petrified mask of mine, it is in these eyes which

flame with volcanic fire; in this voice, the roar of which rocks

the palaces of tyrants to their foundations. Take my head, nail

it to the shield of the Republic, and it will, like Medusa, make

the enemies of Liberty fall dead from fright.

JUDGE. I am not asking for your panegyric, but for your defense.

DANTON. A man like me does not have to defend himself: my

actions speak for me. I have nothing to defend, nothing to

explain. I don't enshroud myself with all sorts of mysterious

things if I want to make love to an old woman--as Robespierre

does. My door is wide open, I have no curtains to my bed; all of

France knows when I drink and when I make love. I am a man of

the people; my virtues and vices are of the people; I conceal

nothing from them. I show myself to the world, and I have

nothing to be ashamed of.

JUDGE. Danton, your language is an insult to justice. The

low expressions you use indicate the baseness of your soul.

Moderation is the badge of innocence, and audacity that of crime.

DANTON. If audacity is a crime, I speak for crime. I kiss it,

and leave virtue to you, Judge: the lean kine of Pharaoh have no

attraction for me. I love audacity, and I am proud of it: the

audacity of a good hug. I love the huge breasts where heroes

suck. The Revolution is the daughter of audacity. Audacity is

what laid low the Bastille; through me, audacity urged the

people of Paris against royalty; audacity it was that urged me

to pick the severed head of Louis by its fat ears, and cast it

in the teeth of tyrants and their God! [_The People, in great

excitement, show their approval of_ DANTON.]

JUDGE. All this violence proves nothing. I have made specific

accusations against you, and I ask you to make specific replies,

adhering to the facts.

DANTON. Do you expect a revolutionary like me to make a

dignified answer? My soul is like bronze in a forge. The statue

of Liberty is being molded in my breast. Do you want to put me

into a squirrel's cage? Do you insist on putting me through

a cross-examination? Catechize me? Why, I would tear the net

you want to put around me to tatters; my belly would burst the

shirt! I am accused, you say! Where are my accusers? Let them

show themselves, and I will cover them with the opprobrium they

so richly deserve!

JUDGE. Again, Danton, you are lacking in respect toward the

representatives of the nation, toward the court and the

sovereign people who have a right to demand an account of your

actions. Marat was accused as you are accused. He did not become

violent. He did not answer facts with athletic exhibitions and

florid rhetoric. He tried to justify himself, and he succeeded.

I can offer you no more brilliant example.

DANTON. I shall then condescend to justify myself, and follow

Saint-Just's plan. When I look through this list of horrors, my

whole self shudders. I, sold to Mirabeau, Orléans, Dumouriez!

I always fought them! I frustrated Mirabeau's plans when I

considered them dangerous to the cause of Liberty. I defended

Marat against him. The only time I saw Dumouriez was to ask

him for an accounting of the millions that he had squandered.

I suspected his plans, and in order to spoil them, I flattered

him. Ought I to have ruined him, when the safety of the Republic

lay in his hands? Yes, I did send Fabre to him; yes, I did

promise to make him commander-in-chief; but at the same time I

told Billaud-Varenne to keep a strict watch over him. Am I to

be blamed because I lied to a traitor? I have committed many

another crime for the nation. You can't save a nation with petty

virtues. I would have shouldered any crime at all, if need

were, to save you--all of you, judges, people, even you vile

impostors who are now accusing me!? I conspire with royalty? Ah,

yes, indeed, I remember how I aided in establishing the royal

power on the tenth of August, the triumph of the federalists on

the thirty-first of May, and the victory of the Prussians at

Valmy! Bring forth my accusers! I have something to say to the

blackguards who are ruining the Republic! I have a few important

revelations to make. I demand a hearing.

JUDGE. These indecent outbursts can only harm your cause.

Those who accuse you enjoy the confidence of the public. Clear

yourself first: a man who is accused deserves no confidence

until he has washed himself clean of his accusations. It is not

only your Republicanism which is now in question; you have been

cited for evil living, debauchery, prodigality, and embezzlement.

DANTON. Not so fast! Stop the spigot of your flowing eloquence.

Let us have a few drops at a time, so that we may lose nothing.

