DE LAUNEY[in consternation]. She's like a wild animal. You would not recognize her.
VINTIMILLE. She is not herself. Something strange and new is in her: the poison of that mob. It's too disgusting. I can't understand it. It's like a wind of bestiality blown from the monstrous part of humanity. [The Swiss Guards descend from the towers withDE FLUE.]
DE LAUNEY[very much excited, goes to meetDE FLUE]. What have you done? What have you done?
DE FLUE[fuming]. By God, I did what you told me to do! You ordered me to smash them, and I have smashed them. It seems you've changed your mind, and you want peace. What the devil do you want me to do?
DE LAUNEY. We're lost now.
DE FLUE. Lost? [He shrugs his shoulders, and motions to his Guards to roll the cannon into position.]
BÉQUARTand thePENSIONERS. What are you doing?
THE SWISS GUARDS.Three volleys and the court will be empty.
BÉQUARTand thePENSIONERS. You're not going to fire?
THE SWISS GUARDS.Why not?
BÉQUART. Into the mob? It would be nothing but massacre!
THE SWISS GUARDS.What's that to us?
BÉQUART. They are our relatives, Frenchmen like the rest of us. Put that cannon back, and don't dare fire.
THE SWISS GUARDS.Get out of our way. Let us pass! [They knockBÉQUARTout of the way.]
DE LAUNEY. Damned Germans! [They cross bayonets.]
THE SWISS GUARDS.Knock them down! These battered scarecrows! They can't frighten us!
BÉQUART. If you advance, I'll fire. [He takes aim.VINTIMILLEandDE FLUEstand between them.]
DE FLUE. Down with your weapons! Down, by God! [He beats them with his cane.]
VINTIMILLE. Snarling dogs!
DE LAUNEY[at his wits' end]. They too are in revolt! They won't fight now! All is lost! [He rushes toward the citadel and tries to enter.]
VINTIMILLE[stopping him]. Where are you going?
DE LAUNEY[in desperation]. To die! But they will die with us!
VINTIMILLE. What are you going to do?
DE LAUNEY. To the basements! Tons of powder! Set it off!
DE LAUNEY. Don't do that!
DE LAUNEY. I will!
VINTIMILLE. And blow up a large part of Paris? What heroism! It's too ridiculous. You really couldn't do that unless you believed in something! Ridiculous to do it for no reason at all. You mustn't upset the table just because you lose.
DE LAUNEY. But what can I do?
DE LAUNEY. Surrender.
DE LAUNEY. Never! The King confided the Bastille to me. I shall never surrender! [He again tries to go, but the Pensioners seize him.]
DE LAUNEY[toVINTIMILLE]. Monseigneur, you command us!
VINTIMILLE[coldly]. Monsieur le Gouverneur is not well. Conduct him to his apartments, and take care of him.
DE LAUNEY[struggling]. Traitors! Cowards! [They carry him off.]
VINTIMILLE[aside]. I was an idiot to get dragged into this! Nothing to do now. I must draw my next card with equanimity. [Aloud.] Monsieur de Flue?
DE FLUE. What is it?
VINTIMILLE. Let us draw up our capitulation papers.
DE FLUE. Papers? No, thanks, I'll have nothing to do with them. [He turns his back.VINTIMILLEwrites, leaning against a cannon.]
A SwissGUARD[toDE FLUE]. They will massacre us.
DE FLUE[phlegmatically]. Possibly. [He sits down on a drum and lights his pipe.]
THE SWISS GUARDS[wiping their faces]. Damned heat! Can't we have something to drink? [A Guard gets a pitcher of water, which is passed around. The Guards are together at the left, with their officer; they are indifferent and bored. The Pensioners, opposite, stand about the cannon whereVINTIMILLEis writing. They watch with respect every movement he makes.BÉQUARTholds the inkstand for him.VINTIMILLEreads in a low voice toBÉQUARTwhat he has written,BÉQUARTnodding approval. His comrades repeat the words among themselves, likewise nodding.]
DE LAUNEY[with mingled irony and approval]. The lamb has captured the wolf.
VINTIMILLE. I demand their promise that no one shall be harmed.
BÉQUART. It costs us nothing to ask.
VINTIMILLE[smiling]. It costs nothing to promise. [He goes toDE FLUE.] Will you sign?
DE FLUE[as he signs]. Fine way to fight!—Well, it's not my affair.
VINTIMILLE. The difficulty is not in writing, but in making them read what we write. [The Pensioners, approaching the gate, are greeted by musket-shots.]
DE LAUNEY. They're desperate. They won't let any one come near.
BÉQUART. Give me the love-missive.
DE LAUNEY. You'll get killed, Béquart.
BÉQUART. What do I care? I'm not capitulating in order to save myself.
THE SWISS GUARDS.Why, then?
DE LAUNEY[pointing to the People]. To save them! [Among themselves, scornfully.] They don't understand a thing! [BÉQUARTadvances to the gate.—The Pensioners shout to him.] How will you give it to them?
