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

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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.

ADELAIDE. Didst thou present the letter that I gave thee? Did Tallien answer, he would soon return?

SERVANT. He is in the Tuilleries--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.

ADELAIDE. Thou didst rightly.

TALLIEN. Music, my love? O breathe again that air! Soft nurse of pain, it soothes 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 sceptred state, From the rebel's noisy hate.

In a cottag'd vale she dwells, List'ning to the Sabbath bells! Still around her steps are seen Spotless honour'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, 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 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, resolved 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: All--all is ours! e'en now the vital air Of Liberty, condens'd awhile, is bursting from its compressure-- To shatter the arch chemist in the explosion!

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 Float on the scaffold.--But who comes here?

BARRERE. Say, are ye friends to freedom? I am hers! 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 Anticipate the monster's blood!

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!

SCENE--The Convention.

BILLAUD VARENNES. O patriot tongue, Belying the foul heart! Who was it urged Friendly to tyrants that accurst decree, Whose influence brooding o'er this hallow'd hall, Has chill'd each tongue to silence. Who destroy'd The freedom of debate, and carried through The fatal law, that doom'd the delegates, Unheard before their equals, to the bar Where cruelty sat throned, and murder reign'd With her Dumas coequal? Say--thou man Of mighty eloquence, whose law was that?

COUTHON. That law was mine. I urged it--I proposed-- The voice of France assembled in her sons Assented, though the tame and timid voice Of traitors murmur'd. I advised that law-- I justify it. It was wise and good.

BARRERE. Oh, wondrous wise, and most convenient too! I have long mark'd thee, Robespierre--and now Proclaim thee traitor--tyrant!

ROBESPIERRE. Nay, but I will be heard. There was a time When Robespierre began, the loud applauses Of honest patriots drown'd the honest sound. But times are changed, and villany prevails.

COLLOT D'HERBOIS. No--villany shall fall. France could not brook A monarch's sway;--sounds the dictator's name More soothing to her ear?

BOURDON L'OISE. Rattle her chains More musically now than when the hand Of Brissot forged her fetters; or the crew Of Hebert thunder'd out their blasphemies, And Danton talk'd of virtue?

ROBESPIERRE. Oh, that Brissot Were here again to thunder in this hall,-- That Hebert lived, and Danton's giant form Scowl'd once again defiance! so my soul Might cope with worthy foes. People of France, Hear me! Beneath the vengeance of the law Traitors have perish'd countless; more survive: The hydra-headed faction lifts anew Her daring front, and fruitful from her wounds, Cautious from past defects, contrives new wiles Against the sons of Freedom.

TALLIEN. Freedom lives! Oppression falls--for France has felt her chains, Has burst them too. Who, traitor-like, stept forth Amid the hall of Jacobins to save Camille Desmoulins, and the venal wretch D'Eglantine?

ROBESPIERRE. I did--for I thought them honest. And Heaven forefend that vengeance e'er should strike, Ere justice doom'd the blow.

BARRERE. Traitor, thou didst. Yes, the accomplice of their dark designs, Awhile didst thou defend them, when the storm Lour'd at safe distance. When the clouds frown'd darker, Fear'd for yourself, and left them to their fate. Oh, I have mark'd thee long, and through the veil Seen thy foul projects. Yes, ambitious man, 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!

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 Of virtue, than that nature twined her cords Of kindred round us.

BARRERE. Yes, allied in guilt, Even as in blood ye are. Oh, thou worst wretch, Thou worse than Sylla! hast thou not proscrib'd, Yea, in most foul anticipation slaughter'd 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! 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, 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 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 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 CRANCE. No wonder, friend, That we are traitors--that our heads must fall 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 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-- Not one poor blush of truth! most likely tale! That I, who ruin'd Brissot's towering hopes, I, who discover'd Hebert's impious wiles, And sharp'd for Danton's recreant neck the axe, Should now be traitor! had I been so minded, Think ye I had destroy'd 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 forged the shameless falsehood?

COLLOT D'HERBOIS. Ask you proofs? 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 The fatal day. I do repent me much That I kill'd Caesar and spared Antony. But I have been too lenient. I have spared The stream of blood, and now my own must flow To fill the current.

Triumph not too soon, Justice may yet be victor.

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 What his own heart shall dictate.

TALLIEN. Hear ye this, Insulted delegates of France? St. Just From your committee comes--comes charged to speak Of matters of high import--yet omits Their orders! Representatives of France, That bold man I denounce, who disobeys The nation's orders.--I denounce St. Just.

ST. JUST. Hear me!

ROBESPIERRE. He shall be heard!

BURDON L'OISE. Must we contaminate this sacred hall With the foul breath of treason?

COLLOT D'HERBOIS. Drag him away! 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 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.

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