So I am accused of loving life, enjoying it? Of course, I love

life. Not all the pedants of Arras and Geneva can put a stop to

the joy that ferments in the district of Champagne. It swells

on the vines and increases the desires of men. Shall I blush

because of my superabundant vitality? Nature gave me great

capacity and correspondingly great needs. I was fortunate enough

not to have sprung from an enfeebled and puny and privileged

race; and I have throughout my tempestuous career, preserved my

natural vigor intact. What have you to complain of? My vigor

has been your salvation. What do you care if I pass my nights

at the Palais-Royal? Not a single caress can harm the cause of

Liberty. I have enough love for everything. Have you proscribed

all pleasure? Has France made an oath of chastity? Have we all

fallen under the rule of a schoolmaster? Because an old fox has

lost his tail must we all lose ours? [_The People laugh_.]

JUDGE. You are accused of having kept part of the money

intrusted to you by the State. You have used secret moneys for

the satisfaction of your pleasures. You have levied on Belgium

and brought from Brussels three carriages full of plunder.

DANTON. I have already answered those absurd accusations. When I

was Minister under the Revolution, fifty millions were left to

me. I admit that. I offered to make a strict accounting of them.

Cambon gave me 40,000 livres for secret expenses. Half of this I

spent openly: I gave free rein to Fabre and to Billaud. I used

these funds to help the departments. As to that ridiculous tale

of the archduchess' napkins, which were brought from Belgium,

do you think me a handkerchief thief? My trunks were opened at

Bethune, and I was detained. They found only my own clothes,

and a swanskin corset. Does the corset outrage Robespierre's

modesty? Is that why I am accused?

JUDGE. The charge of embezzlement is proved by your prodigality

of the past two years. Your income was not sufficient, and you

must have taken State money.

DANTON. As a solicitor in the council, I bought a little

property near Arcis. I have assured my mother a small income,

also my father-in-law, and the good woman who brought me

up. These sums are no larger than was my income before the

Revolution. As for the life I led at Paris or at Arcis, possibly

I have riot confined my expenditures to the level of shameful

economy. I do not force my friends when they sup with me to

partake of the meager soup of Mère Duplay. I cannot stint myself

or my friends. Are you not ashamed to trifle with Danton about

how much he drinks or how much he eats? This nasty hypocrisy

is threatening to overwhelm the nation. It blushes for nature,

and hides its face at a real healthy thing. Its virtues are

but negative virtues. So long as a man has a weak stomach

and atrophied senses, lives on a little cheese and sleeps in

a narrow bed, you call him Incorruptible, and imagine that

that is sufficient to allow him to dispense with courage and

intelligence. I detest these anæmic virtues. Virtue means to be

great, for yourself and for the nation. When you have the honor

of holding a great man in your midst, don't begrudge him his

bread. All his needs, his passions, his capacity for sacrifice,

are built on a different plan from that of ordinary men.

Achilles used to eat the whole back of an ox at a single meal.

If Danton requires much to feed his furnace, let him have it

without a murmur. Here, in me, is the vast fire, the flames of

which protect you against prowling beasts that wait their chance

to spring at the throat of the Republic.

JUDGE. You therefore confess?

DANTON. You lie! I have just denied. I have lived freely,

honestly, carefully, on the money that was confided to me, but

I have not been miserly. I rendered to Danton the things that

were Danton's. Bring the witnesses I asked for, and we shall

clear up any misunderstandings. The accusations and answers

ought not to remain vague: nothing short of a categorical

discussion will bring this trial to an end. Where are the

witnesses? Why don't they come forth?

JUDGE. Your voice is tired, Danton: rest.

DANTON. Not at all! I can continue.

JUDGE. You may continue your justification shortly, and more

calmly.

DANTON [_furiously_]. I am calm! My witnesses! I have been

asking for them for the past three days! I have not yet seen a

single one. I ask the public prosecutor, before the assembled

audience, why justice is refused me?

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. I have no objection to their being summoned.

DANTON. Then bring them. Nothing can be done without your orders.

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. I allow the witnesses to be called, except,

of course, those designated by the prisoners as belonging to

the Convention; because the accusation is made by the whole

Assembly, and it would be ridiculous to insist that your own

accusers should be brought in to justify you, especially when

they are the representatives of the people, the guardians of the

highest power, accountable only to the people.