BÉQUART[pointing to his pike]. On the end of this spit.
VINTIMILLE[turning toward the towers]. Hoist the white flag!
DE LAUNEY[shouting]. Up there, hey! The flag! [The gate opens.BÉQUARTgoes up toward the opening in the wall, right of the draw-bridge.]
BÉQUART[waving his arms and crying]. Capitulation! [He is received by a veritable tempest of shouts and musket-shots. He totters, and shouts out in fury as he shakes his fist at the crowd.] Pigs! It's for your sake! For you!
DE LAUNEY[crowding about the draw-bridge, and shouting outside]. Don't fire! Don't fire! [Outside the people are heard shouting,"Don't fire!"then,"Surrender!" This cry increases, and finally voices are heard in heated discussion. After a moment, there is silence.] Hoche and Hulin are making them put down their muskets. They understand. They are stopping. They are coming up to the moat.
BÉQUART[leaning out far over the wall, with the letter at the end of his pike]. Hurry! I haven't time to wait.
DE LAUNEY[still looking outside]. Hulin's bringing a plank. He's throwing it across the moat. Some one's crossing—he's lost his balance! He's falling! No, he's safe now.
BÉQUART[panting for breath]. Hurry up! Hurry!
DE LAUNEY. He's touching the pike. He has the paper.
BÉQUART[standing upright]. There! [Looking at the People.] Pigs! [He raises his arms and shouts.] Long live the Nation! [He falls back, struck by a bullet.]
DE LAUNEY. Pigs! They've killed him! [Two of them go toBÉQUART'Sbody, and bring it down to the center of the stage, laying it atVINTIMILLE'Sfeet.]
VINTIMILLE[looking at the body with a mixture of irony and sympathy]. Honor? To what end?
DE LAUNEY. Listen! [Outside is heard the shout of the People accepting the conditions, and the Pensioners repeat:] Accepted!
VINTIMILLE[with indifference]. Inform Monsieur le Gouverneur.
DE LAUNEY. Monseigneur, he's gone crazy: he's broken all the furniture in his room. He cries like a baby.
VINTIMILLE[with a shrug]. Well, I shall take his place to the end. [To himself, with a touch of ironic bitterness.] I never thought I should one day have the honor of giving up the royalty of France with these four-century-old walls into the hands of the lawyers. A beautiful duty! To think I should come to this! Well, nothing matters; everything passes, and everything ends. Death settles all accounts. Now we'll give them a little comedy—with the grand manner at the last. [Aloud.] Fall in! Form in line! [The garrison falls into rank; the Pensioners on the right, the Swiss Guards, left.DE FLUEis standing, whileVINTIMILLErises, using his cane to support himself.] Butt-ends of your muskets in the air! Messieurs, I think I ought to inform you that in spite of the precautions I have taken, there will be some surprises when the enemy makes its entrance. You know they are not a disciplined army. But if they show any lack of military manners, that is no excuse for our behaving likewise. And you, Swiss Guards, in the name of the King, I thank, you for your obedience. You deserve more credit than the others. [He turns his back on the Pensioners and smiles a little.] As to you, we understand each other. [The Pensioners murmur approval.]
DE FLUE[phlegmatically]. War is war! [A Pensioner whistles:"Où peut-on être mieux qu'au sein de sa famille?"]
VINTIMILLE[turning toward him, and, with a disdainful gesture]. You need not trouble to show your glee! It's indecent, my friend.
THE PENSIONER. Monseigneur, I couldn't help it.
VINTIMILLE. Why, you are positively proud to be beaten!
THE PENSIONER[warmly]. We are not beaten! They would never have taken the Bastille unless we had wished them to. [His comrades murmur approval.]
VINTIMILLE. Do you mean to say that it is we who have taken the Bastile?—
PENSIONER. There is some truth in it.
VINTIMILLE. Well—! To your post! [After a pause.] Open the gate. Lower the draw-bridge. [Some of the men open the gate and slowly lower the draw-bridge. The People outside continue their shouting.] Here, then, comes the new King, ha! [The draw-bridge is now down. A formidable clamor arises, as the human flood pours in through the opened gate. Men and women, armed with pikes, hatchets, and muskets, surge through. At their head isGONCHON,who is pushed forward, flourishing his saber in the air.HOCHEandHULINmake vain efforts to silence the mob. There are cries of death and victory.VINTIMILLEtakes off his hat.] Messieurs, the rabble!
PENSIONERS[suddenly swept away by their enthusiasm, wave their hats]. Long live Liberty!
VINTIMILLE. Messieurs, messieurs, have you no sense of shame?
PENSIONERS[with waxing enthusiasm]. Long live Liberty! [They throw away their muskets and rush into the arms of the People.]
VINTIMILLE[with a shrug]. Ah, human reason, how frail thou art! Farewell, Monsieur de Vintimille. [He breaks his sword.GONCHON,at his wits' end, pushed forward by the howling mob—among whom is distinguished theOLD FRUIT-SELLER—fall uponVINTIMILLE,DE FLUE,and their soldiers, dragging them off the stage with shouts and curses.]
