sweet, though mournful.
But why thy brow o’ercast, thy cheek so wan?
Thou look’st as a lorn maid beside some stream
That sighs away the soul in fond despairing,
While sorrow sad, like the dank willow near her,
Hangs o’er the troubled fountain of her eye.
| Adelaide |
Ah! rather let me ask what mystery lowers
On Tallien’s darken’d brow. Thou dost me wrong—
Thy soul distemper’d, can my heart be tranquil?
|
| Tallien |
Tell me, by whom thy brother’s blood was spilt?
Asks he not vengeance on these patriot murderers?
It has been borne too tamely. Fears and curses
Groan on our midnight beds, and e’en our dreams
Threaten the assassin hand of Robespierre.
He dies!—nor has the plot escaped his fears.
|
| Adelaide |
Yet—yet—be cautious! much I fear the Commune—
The tyrant’s creatures, and their fate with his
Fast link’d in close indissoluble union.
The pale Convention—
|
| Tallien |
Hate him as they fear him,
Impatient of the chain, resolv’d and ready.
|
| Adelaide |
Th’ enthusiast mob, confusion’s lawless sons—
|
| Tallien |
They are aweary of his stern morality,
The fair-mask’d offspring of ferocious pride.
The sections too support the delegates:
All—all is ours! e’en now the vital air
Of Liberty, condens’d awhile, is bursting
(Force irresistible!) from its compressure—
To shatter the arch chemist in the explosion!
|
|
Enter Billaud Varennes and Bourdon l’Oise.
Adelaide retires.
|
| Bourdon l’Oise |
Tallien! was this a time for amorous conference?
Henriot, the tyrant’s most devoted creature,
Marshals the force of Paris: The fierce Club,
With Vivier at their head, in loud acclaim
Have sworn to make the guillotine in blood
Float on the scaffold.—But who comes here?
|
|
Enter Barrere abruptly. |
| Barrere |
Say, are ye friends to freedom? I am hers!
Let us, forgetful of all common feuds,
Rally around her shrine! E’en now the tyrant
Concerts a plan of instant massacre!
|
| Billaud Varennes |
Away to the Convention! with that voice
So oft the herald of glad victory,
Rouse their fallen spirits, thunder in their ears
The names of tyrant, plunderer, assassin!
The violent workings of my soul within
Anticipate the monster’s blood! Cry from the street of—No Tyrant! Down with the Tyrant!
|
| Tallien |
Hear ye that outcry?—If the trembling members
Even for a moment hold his fate suspended,
I swear by the holy poniard, that stabbed Caesar,
This dagger probes his heart! Exeunt omnes.
|
Act II
Scene—The Convention.
| Robespierre |
Mounts the tribune.
Once more befits it that the voice of Truth,
Fearless in innocence, though leaguered round
By Envy and her hateful brood of hell,
Be heard amid this hall; once more befits
The patriot, whose prophetic eye so oft
Has pierced thro’ faction’s veil, to flash on crimes
Of deadliest import. Mouldering in the grave
Sleeps Capet’s caitiff corse; my daring hand
Levelled to earth his blood-cemented throne,
My voice declared his guilt, and stirred up France
To call for vengeance. I too dug the grave
Where sleep the Girondists, detested band!
Long with the show of freedom they abused
Her ardent sons. Long time the well-turn’d phrase,
The high-fraught sentence and the lofty tone
Of declamation, thunder’d in this hall,
Till reason midst a labyrinth of words
Perplex’d, in silence seem’d to yield assent.
I durst oppose. Soul of my honoured friend,
Spirit of Marat, upon thee I call—
Thou know’st me faithful, know’st with what warm zeal
I urg’d the cause of justice, stripp’d the mask
From faction’s deadly visage, and destroy’d
Her traitor brood. Whose patriot arm hurl’d down
Hébert and Rousin, and the villain friends
Of Danton, foul apostate! those, who long
Mask’d treason’s form in liberty’s fair garb,
Long deluged France with blood, and durst defy
Omnipotence! but I it seems am false!
I am a traitor too! I—Robespierre!
I—at whose name the dastard despot brood
Look pale with fear, and call on saints to help them!
Who dares accuse me? who shall dare belie
My spotless name? Speak, ye accomplice band,
Of what am I accus’d? of what strange crime
Is Maximilian Robespierre accus’d,
That through this hall the buz of discontent
Should murmur? who shall speak?
|
| Billaud Varennes |
O patriot tongue
Belying the foul heart! Who was it urg’d
Friendly to tyrants that accurst decree,
Whose influence brooding o’er this hallowed hall,
Has chill’d each tongue to silence? Who destroyed
The freedom of debate, and carried through
The fatal law, that doom’d the delegates,
Unheard before their equals, to the bar
Where cruelty sat throned, and murder reign’d
With her Dumas coequal? Say—thou man
Of mighty eloquence, whose law was that?
|
| Couthon |
That law was mine. I urged it—I propos’d—
The voice of France assembled in her sons
Assented, though the tame and timid voice
Of traitors murmur’d. I advis’d that law—
I justify it. It was wise and good.
|
| Barrere |
Oh, wonderous wise and most convenient too!
I have long mark’d thee, Robespierre—and now
Proclaim thee traitor tyrant! Loud applauses.
|
| Robespierre |
It is well.
I am a traitor! oh, that I had fallen
When Regnault lifted high the murderous knife,
Regnault the instrument belike of those
Who now themselves would fain assassinate,
And legalise their murders. I stand here
An isolated patriot—hemmed around
By faction’s noisy pack; beset and bay’d
By the foul hellhounds who know no escape
From Justice’ outstretch’d arm, but by the force
That pierces through her breast. Murmurs, and shouts of—Down with the Tyrant!
|
| Robespierre |
Nay, but I will be heard. There was a time
When Robespierre began, the loud applauses
Of honest patriots drown’d the honest sound.
But times are chang’d, and villainy prevails.
|
| Collot d’Herbois |
No—villainy shall fall. France could not brook
A monarch’s sway—sounds the dictator’s name
More soothing to her ear?
|
| Bourdon l’Oise |
Rattle her chains
More musically now than when the hand
Of Brissot forged her fetters; or the crew
Of Hébert thundered out their blasphemies,
And Danton talk’d of virtue?
|
| Robespierre |
Oh, that Brissot
Were here again to thunder in this hall,
That Hébert lived, and Danton’s giant form
Scowl’d once again defiance! so my soul
Might cope with worthy foes.
People of France,
Hear me! Beneath the vengeance of the law
Traitors have perish’d countless; more survive:
The hydra-headed faction lifts anew
Her daring front, and fruitful from her wounds,
Cautious from past defects, contrives new wiles
Against the sons of Freedom.
|
| Tallien |
Freedom lives!
Oppression falls—for France has felt her chains,
Has burst them too. Who traitor-like stepped forth
Amid the hall of Jacobins to save
Camille Desmoulins, and the venal wretch
D’Eglantine?
|
| Robespierre |
I did—for I thought them honest.
And Heaven forefend that Vengeance e’er should strike,
Ere justice doom’d the blow.
|
| Barrere |
Traitor, thou didst.
Yes, the accomplice of their dark designs,
Awhile didst thou defend them,
|