HÉRAULT. A good Jesuit trick! [_He and_ FABRE D'EGLANTINE

_laugh._]

DANTON. I see! My colleagues will be allowed to murder me, and I

shall not be permitted to bring confusion on my murderers!

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. You dare insult the national representatives!

PHILIPPEAUX. Are we here as a mere matter of form? Do you want

us to remain mute?

CAMILLE. People, you hear! They are afraid of the truth! They

fear the testimony that will confound them!

JUDGE. Address the court, and not the people.

PHILIPPEAUX. The people are our sole judges; you are nothing

without them.

CAMILLE. I ask the Convention!

DANTON. You want to gag us, but you cannot. My voice will stir

Paris to its very entrails. Light! Light!

JUDGE. Silence!

THE PEOPLE. The witnesses! [_The Judges become alarmed_.]

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. It is time to cease this scandalous

discussion; I shall write to the Convention of your

request: we will obey their command. [_The People applaud._

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE _and_ HERMAN _consult together, write the

request, and read in an undertone what they have written_.]

CAMILLE [_exultant_]. We have won our case!

DANTON. We'll confound the blackguards. You'll see them fall

into their own vileness head-first. If the French people are

what they ought to be, I shall be obliged to ask their pardon.

PHILIPPEAUX. Pardon from those who seek our death?

CAMILLE [_gaily_]. We shall appoint Saint-Just schoolmaster at

Blérancourt and Robespierre churchwarden at Saint-Omer.

HÉRAULT [_with a shrug_]. Incorrigible! They are on their way to

the guillotine, and they still hope!

DANTON. Idiots! To accuse Danton and Desmoulins of conspiring

against the Republic! So Barère is a patriot now, and Danton an

aristocrat. France won't be humbugged like that for very long!

[_To one of the Jury._] Do you think we are conspirators? See,

he smiles. He doesn't believe it.--Write that he laughed!

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE [_in the midst of his work_]. I beg you to

cease your personal conversations. It is against the law.

DANTON. Do you dare tell your father how to make children? I was

the one who organized this court; I ought to know how to behave

in it.

CAMILLE. I am beginning to take pleasure in life again. A moment

ago, everything was dark; I felt as if I were already in the

grave.

DANTON. It isn't that everything is light: you yourself have

changed. You didn't loom very large on the horizon.

CAMILLE. I am ashamed of my weakness. My flesh is feeble.

DANTON. You're a sly one! You wanted to become an object of

sympathy to the women! See that girl there making eyes at you!

HÉRAULT [_softly_]. My poor friends, I really pity you.

DANTON. Why, my handsome fellow?

HÉRAULT. You're selling the bear-skin, when your own is already

disposed of.

DANTON. My skin? Yes, I know, there are many who would like it.

Saint-Just especially. Well, let him come and take it, and if he

succeeds, let him make a rug of it.

HÉRAULT. Why bother? [_He shrugs his shoulders and lapses into

silence. Meanwhile,_ FOUQUIER-TINVILLE _has finished his letter,

which is taken out by a guard._]

JUDGE. While we await the Convention's answer, let us continue.

[_The gendarmes make the prisoners sit down again. He says to_

PHILIPPEAUX.] Your name and occupation?

PHILIPPEAUX. Pierre-Nicolas Philippeaux, former judge at Le

Mans, representative in the Convention.

JUDGE. Your age?

PHILIPPEAUX. Thirty-five.

JUDGE. You are charged with having paralyzed the national

defense, during your mission in La Vendée; you attempted to

throw the Committee of Public Safety into disrepute, by means

of insulting pamphlets; you were a conspirator with Danton and

Fabre in their attempt to restore the royalty.

PHILIPPEAUX. I exposed the indignation of the public against

the brigandage of certain generals. It was my duty, and I

accomplished it.

JUDGE. In this implacable struggle for France, your duty was

to do everything in your power to aid the nation. You tried to

hinder it.

PHILIPPEAUX. Ronsin and Rossignol are a dishonor to humanity.

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. You were not a representative of humanity,

but of the nation.

PHILIPPEAUX. My nation is humanity.