GONCHON. Rip them open!
THE OLD WOMAN. Dogs of aristocrats!
THE PEOPLE. Swiss pigs!—I know these fellows!—The old lame ones!—The enemy! Kill them! They fired on us! [HOCHEandHULIN,who try to stop the People, are brushed aside by them and thrown against a wall. In the midst of the hubbub,MARATis seen.] Long live Marat!
MARAT. My children, what are you doing?
THE WOMEN. Kill! Kill!
MARAT. Kill them? What do you want? Would you eat them? [Some of the crowd laugh.]
HULIN. He knows how to handle them: amuse them!
HOCHE. Where is the little girl?
HULIN. The little girl? [HOCHEruns out to look forJULIE.]
DESMOULINS[jumping into their midst]. Stop, comrades, you're killing prisoners!
THE PEOPLE[stopping]. The prisoners?
DESMOULINS. The prisoners of the Bastille. Look at their clothes. We have come to free them!
THE PEOPLE[doubtfully]. They're enemies!
HULIN. There are no more enemies.
JULIE[onHOCHE'Sshoulders, carrying a branch, extends her arms to the People, and shouts]. Be merciful to our friends, our friends the enemy.
THE PEOPLE[laughing]. Hear the little one!
HOCHE[putting her down on a cannon, whence she dominates the crowd]. Shout, child: "All brothers, all friends."
JULIE. Brothers! Brothers!
THE PEOPLE. We are all brothers! She's right!
DE LAUNEY. Long live the People!
THE PEOPLE. Long live the ancient glory!
DE LAUNEY[toJULIE]. You've saved us, little one!
THE PEOPLE. She conquered you, too, comrades. The little mite took the Bastille.
MARAT. You are our good conscience!
THE PEOPLE. You are our little Liberty! [They stretch out their arms. The women blow hisses to her.]
HOCHE[clappingHULINon the shoulder]. Well, Hulin? You everlasting doubter, are you at last convinced?
HULIN[wiping his eyes, but still a little obstinate]. Yes, although—[Laughter fromHOCHEand the People drown out the rest. He stops and laughs louder than the others. He looks about him, and catching sight of a statue of the King in a niche by the entrance to the court, he picks it up.] Down with you! Make way for Liberty! [He throws the statue down, then runs toJULIE,picks her up and puts her in the niche.] The Bastille fallen at last! I did it! We did it! We'll do a lot more, too! Let's clean the stables of Augias, rid the earth of its monsters, and strangle the lion of royalty. Our fists will lay low all despotism! Comrades, we shall forge the Republic! We've been held down too long, and now we're bursting our bonds! Roll on, oh, torrent of the Revolution!
THE OLD FRUIT-SELLER[astride a cannon, with a red kerchief about her head]. To the King! Here's my horse. I took him. I'll hitch him to my little cart and we'll go to Versailles to make a visit to big Louis! I've got a lot to say to him. Lord, for centuries I've lived in misery, I've been so patient! I'm choking; I must get rid of the feeling. I was a good old animal! I thought I had to suffer, in order to enjoy riches. Now at last I understand. I want to live, I want to live! I'm sorry I'm so old. God Almighty, I want to make up for lost time! Get up, old fellow, to the Court! [The gun-carriage is pushed forward by the People, and the old woman, in her helmet and trappings, rides past in triumph.]
THE PEOPLE. On to the Court! On to Versailles! We've suffered too long! We want to be happy! We'll be happy!
DESMOULINS[carrying a green branch]. The forest of Liberty has sprung up from the stones. Green leaves wave in the wind. The old heart of Paris will flower once again. Spring has come!
THE PEOPLE[bursting with joy and pride, all wave branches, and decorate themselves with green cockades, green ribbons, etc]. Free! The Heavens are free! [The sunset filters in through the draw-bridge opening, and bathes in purple the inner court of the Bastille and the People with their waving branches.]
HOCHE. Sun, you may sleep now, for we have not wasted our day.
LA CONTAT. Its dying rays paint the castle windows, the branches, the heads and little Liberty, a glowing red.
HULIN. Heaven announces the war.
MARAT. Unlike Him who entered seventeen hundred years ago in the midst of branches, this little child has not come to bring us peace.
DESMOULINS. There is blood on our hands.
ROBESPIERRE[with suppressed fanaticism]. It is our own!
THE PEOPLE[excited]. It's mine!—It's mine!—We offer it to you, Liberty!
DESMOULINS. To the devil with our lives! Great happiness must be bought.
HOCHE. And we are ready to pay.
ROBESPIERRE[as before]. We will pay.
THE PEOPLE[enthusiastically]. We will pay! [The People dance and sing about the little figure of Liberty. Music.]
