_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 a.s.sa.s.sin 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 ma.s.sacre!

_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, a.s.sa.s.sin!

The violent workings of my soul within Antic.i.p.ate 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 t.i.tle of _To Domestic Peace_, _vide ante_, pp. 71, 72.

ACT II

SCENE--_The Convention._

_Robespierre mounts the Tribune._ Once more befits it that the voice of Truth, Fearless in innocence, though leaguered round By Envy and her hateful brood of h.e.l.l, Be heard amid this hall; once more befits The patriot, whose prophetic eye so oft 5 Has pierced thro' faction's veil, to flash on crimes Of deadliest import. Mouldering in the grave Sleeps Capet's caitiff corse; my daring hand Levelled to earth his blood-cemented throne, My voice declared his guilt, and stirred up France 10 To call for vengeance. I too dug the grave Where sleep the Girondists, detested band!

Long with the shew of freedom they abused Her ardent sons. Long time the well-turn'd phrase, The high-fraught sentence and the lofty tone 15 Of declamation, thunder'd in this hall, Till reason midst a labyrinth of words Perplex'd, in silence seem'd to yield a.s.sent.

I durst oppose. Soul of my honoured friend, Spirit of Marat, upon thee I call-- 20 Thou know'st me faithful, know'st with what warm zeal I urg'd the cause of justice, stripp'd the mask From faction's deadly visage, and destroy'd Her traitor brood. Whose patriot arm hurl'd down Hebert and Rousin, and the villain friends 25 Of Danton, foul apostate! those, who long Mask'd treason's form in liberty's fair garb, Long deluged France with blood, and durst defy Omnipotence! but I it seems am false!

I am a traitor too! I--Robespierre! 30 I--at whose name the dastard despot brood Look pale with fear, and call on saints to help them!

Who dares accuse me? who shall dare belie My spotless name? Speak, ye accomplice band, Of what am I accus'd? of what strange crime 35 Is Maximilian Robespierre accus'd, That through this hall the buz of discontent Should murmur? who shall speak?

_Billaud Varennes._ O patriot tongue Belying the foul heart! Who was it urg'd Friendly to tyrants that accurst decree, 40 Whose influence brooding o'er this hallowed hall, Has chill'd each tongue to silence? Who destroyed The freedom of debate, and carried through The fatal law, that doom'd the delegates, Unheard before their equals, to the bar 45 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 propos'd-- The voice of France a.s.sembled in her sons 50 a.s.sented, though the tame and timid voice Of traitors murmur'd. I advis'd that law-- I justify it. It was wise and good.

_Barrere._ Oh, wonderous wise and most convenient too!

I have long mark'd thee, Robespierre--and now 55 Proclaim thee traitor tyrant! [_Loud applauses._

_Robespierre._ It is well.

I am a traitor! oh, that I had fallen When Regnault lifted high the murderous knife, Regnault the instrument belike of those Who now themselves would fain a.s.sa.s.sinate, 60 And legalise their murders. I stand here An isolated patriot--hemmed around By faction's noisy pack; beset and bay'd By the foul h.e.l.l-hounds who know no escape From Justice' outstretch'd arm, but by the force 65 That pierces through her breast.

[_Murmurs, and shouts of--Down with the 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 chang'd, and villainy prevails. 70

_Collot d'Herbois._ No--villainy 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 75 Of Hebert thundered 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 80 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, 85 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 90 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, 95 Awhile didst thou defend them, when the storm Lower'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, 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 antic.i.p.ation 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 b.l.o.o.d.y banquet? when appall'd The hireling sons of England spread the sail 130 Of safety, fought I like a merchant then?

Oh, patience! patience!