JUDGE. Did those you pitied, the Royalists who were crushed by

Rossignol, think of humanity?

PHILIPPEAUX. There is no excuse for crime.

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. Victory is.

PHILIPPEAUX. I accuse you.

CAMILLE. Before all the people, I denounce these infamies!

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE [_with a shrug_]. Let the people judge.

[_The People are divided: many applaud_ FOUQUIER-TINVILLE _and

converse among themselves_.]

DANTON [_aside to_ DESMOULINS]. Keep your mouth shut! You're

throwing stones in my garden.

CAMILLE [_astounded_]. How is that?

DANTON. I said what was necessary.

JUDGE [_to_ WESTERMANN]. Prisoner, stand up.

WESTERMANN. I? Well, forward march!

JUDGE. Your name?

WESTERMANN. You know my name very well.

JUDGE. Your name?

WESTERMANN [_with a shrug_]. Always mixing things up! Ask the

people!

JUDGE. You are François-Joseph Westermann, native of Alsace,

brigadier-general. You are forty-three years old. You were to

have been the sword of this conspiracy. Danton recalled you to

Paris to command the soldiers in the counter-revolution. You

committed atrocities in your army. You were the cause of the

defeat at Châtillon. Together with Philippeaux, you attempted to

kill the patriots whom it was your duty to defend. Your record

is very bad. You have been three times accused of theft.

WESTERMANN. You swine, you lie!

JUDGE. I shall have you sent back to your cell for insulting the

law, and try you without hearing your defense.

WESTERMANN. I was a soldier at the age of fifteen. On the tenth

of August I commanded the people when we took the Tuileries. I

fought at Jemmapes. Dumouriez deserted me in Holland, surrounded

by the enemy, and I brought my legion to Antwerp. Then I was

in La Vendée; I made trouble for the brigands of Charette and

Cathelineau. Savenay, Ancenis, and Le Mans are strewn with their

carcasses. So the damned pigs accuse me of being cruel? I was

more than that: I was ferocious toward cowards. Do you ask for

proofs against me? Here they are: I charged my cavalry through

our retreating soldiers at Pontorson. I slashed the face of a

cowardly officer at Châtillon. I would have burned my whole

army, if necessary, in order to be victorious. I pillaged, you

say? What has that to do with you? You are out of your minds.

I did my duty as a soldier: I'm not a shopkeeper. My duty was

to defend the _Patrie_ by every means; I have accomplished it

for the past thirty years, sparing neither my own sweat nor my

blood. I received seven wounds--not one in the back--or rather

the only one is my accusation.

JUDGE. You have often in the presence of witnesses, spoken

insultingly of the Convention. You have even threatened to pull

down the palace on the heads of the representatives.

WESTERMANN. Quite true. I hate that suspicious pack of spouters

who stop all action by their jealous stupidity. I said that the

Convention needed to be cleaned out and I offered to carry off

the manure.

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. Do you confess to having conspired?

WESTERMANN. What conspiracy are you talking about? I did my

own thinking, and my own doing. I am a friend of none of these

others. I've spoken occasionally to Danton, and I admire his

energy; but he's a lawyer, too, and I never trust lawyers.

France can't be saved by talk, but only by sabers.

JUDGE. That is enough. Your case is clear.

WESTERMANN. Send me to the guillotine! That at least is

something active--like a saber stroke. I only ask one thing:

put me on my back: I want to face the knife. [VADIER _and_

BILLAUD-VARENNE _enter._ FOUQUIER-TINVILLE _rises and shakes

hands with them_. _The People are excited.'_]

BILLAUD-VARENNE [_in an undertone_]. Scoundrels! We have them

now!

VADIER [_aside to_ FOUQUIER-TINVILLE]. This will, end matters.

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. It was high time. [_Deep agitation among the

People, who become silent._ FOUQUIER-TINVILLE _reads, standing,

with the other two at his side._] "The National Convention,

after having heard the report of the Committee of Public Safety

and Public Security, decrees that the Revolutionary Tribunal

shall continue the examination into the conspiracy of Danton and

his associates; that the Judge shall use every means accorded

him by law to impose respect and to put a stop to every effort

on the part of the prisoners to disturb the public dignity and

interfere with the course of justice, and that every prisoner

accused of conspiracy who shall resist or insult the national

justice shall be immediately withdrawn from the trial." [_The

People and the others are astonished. All at once the People

begin talking, then the prisoners, at first ill at ease, burst

out._]

CAMILLE. Infamous! They are gagging us!

