Chapter 2

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; 5 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, Making his eye the inmate of my bosom. 10 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. 15

_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.

_Tallien._ 'Twas all-distrusting guilt that kept from bursting 20 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 25 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; And love and friendship on his coward heart 30 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 35 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.

_Legendre._ O what a precious name is Liberty 40 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-- 45 Hover around me on sad Memory's wings, And pour thy daring vengeance in my heart. Tallien! if but to-morrow's fateful sun Beholds the Tyrant living--we are dead!

_Tallien._ Yet his keen eye that flashes mighty meanings-- 50

_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._ 55

_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? Did zealot armies haste in vain to save them? 60 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, 65 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, Th' Adonis, banquet-hunting Antony? 70 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! 75 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, Compar'd with which the sun-scorcht wilderness 80 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 85 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 The fierce and restless turbulence of guilt. 90

_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 95 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! He, whose heart sickens at the blood of traitors, 100 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-- 105 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!

_Robespierre Junior._ Beware! already do the sections murmur-- 110 '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! 115

_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 Shall stalk around me with sun-glittering plumes, 120 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. 125 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-- That long th' awakened breast retains its horrors! 130 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. 135

_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! A pause!--a _moment's_ pause?--'Tis all _their life_. 140

_Barrere._ Yet much they talk--and plausible their speech. Couthon's decree has given such powers, 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 145 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? Say, what shall counteract the selfish plottings 150 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 155 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, That once imbibed, must be continued ever. 160 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 165 (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? Thought Barrere so, when through the streaming streets 170 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? 175 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, Hidest thy pale face in the skirts of--_Mercy_! 180

_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. 185 Denounced 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! I must away to Tallien. [_Exit._ 190

_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: 195 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, The father's cares, the mother's fond endearment, 200 All sacrificed to liberty's wild riot. The wingéd 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 205 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! Soft nurse of pain, it sooths the weary soul 210 Of care, sweet as the whisper'd breeze of evening That plays around the sick man's throbbing temples.

SONG[501:1]

Tell me, on what holy ground May domestic peace be found? Halcyon daughter of the skies, 215 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 List'ning to the Sabbath bells! 220 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, 225 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 That sighs away the soul in fond despairing, 230 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? 235

_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. 240 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, 245 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: 250 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? 255 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? 260

_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 265 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! 270

[_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._

FOOTNOTES:

[501:1] This Song was reprinted in Coleridge's _Poems_ of 1796, and later under the title of _To Domestic Peace_, _vide ante_, pp. 71, 72.