SCENE--The Thuilleries.
Barrere. The tempest gathers--be it mine to
seek
A friendly shelter, ere it bursts upon him.
But where? and how? I fear the Tyrant's soul--
Sudden in action, fertile in resource,
And rising awful 'mid impending ruins;
In splendor gloomy, as the midnight meteor,
That fearless thwarts the elemental war.
When last in secret conference we met,
He scowl'd upon me with suspicious rage,
10 Making his eye the inmate of my bosom.
I know he scorns me--and I feel, I hate him--
Yet there is in him that which makes me tremble!
[Exit.
Enter TALLIEN and LEGENDRE.
Tallien. It was Barrere, Legendre! didst thou
mark him?
Abrupt he turn'd, yet linger'd as he went,
And towards us cast a look of doubtful meaning.
Legendre. I mark'd him well. I met his eye's last
glance;
It menac'd not so proudly as of yore.
Methought he would have spoke--but that he
dar'd not--
Such agitation darken'd on his brow.
20 Tallien. 'Twas all-distrusting guilt that kept from bursting
Th' imprison'd secret struggling in the face:
E'en as the sudden breeze upstarting onwards
Hurries the thundercloud, that pois'd awhile
Hung in mid air, red with its mutinous burthen.
Legendre. Perfidious Traitor!--still afraid to bask
In the full blaze of power, the rustling serpent
Lurks in the thicket of the Tyrant's greatness,
Ever prepared to sting who shelters him.
Each thought, each action in himself converges;
30 And love and friendship on his coward heart
Shine like the powerless sun on polar ice;
To all attach'd, by turns deserting all,
Cunning and dark--a necessary villain!
Tallien. Yet much depends upon him--well you
know
With plausible harangue 'tis his to paint
Defeat like victory--and blind the mob
With truth-mix'd falsehood. They led on by him,
And wild of head to work their own destruction,
Support with uproar what he plans in darkness.
40 Legendre. O what a precious name is Liberty
To scare or cheat the simple into slaves!
Yes--we must gain him over: by dark hints
We'll shew enough to rouse his watchful fears,
Till the cold coward blaze a patriot.
O Danton! murder'd friend! assist my counsels--
Hover around me on sad Memory's wings,
And pour thy daring vengeance in my heart.
Tallien! if but tomorrow's fateful sun
Beholds the Tyrant living--we are dead!
50 Tallien. Yet his keen eye that flashes mighty meanings--
Legendre. Fear not--or rather fear th'
alternative,
And seek for courage e'en in cowardice--
But see--hither he comes--let us away!
His brother with him, and the bloody Couthon,
And high of haughty spirit, young St. Just.
[Exeunt.
Enter ROBESPIERRE, COUTHON, ST. JUST, and ROBESPIERRE JUNIOR.
Robespierre. What? did La Fayette fall before
my power?
And did I conquer Roland's spotless virtues?
The fervent eloquence of Vergniaud's tongue?
And Brissot's thoughtful soul unbribed and bold?
60 Did zealot armies haste in vain to save them?
What! did th' assassin's dagger aim its point
Vain, as a dream of murder, at my bosom?
And shall I dread the soft luxurious Tallien?
Th' Adonis Tallien? banquet-hunting Tallien?
Him, whose heart flutters at the dice-box? Him,
Who ever on the harlots' downy pillow
Resigns his head impure to feverish slumbers!
St. Just. I cannot fear him--yet we must not
scorn him.
Was it not Antony that conquer'd Brutus,
70 Th' Adonis, banquet-hunting Antony?
The state is not yet purified: and though
The stream runs clear, yet at the bottom lies
The thick black sediment of all the factions--
It needs no magic hand to stir it up!
Couthon. O we did wrong to spare them--fatal error!
Why lived Legendre, when that Danton died?
And Collot d'Herbois dangerous in crimes?
I've fear'd him, since his iron heart endured
To make of Lyons one vast human shambles.
80 Compar'd with which the sun-scorcht wilderness
Of Zara were a smiling paradise.
St. Just. Rightly thou judgest, Couthon! He is one
Who flies from silent solitary anguish,
Seeking forgetful peace amid the jar
Of elements. The howl of maniac uproar
Lulls to sad sleep the memory of himself.
A calm is fatal to him--then he feels
The dire upboilings of the storm within him.
A tiger mad with inward wounds!--I dread
90 The fierce and restless turbulence of guilt.
Robespierre. Is not the Commune ours? The
stern tribunal?
Dumas? and Vivier? Fleuriot? and Louvet?
And Henriot? We'll denounce an hundred, nor
Shall they behold to-morrow's sun roll westward.
Robespierre Junior.Nay--I am sick of blood; my aching
heart
Reviews the long, long train of hideous horrors
That still have gloom'd the rise of the Republic.
I should have died before Toulon, when war
Became the patriot!
Robespierre. Most
unworthy wish!
100 He, whose heart sickens at the blood of traitors,
Would be himself a traitor, were he not
A coward! 'Tis congenial souls alone
Shed tears of sorrow for each other's fate.
O thou art brave, my brother! and thine eye
Full firmly shines amid the groaning battle--
Yet in thine heart the woman-form of pity
Asserts too large a share, an ill-timed guest!
There is unsoundness in the state----To-morrow
Shall see it cleans'd by wholesome massacre!
110 Robespierre Junior. Beware! already do the sections
murmur--
'O the great glorious patriot, Robespierre--
The tyrant guardian of the country's freedom!'
Couthon. 'Twere folly sure to work great deeds
by halves.
Much I suspect the darksome fickle heart
Of cold Barrere!
Robespierre. I see
the villain in him!
Robespierre Junior. If he--if all forsake
thee--what remains?
Robespierre. Myself! the steel-strong
Rectitude of soul
And Poverty sublime 'mid circling virtues!