PHILIPPEAUX. They are not judges, but butchers.

DANTON [_to_ FOUQUIER-TINVILLE] You have not read it all. There

is something else. The answer! The answer to our demand!

JUDGE. Silence!

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. The Convention communicates the following

letter, received by the Committees from the police department,

which shall be read in order that the court may understand the

perils besetting the cause of Liberty. [_Reads:_] "Commune of

Paris. We, the administrators of the police department, having

received a letter from the concierge of the Luxembourg prison,

immediately went to the said prison, and brought before us

Citizen Laflotte, former minister to the Republic of Florence,

who has been confined there for the past six days. He declared

to us that last night, between the hours of six and seven, as

he WAS in the room of Arthur Dillon, having taken the aforesaid

Dillon to one side, told him that it was necessary to resist

oppression, that the good men detained in the Luxembourg and

other prisons ought to join forces; that Desmoulins' wife had

placed a thousand écus at his disposal, in order to arouse the

people in the neighborhood of the Revolutionary Tribunal--"

CAMILLE [_furiously_]. The scoundrels! They are not satisfied

with murdering me! They are trying to murder my wife!

DANTON [_shaking his fist at_ FOUQUIER-TINVILLE]. Scoundrels,

scoundrels! They've invented this to ruin us! [_The People are

in a fury of indignation_.]

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE [_continuing, as he makes efforts to arouse

the interest of the audience_]--"Laflotte pretended to enter

into their plans in order to become better acquainted with

them. Dillon, believing that he had made a convert to his

infamous plot, told him of various plans. Laflotte declares his

willingness to reveal these details to the Committee of Public

Safety--" [_The People drown out his voice._]

CAMILLE [_raving like a madman_]. Monsters! [_He crumples the

papers in his hand and throws them at_ FOUQUIER-TINVILLE'S

_head. He says to the People:_] Help! Help!

DANTON [_roaring_]. Cowards! Cut-throats! Why not bind us to

these benches, and cut our throats!

PHILIPPEAUX. Tyranny!

DANTON. People, they are killing us--and you with us! They are

murdering Danton! Paris, arise! Arise! [_Two voices, at first,

then all the People shout:_ "_Tyranny!_"]

WESTERMANN. To arms! [_The People repeat:_ "_To arms!" A wild

uproar indoors and out._]

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE [_pale and frightened, to_ BILLAUD-VARENNE

_and_ VADIER]. What shall we do? The people may attack.

BILLAUD-VARENNE. Hanriot, clear the room.

VADIER. That would only incite them to battle, and who knows

which would be the stronger?

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE [_who has just looked out the window_]. They

are standing in crowds along the quay. They could force the

doors.

DANTON. People, we can do anything we will. We have triumphed

over kings and over the armies of Europe. To arms! Down with the

tyrants!

VADIER [_to_ FOUQUIER-TINVILLE]. First of all, send these

fellows back to prison, and get that spouter out of the way.

DANTON [_shaking his fist at_ VADIER]. Look at the cowardly

cut-throats. Vadier, Vadier! Dog, come here! If this is to be a

combat between cannibals, allow me at least to fight for my life!

VADIER [_to_ FOUQUIER-TINVILLE]. Prosecutor, carry out the

decree.

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. The unheard-of indecency which the prisoners

choose to employ as weapons of defense, the threats which they

are so impudent as to hurl at the Tribunal, must put an end to

the session. They force us to deal in like fashion under the

grave circumstances. I am therefore forced to ask that the

questions be asked and judgment passed in the absence of the

prisoners.

JUDGE. The court will deliberate. Take out the prisoners.

[DANTON _does not seem to have understood. He choices, roaring

like an animal._]

VADIER [_in an undertone_]. Cry, old fellow, your time has come!

HÉRAULT [_rising and dusting his coat_]. This is the end.