LA CONTAT. What joy to be one of you! To love and to suffer with you! Give me your hands! Let us dance, and all be brothers! Sing, for this is your festival, Oh, people of Paris!
MARAT. My dear people, you have suffered so long, you have struggled so long in silence. So many centuries had to elapse before this hour of joy! Liberty is yours. Guard well your conquest.
DESMOULINS[to the People]. And now, finish what you have begun. This Bastille has fallen, but there are others. On to the fight! We must fight against the enemies of truth! Against darkness! Mind will dominate brute force. The past is dead! Death itself is dead!
HULIN[toJULIE]. Our Liberty, our light, our love! How small you are now! And how frail! Will you have the strength to resist the tempests that lie ahead? Grow, grow, little plant, straight up, and vigorous, and give happiness to the world with your fragrance of the fields!
HOCHE[saber in hand, climbs to an eminence at the foot of the niche where Liberty stands]. Be reassured, Liberty, you are safe with us. We hold you fast. Woe be unto him who molests you! You belong to us, and we belong to you. These spoils, these trophies, are yours. [The women strew Liberty with flowers. The men then lower their pikes, banners, branches, and trophies in her presence.] But all this is not yet enough: we will give you a deathless triumph. Daughter of the People of Paris, your eyes shall inspire every enslaved nation. We will carry across the universe the great banner of Equality. We will take your chariot into the midst of battles, with the aid of our sabers, our cannon, toward Love, toward the brotherhood of all mankind! Brothers, my brothers! We are all brothers! We are all free! Come, let us deliver the world! [Swords, lances, branches, handkerchiefs, hats, and arms wave madly, amid the uproar of drums, trumpets, and shouting. The People dance about the figure of Liberty.]
A Play in Three Acts
[Dantonwas produced in Paris in 1900.]
To My Father
CAST OF CHARACTERS:
ROBESPIERREDANTONCAMILLE DESMOULINSVADIERBILLAUD-VARENNESAINT-JUSTHERMAN WESTERMANNHÉRAULT DE SÉCHELLESPHILIPPEAUXFABRE D'EGLANTINEFOUQUIER-TINVILLELUCILE DESMOULINSELÉONORE DUPLAYMADAME DUPLAY
The People, Jury, Gendarmes, etc.
SCENE: Paris, March and April, 1794.
Act I.Desmoulins' home.Act II.Robespierre's room.Act III.The Revolutionary Tribunal.
[M. Rolland has suggested lines and "business" for The People in footnotes throughout Act III, but as these are not an integral part of the play and are intended rather as an aid to the producer, I have not deemed it necessary to incorporate more than half a dozen lines into the text.—THE TRANSLATOR.]I
[The home ofCAMILLE DESMOULINS.A middle-class sitting-room, furnished in every style, and presenting a fantastic appearance. The walls are hung with licentious engravings of the 18th century. Over the fire-place is the bust of an ancient philosopher. On the table is a small model of the Bastille. A cradle stands in the corner. A window is open. Outside may be seen the gray sky and the rain.CAMILLEandLUCILE,who holds her child in her arms, look out the window.PHILIPPEAUXstrides back and forth, glancing out of the window occasionally.HÉRAULT DE SÉCHELLES,seated in an arm-chair by the fire, looks at his friends. The joyous shouting of the crowd is heard outside.]
LUCILE[leaning out]. There they are! There they are! They're passing at the end of the street!
CAMILLE[shouting]. Good luck to you, Père Duchesne! Don't forget your pipe!
HÉRAULT[softly]. Camille, my friend, don't show yourself.
CAMILLE. Come and see, our old friends, Hérault! Ronsin, the general of the clubs; and Vincent, who wanted your head, Philippeaux; and Hebert, the bully, who had supper every evening at my expense; and the Prussian Cloots, the fair Anacharsis! The last trip of the young Anacharsis! Mankind is in a fine fix now: deprived of its orator! The guillotine is busy today.
LUCILE[to the baby]. Look, Horace, look at those naughty men! And Commander Hanriot, galloping with his saber! Do you see, darling?
PHILIPPEAUX. He's too zealous. He ought to be riding on the cart himself.
CAMILLE. It's like a great festival; the people are gay. [Outside a clarinet is heard playing a grotesque air. The People laugh.] What's that?
LUCILE. The little hunchback with the cart, playing his clarinet.
CAMILLE. Pleasant idea! [They all laugh.] Why don't you look, Hérault? Aren't you interested? You seem sad? What are you thinking about? [The uproar becomes fainter.]
HÉRAULT. I was thinking, Camille, that Anacharsis is thirty-eight, and Hebert thirty-five—your age, Philippeaux; and Vincent twenty-seven, six years younger than I—and you, Desmoulins.
CAMILLE. True. [He suddenly becomes serious, leaving the window and coming to the center of the room. He stands still an instant, his chin in his hand.]
LUCILE[still at the window]. How it rains! Too bad!
CAMILLE[put out]. Come away from the window, Lucile. You'll catch cold.
