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Seen thy foul projects. Yes, ambitious man, 100

       Self-will’d dictator o’er the realm of France,

       The vengeance thou hast plann’d for patriots

       Falls on thy head. Look how thy brother’s deeds

       Dishonour thine! He the firm patriot,

       Thou the foul parricide of Liberty! 105

      Robespierre Junior. Barrere — attempt not meanly to divide

       Me from my brother. I partake his guilt,

       For I partake his virtue.

      Robespierre. Brother, by my soul,

       More dear I hold thee to my heart, that thus

       With me thou dar’st to tread the dangerous path 110

       Of virtue, than that Nature twined her cords

       Of kindred round us.

      Barrere. Yes, allied in guilt,

       Even as in blood ye are. O, thou worst wretch,

       Thou worse than Sylla! hast thou not proscrib’d,

       Yea, in most foul anticipation slaughter’d 115

       Each patriot representative of France?

      Bourdon l’Oise. Was not the younger Caesar too to reign

       O’er all our valiant armies in the south,

       And still continue there his merchant wiles?

      Robespierre Junior. His merchant wiles! Oh, grant me patience,

       heaven! 120

       Was it by merchant wiles I gain’d you back

       Toulon, when proudly on her captive towers

       Wav’d high the English flag? or fought I then

       With merchant wiles, when sword in hand I led

       Your troops to conquest? fought I merchant-like, 125

       Or barter’d I for victory, when death

       Strode o’er the reeking streets with giant stride,

       And shook his ebon plumes, and sternly smil’d

       Amid the bloody banquet? when appall’d

       The hireling sons of England spread the sail 130

       Of safety, fought I like a merchant then?

       Oh, patience! patience!

      Bourdon l’Oise. How this younger tyrant

       Mouths out defiance to us! even so

       He had led on the armies of the south,

       Till once again the plains of France were drench’d 135

       With her best blood.

      Collot d’Herbois. Till once again display’d

       Lyons’ sad tragedy had call’d me forth

       The minister of wrath, whilst slaughter by

       Had bathed in human blood.

      Dubois Crancé. No wonder, friend,

       That we are traitors — that our heads must fall 140

       Beneath the axe of death! when Caesar-like

       Reigns Robespierre, ‘tis wisely done to doom

       The fall of Brutus. Tell me, bloody man,

       Hast thou not parcell’d out deluded France,

       As it had been some province won in fight, 145

       Between your curst triumvirate? You, Couthon,

       Go with my brother to the southern plains;

       St. Just, be yours the army of the north;

       Meantime I rule at Paris.

      Robespierre. Matchless knave!

       What — not one blush of conscience on thy cheek — 150

       Not one poor blush of truth! most likely tale!

       That I who ruined Brissot’s towering hopes,

       I who discover’d Hébert’s impious wiles,

       And sharp’d for Danton’s recreant neck the axe,

       Should now be traitor! had I been so minded, 155

       Think ye I had destroyed the very men

       Whose plots resembled mine? bring forth your proofs

       Of this deep treason. Tell me in whose breast

       Found ye the fatal scroll? or tell me rather

       Who forg’d the shameless falsehood?

      Collot d’Herbois. Ask you proofs? 160

       Robespierre, what proofs were ask’d when Brissot died?

      Legendre. What proofs adduced you when the Danton died?

       When at the imminent peril of my life

       I rose, and fearless of thy frowning brow,

       Proclaim’d him guiltless?

      Robespierre. I remember well 165

       The fatal day. I do repent me much

       That I kill’d Caesar and spar’d Antony.

       But I have been too lenient. I have spared

       The stream of blood, and now my own must flow

       To fill the current. [Loud applauses.

       Triumph not too soon, 170

       Justice may yet be victor.

      Enter ST. JUST, and mounts the Tribune.

      St. Just. I come from the Committee — charged to speak

       Of matters of high import. I omit

       Their orders. Representatives of France,

       Boldly in his own person speaks St. Just 175

       What his own heart shall dictate.

      Tallien. Hear ye this,

       Insulted delegates of France? St. Just

       From your Committee comes — comes charg’d to speak

       Of matters of high import, yet omits

       Their orders! Representatives of France, 180

       That bold man I denounce, who disobeys

       The nation’s orders. — I denounce St. Just. [Loud applauses.

      St. Just. Hear me! [Violent murmurs.

      Robespierre. He shall be heard!

      Bourdon l’Oise. Must we contaminate this sacred hall

       With the foul breath of treason?

      Collot d’Herbois. Drag him away! 185

       Hence with him to the bar.

      Couthon. Oh, just proceedings!

       Robespierre prevented liberty of speech —

       And Robespierre is a tyrant! Tallien reigns,

       He dreads to hear the voice of innocence —

       And St. Just must be silent!

      Legendre. Heed we well 190

       That justice guide our actions. No light import

       Attends this day. I move St. Just be heard.

      Freron. Inviolate be the sacred right of man.

       The freedom of debate. [Violent applauses.

      St. Just. I may be heard then! much the times are chang’d, 195

       When St. Just thanks this hall for hearing him.

       Robespierre is call’d a tyrant. Men of France,

      

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