DANTON [_allowing himself to be led to his bench by the

gendarmes, and there falling in a heap. He suddenly pulls

himself together_]. Peace, Danton, peace. Our destinies are

being accomplished.

CAMILLE [_supplicating_]. I am a friend of Robespierre. You

can't condemn me.

WESTERMANN [_to_ DANTON]. Keep that idiot from dishonoring

himself.

DANTON [_in consternation_]. They are mad. Miserable country,

what will become of you without this leader?

HÉRAULT [_to_ DESMOULINS]. Come, my friends, let us show them we

know how to die.

DANTON. We have lived long enough to lay our heads on the breast

of glory. Let them take us to the scaffold!

CAMILLE. Oh, my wife! My son! Shall I never see you again? No, I

cannot. My friends, help me!

JUDGE. Take out the prisoners.

DANTON. Don't, don't; this miserable life is not worth

struggling for.

HÉRAULT [_as if in a hurry to have done with everything, goes_

to FABRE D'EGLANTINE, _without waiting for the gendarmes, who

take charge of the other prisoners_]. Give me your arm, my

friend; here at last is an end to your troubles.

FABRE D'EGLANTINE. We shall at least have enjoyed a splendid

performance.

DANTON. Well, Fabre, here is a play that is more impressive than

any you ever wrote--no offense, I hope?

FABRE D'EGLANTINE. You have not read my latest; there are some

good things in it. I tremble for fear Collot d'Herbois may

destroy the manuscript. He is jealous of me.

DANTON. Console yourself, we shall all do there what you did

here on earth.

FABRE D'EGLANTINE. What?

DANTON. Write poetry.

HÉRAULT. The Convention will be empty tomorrow. I yawn when I

think that our survivors will be condemned, on pain of death,

not to sleep through the speeches of Robespierre and Saint-Just,

of Saint-Just and of Robespierre.

DANTON. They will not listen very long. I have dug the grave,

and Robespierre will follow me.

FABRE D'EGLANTINE. I should like to have followed the

development of the character of some of these little rascals:

Barras, Talien, and Fouché. But I must not ask too much. Come,

Hérault. [_They go out._]

CAMILLE [_clinging to his bench, from which the gendarmes pull

him_]. I won't go! You will kill me in prison. Oh, People,

listen to me: it was I who made the Republic. Defend me!

I defended you! You won't take me from here, you monsters!

Cowards, murderers! Oh, Lucile! Horace! My dear ones! [_They

take him out._]

DANTON [_deeply stirred_]. I, too, have a wife and children.

[_Recovering his self-command._] Come, Danton, no weakness.

WESTERMANN [_to_ DANTON]. Why don't you take advantage of the

people's feelings? They are on the point of fighting.

DANTON. The pigs! Nonsense! Pigs! They enjoy our little

performance; they are there to applaud the victors. I've taught

them only too well to act for themselves.

WESTERMANN. Stir them up now!

DANTON. Too late. And what the devil do I care? The Republic

will fall, and I want to go before I see the end.

WESTERMANN. See what happened because you hesitated! Why didn't

you forestall Robespierre?

DANTON. The Revolution cannot exist with both of us. I could

never have defended myself without killing him. I prefer the

Revolution to myself. [WESTERMANN _goes out._]

PHILIPPEAUX. Come, Danton, it is some consolation to die as one

has lived.

DANTON. I committed every crime for the sake of Liberty. I

shouldered every task that the hypocrites shunned. I have

sacrificed everything for the Revolution. I now see it was all

in vain. The minx has played me false; and now she sacrifices

me, as she will sacrifice Robespierre tomorrow. She will take

up with the first adventurer who presents himself. Well, what

of it? I regret nothing; I love her, and I am glad I dishonored

myself for her sake. I pity the poor beggars who never embraced

her. When once you have been intimate with the divine strumpet,

you are ready to die, for you have lived. [_He goes out with_

PHILIPPEAUX.]

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. I ask the jury whether they have sufficient

instructions?

JUDGE. The jury will retire to deliberate. [_The Jury goes out.

The People shift restlessly about, undecided what to think or

do. Outside_ DANTON _is? heard, and the shouting of the crowds.

They rush to, the windows. Some of the court also look out.