LUCILE[closing the window, comes into the room with the baby, singing to herself:]
"Come quick, little shepherdess, gather your sheep:The rain is beginning to fall,And bring them back safe to the sheepfold again;Come quick, or you'll lose them all!"
CAMILLE. Lucile, Lucile, how can you sing that song! I never hear it without thinking that the poet who wrote it is now languishing in prison.
LUCILE. Fabre? That's so. Our poor Eglantine. They shut him up in the Luxembourg, sick as he was! Oh, well, he'll come out.
HÉRAULT.Pur troppo!
LUCILE. Now what does that mean? Something naughty, I know.
PHILIPPEAUX. Something sad, and only too true.
LUCILE. Hush, you gloomy men! Fabre will be released, I tell you. Are we not here to help him?
HÉRAULT. Danton himself could do nothing to save him.
LUCILE. Danton, perhaps. But when Camille takes his pen in hand, and writes all he thinks, you'll see the jail gates open of their own accord!
HÉRAULT. For whom?
LUCILE. For the tyrants!
HÉRAULT. Imprudent shepherdess, you had better keep an eye on your sheep! "Bring them back safe to the sheepfold again!" Remember your song. [A servant enters and takes the baby fromLUCILE;then carries him out.LUCILEwhispers to her, leaves the room, and returns a moment later. During the entire scene she walks about, busied with various domestic duties, and only occasionally catches the drift of the following conversation.]
CAMILLE. Lucile is right: we must make the effort. It is our business to direct the Revolution which we have started. This voice of mine has not yet lost its power over the crowd. It has sent fanatics to the guillotine. We were never so strong as today; let us follow up our success: the Luxembourg is no more difficult to take than the Bastille. We laid low nine centuries of monarchy, and we can easily deal with a handful of vagabonds, who derive their power from us, and who use it in order to run the Convention and France in their own way.
PHILIPPEAUX[walking about agitatedly]. The rascals! If they only confined themselves to murder! But no, they had to implicate Fabre in theCompagnie des Indesbusiness; invented that impossible yarn: Jews and German bankers bribing our friend in order to corrupt the Assembly! They know they are lying, but they cannot satisfy their consciences until they vilify their enemy before they kill him.
HÉRAULT. Our enemies are virtuous: and that is some consolation: to have our throats cut in the name of principles.
CAMILLE. France hates hypocrisy. Let us beat the pedants and thrash Basile!
PHILIPPEAUX. I have done my duty: let each do his. I dragged to light the brigands of the Western Army, the military staff of Saumur. I have a firm hold on their necks, and only the loss of my own head will force me to release it. I have no illusions: I know what it will cost to attack General Rossignol and his band. The Committee is now lying in wait, but only in order to catch me. I wonder what infamy they are going to saddle me with? I'm all in a fever only to think of it. Let them chop my head if they will, but they must not touch my honor!
HÉRAULT. I'm not so worried as you, Philippeaux. I already know what pretext they have to suppress me. I am so unfortunate as to think that while we may be the enemy of the governments of all Europe, we need not therefore despise every one who does not happen to be French. I had friends abroad, and I did not think it was necessary to break with them, in order to give in to the folly of Billaud-Varenne and others of his ilk. They entered my house, forced the drawers of my desks, stole some letters of a purely friendly nature. But that was enough, and of course I am now a conspirator for the restoration of the King, and receive money from Pitt.
CAMILLE. Are you sure of what you say?
HÉRAULT. Quite sure, Camille. My head is not worth a son.
CAMILLE. But you must hide.
HÉRAULT. There is no hiding-place in the world for a Republican. Kings hound them, and the Republic sends them to the guillotine.
CAMILLE. You lack courage. We are the most popular men of the Republic.
HÉRAULT. Lafayette was popular, too, and Pétion, and Roland. Capet himself was popular. He who was a week ago the people's idol is now dead. Who can flatter himself that he is beloved of those brutes? At moments, you think you see in their troubled eyes some faint reflection of your own thoughts. Whose conscience, at least one day in a lifetime, is not in harmony with the conscience of the masses? But that harmony cannot long exist, and it is folly to try to keep it. The brain of the people is a surging sea, alive with monsters and nightmares.
CAMILLE. What big words! We puff out our cheeks to say things to the people, and we say them solemnly, in order that Europe may believe in some mysterious power of which we are the instruments. But I know the people; they have worked for me. The ass in the fable says: "I cannot carry two saddles," but he never for an instant doubts that he can carry any at all. We had trouble enough to make the people start their Revolution; they only did it in spite of themselves. We were the engineers, the agents of that sublime movement; without us, it would not have moved an inch. They did not demand a Republic; I led them to it. I persuaded them that they wanted to be free, in order that they might cherish their Liberty as their own achievement. That is the only way to handle weak people. Convince them that they want something they never thought of, and they invariably want it.
HÉRAULT. Take care, Camille; you are a child, and you are playing with fire. You believe the people have followed you because you were aiming at the same goal. They have passed you by. Don't try to stop them. You can't take a bone from a hungry dog.
