Read Ebook: The Literary Remains of Samuel Taylor Coleridge Volume 1 by Coleridge Samuel Taylor Coleridge Henry Nelson Editor

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Notes on Sir Thomas Browne's Religio Medici Notes on Junius Notes on Barclay's 'Argenis' Note in Casaubon's 'Persius' Notes on Chapman's Homer Note in Baxter's 'Life of Himself' Fragment of an Essay on Taste Fragment of an Essay on Beauty

Poems and Poetical Fragments

OMNIANA. The French Decade Ride and Tie Jeremy Taylor Criticism Public Instruction Picturesque Words Toleration War Parodies M. Dupuis Origin of the Worship of Hymen Egotism Cap of Liberty Bulls Wise Ignorance Rouge Hasty Words Motives and Impulses Inward Blindness The Vices of Slaves no excuse for Slavery Circulation of the Blood 'Peritura Parcere Chartae' To have and to be Party Passion Goodness of Heart Indispensable to a Man of Genius Milton and Ben Jonson Statistics Magnanimity Negroes and Narcissuses An Anecdote The Pharos at Alexandria Sense and Common Sense Toleration Hint for a New Species of History Text Sparring Pelagianism The Soul and its Organs of Sense Sir George Etherege, &c. Evidence Force of Habit Phoenix Memory and Recollection 'Aliquid ex Nihilo' Brevity of the Greek and English compared The Will and the Deed The Will for the Deed Sincerity Truth and Falsehood Religious Ceremonies Association Curiosity New Truths Vicious Pleasures Meriting Heaven Dust to Dust Human Countenance Lie useful to Truth Science in Roman Catholic States Voluntary Belief Amanda Hymen's Torch Youth and Age December Morning Archbishop Leighton Christian Honesty Inscription on a Clock in Cheapside Rationalism is not Reason Inconsistency Hope in Humanity Self-love in Religion Limitation of Love of Poetry Humility of the Amiable Temper in Argument Patriarchal Government Callous self-conceit A Librarian Trimming Death Love an Act of the Will Wedded Union Difference between Hobbes and Spinosa The End may justify the Means Negative Thought Man's return to Heaven Young Prodigies Welch names German Language The Universe Harberous An Admonition To Thee Cherubim and Seraphim continually do cry Definition of Miracle Death, and grounds of belief in a Future State Hatred of Injustice Religion The Apostles' Creed A Good Heart Evidences of Christianity 'Confessio Fidei

THE FALL OF ROBESPIERRE

AND OTHER POEMS.

TO H. MARTIN, ESQ.

OF JESUS COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.

DEAR SIR,

Accept, as a small testimony of my grateful attachment, the following Dramatic Poem, in which I have endeavoured to detail, in an interesting form, the fall of a man, whose great bad actions have cast a disastrous lustre on his name. In the execution of the work, as intricacy of plot could not have been attempted without a gross violation of recent facts, it has been my sole aim to imitate the impassioned and highly figurative language of the French Orators, and to develope the characters of the chief actors on a vast stage of horrors.

Yours fraternally,

S. T. COLERIDGE.

Jesus College, September 22, 1794.

THE FALL OF ROBESPIERRE.

AN HISTORIC DRAMA. 1794.

SCENE--'The Tuilleries'.

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 splendour 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. I know he scorns me--and I feel, I hate him-- Yet there is in him that which makes me tremble!

TALLIEN. It was Barrere, Legendre! didst thou mark him? Abrupt he turn'd, yet linger'd as he went, And tow'rds 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.

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 thunder cloud, 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 prepar'd to sting who shelters him. Each thought, each action in himself converges; 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.

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 show 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 to-morrow's fateful sun Beholds the tyrant living--we are dead!

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.

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! 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, 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, Compar'd with which the sun-scorch'd 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 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 a 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! 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 cleansed by wholesome massacre!

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, Shall stalk around me with sun-glittering plumes, Bidding the darts of calumny fall pointless.

COUTHON. So we deceive ourselves! What goodly virtues Bloom on the poisonous branches of ambition! Still, Robespierre! thou'l't 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-- That long th' awaken'd breast retains its horrors! But he returns--and with him comes 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! 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 powers, that--

ROBESPIERRE. That what?

BARRERE. The freedom of debate--

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 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 Of Paris red-eyed Massacre, o'er wearied, Reel'd heavily, intoxicate with blood? And when 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, 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. Denounced twice--and twice I sav'd his life!

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.

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