Those who are in the hall, repeat what is said outside, at first

in undertones, then loudly_.]

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. The riot is beginning. We'll be torn to

pieces.

VADIER. Don't allow the shouting to influence the jury. Go and

tell them. [_They go out. The People shout angrily at_ VADIER

_and_ FOUQUIER-TINVILLE, _who enter the jury-room_.]

JUDGE [_terror-stricken_]. Citizens, the dignity of the

Tribunal--Respect for justice--[_The shouting drowns out his

last words._] They are coming! We shall all be massacred! [_He

shrinks toward the door, where he takes hold of the knob. The

People, in fury, tear up benches and throw them toward the

judges' benches, shouting threats of death. Enter_; SAINT-JUST.

_The People are somewhat intimidated, and are silent._

SAINT-JUST _looks at them, coldly, and they fall back. There is

dead silence for a few seconds, then murmurs are heard here and

there._ VADIER _enters a moment after, and takes advantage of

the calm to speak._]

VADIER. Citizens, the Committee on Provisions and Necessities

[_the People are silent_] takes this occasion to announce to

the public the arrival of a large amount of grain and wood

at the port of Bercy. [_A great clamor arises. People jostle

one another in a wild attempt to leave the hall. After a few

moments, only a small knot of curious onlookers remain._ VADIER

_casts a glance of irony at the People_.] Their hearts are good,

but their stomachs better. [_The Jury reenters. The monotony of

the Judge's questions is drowned by the last stragglers. The

noise outside gradually subsides, and_ HERMAN'S _voice becomes

more distinct. Sentence is passed in a death-like silence_.]

JUDGE. Jurymen citizens, there was a conspiracy which was

to have brought dishonor upon the national representatives,

re-established the monarchy, and through corruption destroy the

Republican government. Is Georges-Jacques Danton, solicitor,

Deputy to the National Convention, guilty of conspiracy against

the Republic?

THE HEAD OF THE JURY. He is.

JUDGE. Is Lucie-Simplice-Camille Desmoulins, solicitor, Deputy

to the Convention, guilty of conspiring against the Republic?

THE HEAD OF THE JURY. He is.

JUDGE. Is Philippe-François-Nazaire Fabre, known as Fabre

d'Eglantine, Deputy to the Convention, guilty of conspiring

against the Republic?

THE HEAD OF THE JURY. He is.

JUDGE. Is Pierre-Nicolas Philippeaux, former judge, and Deputy

to the Convention, guilty of conspiring against the Republic?

THE HEAD OF THE JURY. He is.

JUDGE. Is Marie-Jean Hérault-Séchelles, attorney general, and

Deputy to the Convention, guilty of conspiring against the

Republic?

THE HEAD OF THE JURY. He is.

JUDGE. Is Francis-Joseph Westermann, brigadier-general, guilty

of conspiring against the Republic?

THE HEAD OF THE JURY. He is.

FOUQUIER-TINVILLE. I demand the application of the law.

JUDGE. Then the Tribunal condemns Georges-Jacques Danton,

Lucie-Simplice-Camille Desmoulins, Marie-Jean Hérault-Séchelles,

Philippe-François-Nazaire Fabre, known as Fabre d'Eglantine,

Pierre-Nicolas Philippeaux, and François-Joseph Westermann, to

the death penalty. The Tribunal commands that this sentence

be communicated to them between the two wickets of the

_Conciergerie_ by the clerk of the Tribunal, and that they

be executed today, the sixteenth of Germinal, in the Place

de la Révolution. [_The People file out. Outside, the clamor

becomes more and more indistinct._--SAINT-JUST, VADIER, _and_

BILLAUD-VARENNE _look at each other in silence_.]

VADIER. The rotten colossus at last laid low! The Republic can

now draw a free breath.

BILLAUD-VARENNE [_looking at_ SAINT-JUST--_fiercely_] The

Republic will never be free until her dictators have disappeared.

SAINT-JUST [_looking straight at_ VADIER _and_ BILLAUD-VARENNE]

The Republic will never be pure until the vultures are no more.

VADIER [_banteringly_]. The Republic will never be free or pure

until the Republic is no more!

SAINT-JUST. Ideas do not need men. Peoples pass away in order

that God may live.

END