The giant Victories my counsels form'd
120 Shall stalk around me with sun-glittering plumes,
Bidding the darts of calumny fall pointless.
[Exeunt caeteri. Manet COUTHON.
Couthon (solus). So we deceive ourselves! What
goodly virtues
Bloom on the poisonous branches of ambition!
Still, Robespierre! thou'lt guard thy country's
freedom
To despotize in all the patriot's pomp.
While Conscience, 'mid the mob's applauding
clamours,
Sleeps in thine ear, nor whispers--blood-stain'd
tyrant!
Yet what is Conscience? Superstition's dream,
Making such deep impression on our sleep--
130 That long th' awakened breast retains its horrors!
But he returns--and with him comes
Barrere. [Exit COUTHON.
Enter ROBESPIERRE and BARRERE.
Robespierre. There is no danger but in
cowardice.--
Barrere! we make the danger, when we fear it.
We have such force without, as will suspend
The cold and trembling treachery of these members.
Barrere. 'Twill be a pause of terror.--
Robespierre.
But to whom?
Rather the short-lived slumber of the tempest,
Gathering its strength anew. The dastard traitors!
Moles, that would undermine the rooted oak!
140 A pause!--a moment's pause?--'Tis all their life.
Barrere. Yet much they talk--and plausible their
speech.
Couthon's decree has given such power, that--
Robespierre.
That what?
Barrere. The freedom of debate--
Robespierre.
Transparent
mask!
They wish to clog the wheels of government,
Forcing the hand that guides the vast machine
To bribe them to their duty--English patriots!
Are not the congregated clouds of war
Black all around us? In our very vitals
Works not the king-bred poison of rebellion?
150 Say, what shall counteract the selfish plottings
Of wretches, cold of heart, nor awed by fears
Of him, whose power directs th' eternal justice?
Terror? or secret-sapping gold?
The first Heavy, but transient as the ills that
cause it;
And to the virtuous patriot rendered light
By the necessities that gave it birth:
The other fouls the fount of the republic,
Making it flow polluted to all ages:
Inoculates the state with a slow venom,
160 That once imbibed must be continued ever.
Myself incorruptible I ne'er could bribe them--
Therefore they hate me.
Barrere.
Are the sections
friendly?
Robespierre. There are who wish my ruin--but
I'll make them
Blush for the crime in blood!
Barrere.
Nay--but I tell thee,
Thou art too fond of slaughter--and the right
(If right it be) workest by most foul means!
Robespierre. Self-centering Fear! how well thou
canst ape Mercy!
Too fond of slaughter!--matchless hypocrite!
Thought Barrere so, when Brissot, Danton died?
170 Thought Barrere so, when through the streaming streets
Of Paris red-eyed Massacre o'erwearied
Reel'd heavily, intoxicate with blood?
And when (O heavens!) in Lyons' death-red square
Sick Fancy groan'd o'er putrid hills of slain,
Didst thou not fiercely laugh, and bless the day?
Why, thou hast been the mouth-piece of all
horrors,
And, like a blood-hound, crouch'd for murder! Now
Aloof thou standest from the tottering pillar,
Or, like a frighted child behind its mother,
180 Hidest thy pale face in the skirts of--Mercy!
Barrere. O prodigality of eloquent anger!
Why now I see thou'rt weak--thy case is
desperate!
The cool ferocious Robespierre turn'd scolder!
Robespierre. Who from a bad man's bosom
wards the blow
Reserves the whetted dagger for his own.
Denouncéd twice--and twice I saved his life!
[Exit.
Barrere. The sections will support them--there's
the point!
No! he can never weather out the storm--
Yet he is sudden in revenge--No more!
190 I must away to Tallien.
[Exit.
SCENE changes to the house of ADELAIDE.
ADELAIDE enters, speaking to a Servant.
Adelaide. Didst thou present the letter that I
gave thee?
Did Tallien answer, he would soon return?
Servant. He is in the Thuilleries--with him
Legendre--
In deep discourse they seem'd: as I approach'd
He waved his hand as bidding me retire:
I did not interrupt him.
[Returns the letter.
Adelaide. Thou didst rightly.
[Exit Servant.
O this new freedom! at how dear a price
We've bought the seeming good! The peaceful
virtues
And every blandishment of private life,
200 The father's cares, the mother's fond endearment,
All sacrificed to liberty's wild riot.
The wingèd hours, that scatter'd roses round me,
Languid and sad drag their slow course along,
And shake big gall-drops from their heavy wings.
But I will steal away these anxious thoughts
By the soft languishment of warbled airs,
If haply melodies may lull the sense
Of sorrow for a while.
[Soft music.
Enter TALLIEN.
Tallien. Music, my love? O breathe again that air!
210 Soft nurse of pain, it soothe the weary soul
Of care, sweet as the whisper'd breeze of evening
That plays around the sick man's throbbing
temples.
SONG
Tell me, on what holy ground
May domestic peace be found?
Halcyon daughter of the skies,
Far on fearful wing she flies,
From the pomp of scepter'd state,
From the rebel's noisy hate.
In a cottag'd vale she dwells
220 List'ning to the Sabbath bells!
Still around her steps are seen,
Spotless honor's meeker mien,
Love, the sire of pleasing fears,
Sorrow smiling through her tears,
And conscious of the past employ,
Memory, bosom-spring of joy.
Tallien. I thank thee, Adelaide! 'twas sweet,
though mournful.
But why thy brow o'ercast, thy cheek so wan?
Thou look'st as a lorn maid beside some stream
230 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
240 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.
250 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
260 Float on the scaffold.--But who comes here?
Enter BARRERE abruptly.
Barrere. Say, are ye friends to freedom? I am
her's!
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
270 Anticipate the monster's blood!