CAMILLE. You have only to throw them another. Tell me, don't you read myVieux Cordelier?Does not its voice resound throughout the Republic?
LUCILE. Do you know how popular the last number was? He's had letters from every one—and what weeping, and kisses, and declarations of love! If I were jealous—! They implore him to continue, and save the country.
HÉRAULT. How many of these friends would help him if he were attacked?
CAMILLE. I need no one's help. My writing-desk is enough! This David's sling [pointing to his pen] has just overthrown the proud guillotine, the prince of blackguards. I've broken the pipe of Père Duchesne, the famous pipe that like the trumpet of Jericho, after it had thrice been smoked around a reputation, made it fall of its own accord. From this pen went forth the stroke that struck the cowardly Goliath in the head. I made his own people hoot him. Did you notice the pipe-bowls about Père Duchesne's cart just now? That was my idea. It has proved a prodigious success. Why do you look at me?
HÉRAULT. An idea!
CAMILLE. What is it?
HÉRAULT. Do you sometimes think of death?
CAMILLE. Death? No, I don't like to. It's nasty.
HÉRAULT. Did you never think how awful it would be?
LUCILE. How horrible! Fine things to talk about!
HÉRAULT. You are a good, dear, lovable child, and yet you are cruel—like a child.
CAMILLE[excitedly]. You really think me cruel?
LUCILE. See, he's crying this moment!
CAMILLE[deeply stirred]. True, he suffered. When I think of his agony, his terror, waiting for the end—It must have been atrocious! No matter how vile he was, he suffered like an honest man—perhaps even more. Poor Hebert!
LUCILE[her arms aboutCAMILLE'Sneck]. My poor Bouli-Boula, you're not going to feel so sorry for a villain who wanted to send you to the guillotine?
CAMILLE[angrily]. Yes. Now, why are you attacking me this way?Si quis atra dente me petiverit, inultus ut flebo puer!
LUCILE[toHÉRAULT]. And you dare say my Camille is cruel!
HÉRAULT. I do, of course. Dear fellow! He is perhaps the cruellest of us all.
CAMILLE. Don't say that, Hérault; I may end by believing you.
LUCILE[toHÉRAULT,shaking her finger at him]. Say it's not true:youare the cruellest.
HÉRAULT. Well, no, it is not true:youare the cruellest.
LUCILE. Very well. I don't mind that.
CAMILLE. What you say troubles me, Hérault. It is true, I have done great evil, but I am not bad by nature. I have constituted myself the prosecuting attorney for the lamp-post. I have no idea what damnable impish instinct urges me on. It was due to me that the Girondins are now rotting in the fields. MyBrissot dévoiléled to the decapitating of thirty young, lovable, generous men. They clung to life, as I do; they were made in order to enjoy life, and be happy. They, too, had their dear Luciles. Oh, Lucile, let us go away, far from this butchery that is so terrible to others, and perhaps to ourselves! What if we—you—our little Horace—? Oh, why can't I be a stranger once more to all men? Where can I hide myself from the sight of the world, with my wife and child and my books!Ubi campi Guisiaque!
PHILIPPEAUX. You're in the cyclone, and you cannot escape.
HÉRAULT. Don't force him to remain in a struggle which he was not intended for.
PHILIPPEAUX. But as he himself just said, we must do our duty.
HÉRAULT[pointing toCAMILLE,who kissesLUCILE]. Look at him: does not Camille's duty seem to be the pursuit of happiness?
CAMILLE. True, I have a wonderful vocation for happiness. Some people are made for suffering, but suffering disgusts me: I want none of it.
LUCILE. Did I spoil your vocation?
CAMILLE. My Vesta, my little one! You are very much to blame! You have made me too happy!
LUCILE. Coward! He pities himself.
CAMILLE. You see, I have lost all strength, all my faith.
LUCILE. How?
CAMILLE. I used to believe in the immortality of the soul. When I saw the misery of the world, I said to myself that life would be too absurd if virtue were not rewarded elsewhere. But now I am happy, so sublimely happy that I truly believe I have received my reward on earth. So you see, I have lost my proof of immortality.
HÉRAULT. Never try to find it again.
CAMILLE. How simple it is to be happy! There are so few who know how to be!
HÉRAULT. The simpler a thing is, the oftener it eludes us. It is said that men wish to be happy. A great mistake! They wish to be unhappy; they insist on it. Pharaohs and Sesostris, kings with hawks' heads and tigers' claws; butchers of the Inquisition, conquerors of Bastilles; wars that sow murder and rapine—that is what they want. The obscurity of the mysteries is necessary to belief; the absurdity of suffering, to love. But reason, tolerance, love, happiness—bah! Give them that, and you insult them!
CAMILLE. You are bitter. You must do good to men in spite of themselves.
HÉRAULT. That is what everybody is doing nowadays, and the result is nothing to boast of.
