A Place of Greater Safety. Hilary Mantel
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a slip of paper. Mirabeau takes it from him in passing and puts it in his pocket.]
MIRABEAU: Forget Necker. Everybody will, anyway. Return to the point. It seems, then, that the Clergy are our best hope. If we can persuade them to join us …
[At. 3.15 he takes the slip of paper out of his pocket.]
MIRABEAU: De Robespierre. Yes, it is a peculiar name … Now, everything depends on those nineteen priests. I must have a speech that will not only invite them to join us, but will inspire them to join us – no commonplace speech, but a great speech. A speech that will set their interest and duty plainly before them.
DUROVERAY: And one that will cover the name of Mirabeau in eternal glory, just by the way.
MIRABEAU: There is that.
[Teutch comes in.]
MIRABEAU: Oh, good heavens, am I to endure you walking in and out and slamming the door every two minutes? Is M. de Robepierre still here?
TEUTCH: Yes, Monsieur.
MIRABEAU: How very patient he must be. I wish I had that kind of patience. Well, make the good deputy a cup of chocolate, Teutch, out of your Christian charity, and tell him I will see him soon.
[4.30 a.m. Mirabeau talks. Occasionally he pauses in front of a mirror to try out the effect of a gesture. M. Dumont has fallen asleep.]
MIRABEAU: M. de Robinpère still here?
[5.00 a.m. The leonine brow clears.]
MIRABEAU: My thanks, my thanks to you all. How can I ever thank you enough? The combination, my dear Duroveray, of your erudition, my dear Dumont, of your – snores – of all your singular talents, welded together by my own genius as an orator –
[Teutch sticks his head around the door.]
TEUTCH: Finished, have you? He’s still here, you know.
MIRABEAU: Our great work is concluded. Bring him in, bring him in.
[Dawn is breaking behind the head of the deputy from Arras as he steps into the stuffy little room. The tobacco smoke stings his eyes. He feels at a disadvantage, because his clothes are creased and his gloves are soiled; he should have gone home to change. Mirabeau, in greater disarray, examines him – young, anaemic, tired. De Robespierre has to concentrate to smile, holding out a small hand with bitten nails. Bypassing the hand, Mirabeau touches him lightly on the shoulder.]
MIRABEAU: My dear M. Robispère, take a seat. Oh – is there one?
DE ROBESPIERRE: That’s all right, I’ve been sitting for quite a time.
MIRABEAU: Yes, I’m sorry about that. The pressure of business …
DE ROBESPIERRE: That’s all right.
MIRABEAU: I’m sorry. I try to be available to any deputy who wants me.
DE ROBESPIERRE: I really won’t keep you long.
[Stop apologising, Mirabeau says to himself. He doesn’t mind; he’s just said he doesn’t mind.]
MIRABEAU: Is there anything in particular, M. de Robertspierre?
[The deputy takes some folded papers from his pocket. He hands them to Mirabeau.]
DE ROBESPIERRE: This is the text of a speech I hope to make tomorrow. I wondered if you’d look at it, give me your comments? Though it’s rather long, I know, and you probably want to go to bed …?
MIRABEAU: Of course I’ll look at it. It’s really no trouble. The subject of your speech, M. de Robespère?
DE ROBESPIERRE: My speech invites the Clergy to join the Third Estate.
[Mirabeau wheels round. His fist closes on the papers. Duroveray puts his head in his hands and groans unobtrusively. But when the Comte turns again to face de Robespierre, his features are composed and his voice is like satin.]
MIRABEAU: M. de Robinpère, I must congratulate you. You have fixed on the very point which should occupy us tomorrow. We must ensure the success of this proposal, must we not?
DE ROBESPIERRE: Certainly.
MIRABEAU: But does it occur to you that other members of our assembly might have fixed on the same point?
DE ROBESPIERRE: Well, yes, it would be odd if no one had. That’s why I came to see you, I imagined you knew the plans, we don’t want a stream of people all getting up and saying the same thing.
MIRABEAU: It may reassure you to know that I have myself been drafting a little speech which touches on the topic. [Mirabeau speaks; he also reads.] May I suggest that the question might be better propounded by some person well-known to our fellow-deputies, some orator of experience? The Clergy may be less inclined to listen to someone who has yet – what shall we say? – who has yet to reveal his remarkable talents.
DE ROBESPIERRE: Reveal? We’re not conjurers, Monsieur. We’re not here to pull rabbits out of hats.
MIRABEAU: Don’t be too sure.
DE ROBESPIERRE: Always supposing that one had remarkable talents, could there be a better time to reveal them?
MIRABEAU: I understand your viewpoint, but I suggest on this occasion you give way, for the common good. You see, I can be sure of carrying my audience with me. Sometimes when a famous name allies himself with a cause –
[Mirabeau stops abruptly. He can see on the young man’s delicate triangular face the pale traces of contempt. Yet his voice is still deferential.]
DE ROBESPIERRE: My speech is quite a good speech, it makes all the relevant points.
MIRABEAU: Yes, but it is the speaker – I tell you frankly, M. de Robertpère, that I have spent the whole night working on my speech, and I intend to deliver it, and in all possible cordiality and friendship I must ask you to find another occasion for your debut, or else to confine yourself to a few words in my support.
DE ROBESPIERRE: No, I’m not prepared to do that.
MIRABEAU: Oh, you aren’t prepared? [He sees with pleasure that the deputy flinches when he raises his voice.] It is I who carry weight at our meetings. You are unknown. They will not even suspend their private conversations to listen to you. Look at this speech, it is prolix, it is overblown, you will be howled down.
DE ROBESPIERRE: There’s no point trying to frighten me. [Not a boast. Mirabeau scrutinizes him. Experience has taught him he can frighten most people.] Look, I’m not trying to stop you making your speech. If you must, you make yours, then I’ll make mine.
MIRABEAU: But God damn you, man, they say exactly the same thing.
DE ROBESPIERRE: I know – but I thought that since you have a name as a demagogue, they might not quite trust you.
MIRABEAU: Demagogue?
DE ROBESPIERRE: Politician.
MIRABEAU: And what are you?
DE ROBESPIERRE: Just an ordinary person.
[The Comte’s face purples, and he runs a hand through his hair, making it stand up like a bush.]
MIRABEAU: You will make yourself a laughing-stock.
DE ROBESPIERRE: Let me worry about that.
MIRABEAU: You’re used to it, I suppose.
[He turns his back. Through the mirror, Duroveray wavers into life.]
DUROVERAY: May one suggest a compromise?
DE ROBESPIERRE: No. I offered him a compromise, and he rejected it.
[There is a silence. Into it, the Comte sighs heavily. Take hold of yourself, Mirabeau, he advises. Now. Conciliate.]
MIRABEAU: M. de Robinspère, this has all been a misunderstanding. We mustn’t quarrel.
[De