CAMILLE. Poor Republic! What have they done to You? Oh, flowering fields, rejuvenated earth, clear air, and bright light of the heavens, clear-eyed Reason has sent packing the sorry superstitions and the ancient Gothic saints from fair France. Young men and women dancing in the meadows, heroic armies, fraternal feeling, impregnable wall against which the armies of Europe in vain break their lances; joy of beauty, noble Panathenaics, white-armed maidens, dressed in thin flowing draperies; liberty to live, pleasure that throbs from sheer joy of living. Fair Republic of Aspasia and the charming Alcibiades—what has become of you? What are you now? You wear a red cap, a dirty shirt; you have a hoarse voice, the fixed ideas of a maniac, the pedantic manner of a schoolmaster!
HÉRAULT. You are an Athenian among barbarians.—Ovid among the Scythians. You will never reform them.
CAMILLE. I shall at least try.
HÉRAULT. You are wasting your time—perhaps your life.
CAMILLE. What have I to fear?
HÉRAULT. Beware of Robespierre.
CAMILLE. I have known him since we were children: a friend may say anything.
HÉRAULT. A disagreeable truth is more easily forgiven by an enemy than a friend.
LUCILE. Stop! He must be a great man and save thePatrie.Whoever doesn't agree with me, will have none of my chocolate.
HÉRAULT[smiling]. I'll not say another word. [LUCILEgoes out.]
PHILIPPEAUX. So you have decided to go ahead, Desmoulins?
CAMILLE. Yes.
PHILIPPEAUX. No truce, then! Press on, drive your quill without mercy. The worst danger lies in this skirmishing warfare you are carrying on. You are satisfied merely to goad them with your arrows; that only gives them more power against you. Aim at the heart, if you can, and complete the work at a stroke.
HÉRAULT. My friends, I do not approve of your plans, but if you have made up your minds, you must, of course, have every chance in your favor. If we intend to start warfare, Desmoulins' pen—forgive me, Camille!—is not enough. The people do not read. The success of theVieux Cordeliermisleads you; it does not reach the people; it has quite another public. You know very well, Camille: you complained that one number was sold at twenty sous. Aristocrats like us buy it. The people know only what the club orators tell them, and they are not on your side. You may write down to the people and try to use expressions you have heard in the markets; you will never be one of the people. There is only one way to influence them: have Danton talk to them. His thunder alone can stir that vast chaos. Danton has only to shake his mane, and the forum is in his power. But Danton does nothing; he's asleep—away from Paris. He doesn't address the Convention. No one knows what has become of him. Who has seen him lately? Where is he? What is he doing? [EnterDANTONandWESTERMANN.]
DANTON. Danton swims in debauchery. Danton dallies with the women. Danton's rest is like Hercules'! [DESMOULINSruns toDANTONand shakes hands with him, laughing.WESTERMANNstands aside,preoccupied.]
CAMILLE. Hercules still keeps his club, so long as there are monsters to be killed.
DANTON. Don't speak of killing. It's too horrible. France reeks with blood; the smell of dead flesh befouls the air. I just crossed the Seine; the sun was setting, and the river was red. It seemed to flow in waves of blood. If our rivers are so foul, where shall we wash our hands? There are enough dead! Let us build up the Republic. Let the harvests and men grow once more and become a newPatrie.Let us love one another and cultivate our fields.
CAMILLE. May some god give us the chance, Danton! We are counting on you.
DANTON. What is it, my children?
PHILIPPEAUX. We need your help to fight.
DANTON. How can I help you? Must I always do everything? You are all alike. Here is Westermann; he is a man; he has fought; he has saved thePatrietwo or three times; and before he sits down to supper, he cuts a man's throat as an appetizer. I must aid him, too! Do you want me to ride a horse and carry a saber, besides?
WESTERMANN. When it comes to fighting, I yield to no one. Take me out to the battle-field; show me a company to rout, and see how I acquit myself. But to have to speak, answer the mouthing members of the Convention, frustrate the underhanded schemes of that Committee of toads that are always plotting my ruin,—I can't do it. I feel lost in that city; the whole pack snap at me; I can't move; I must stand it and not even try to defend myself. Are you going to let me be devoured alive, and not help me? By God, I once fought for you; we have the same enemies. My cause is your cause—yours, Danton—yours, Philippeaux, as you very well know!
PHILIPPEAUX. I know, Westermann. It's because you attacked Rossignol, Ronsin, and all the blackguards, as I did, who dishonor the army. And the Jacobins are yelping after us. We shan't desert you.
CAMILLE[toDANTON]. We must do something. I offer my pen, and Westermann his sword. Guide us, Danton. You know how to handle the crowd, you understand the strategy of revolutions. Lead us; we have another Tenth of August ahead.
DANTON. Later.
PHILIPPEAUX. You've disappeared from the arena; they are forgetting you. Show yourself. What have you been doing these many weeks, hidden in the country?
DANTON. I have been communing with mother earth, in order to draw new strength from it, like Anteus.
PHILIPPEAUX. Rather you are looking for a pretext to retire from the fray.
DANTON. I cannot lie: you speak the truth.
CAMILLE. What's the trouble?
DANTON. I am sick of humanity. I vomit men.
HÉRAULT. You are not so sick of women, it seems?
DANTON. The women at least are frank enough to be merely themselves and nothing more. They are what we all are: animals. They seek pleasure directly, and never lie to themselves and cover up their instincts with the cloak of reason. I hate the hypocrisy of the intelligence, the sanguinary idiocy of these idealists, these dictators of impotence, who call the natural needs corruption, and pretend to deny nature, in order to flatter their own monstrous egotism and their mad desire for destruction. Oh, if I could only be a brute, an honest out-and-out brute, with the frank desire to love others so long as they allow me a place in the sun!
CAMILLE. Yes, we fairly reek with hypocrisy.
DANTON. The most odious of hypocrisies: the hypocrisy of the dagger. The virtuous guillotine!
PHILIPPEAUX. We have destroyed Capet, only in order that Talien, Fouchet, and Collot d'Herbois might repeat their persecutions and massacres as at Bordeaux and Lyon!
CAMILLE. These maniacs have established a new religion—an obligatory and lay religion, giving the proconsuls a free hand to hang, slash, and burn—all in the name of virtue.
DANTON. There is no danger in any state as great as that of the men with principles. They don't try to do good, but to be in the right; no suffering touches them. Their only morality, their only political ideal, is to impose their ideas on others.
HÉRAULT[reciting ironically]:
"A man of honor has a higher aim,His joy consists in giving joy to others!"
LUCILE[entering, and continuing the quotation]:
"The gen'rous man is not so hard to please.He jogs along and spurs his fractious beastWithout inquiring if the poor young thingEnjoys himself or not—"
HÉRAULT. Hm! You're well up in your authors!
LUCILE. What of it? Every one knowsLa Pucelle.
DANTON. You are right, my dear. It is the breviary of good women.
HÉRAULT. Did you ever recite it to Robespierre?
LUCILE. I'd never dare.
CAMILLE. Did you ever see him when some one told a nasty story in his presence? His brow contracts; he clasps his hands, he makes faces like a monkey with the tooth-ache.
HÉRAULT. He inherits that from his father, and gets his hatred of Voltaire from Rousseau.
LUCILE[astonished]. What! Is he Rousseau's son?
HÉRAULT[jokingly]. Didn't you know?
DANTON. Jesuit nonsense! He's more corrupt than the rest. He who slinks off to have his pleasures, usually has very poor morals.
PHILIPPEAUX. Possibly, but if Robespierre loves pleasure he hides it effectively; and he is right, Danton. You parade your pleasures too much. You would sacrifice your fortune for a night at the Palais-Royal.
DANTON. Because I prefer good fortune to bad.
PHILIPPEAUX. Meantime, you are compromising yourself. Public opinion is quick to judge you. And what will posterity say when it learns that Danton, on the eve of a decisive struggle for the State, thought only of pleasure?
DANTON. I don't give a damn about public opinion; reputation is nothing, and posterity a stinking cesspool!
PHILIPPEAUX. And virtue, Danton?
DANTON. Ask my wife whether mine satisfies her.
PHILIPPEAUX. You don't believe what you say. You libel yourself and play into the hands of the enemy.
WESTERMANN[bursts forth after attempting to restrain himself]. You damned gossips and braggarts! Some of them declaim about their virtues, and some about their vices. You can't do anything but talk. Your city is a nest of petty lawyers. The enemy is threatening us. Danton, tell me, yes or no, are you going to do anything?
DANTON. Don't bother me. I've given my life and my peace of mind to save the Republic, but it doesn't deserve a single hour I have sacrificed. I tell you, Danton has at last bought the right to live for himself.
CAMILLE. Danton has not bought the right to be a Siéyès.
DANTON. Am I a draft-horse, condemned to turn the millstone till I drop?
CAMILLE. You have entered a narrow pass surrounded by steep precipices and you cannot turn back: you must go on. The enemy are at hand; if you stop, they will push you over the side. They are already lifting a hand and planning when and where to strike.
DANTON. I have only to turn and show them my mane, and they will fall back in dismay.
WESTERMANN. Do it, then. What are you waiting for?
DANTON. Later.
PHILIPPEAUX. But your enemies are plotting. Billaud-Varenne is saying things against you. Vadier is making jokes about your quick demise. Reports of your arrest are circulating in Paris.
DANTON[tenth a shrug]. Nonsense! They wouldn't dare!
PHILIPPEAUX. Do you know what Vadier says? I hardly dare repeat it. He said, "We'll soon gut that fat turbot."
DANTON[enraged]. Did Vadier say that? Well, tell that blackguard that I'll eat his brain, and grind his skull to powder! The moment I begin fighting for my life, I am worse than a cannibal! [He flies into a rage.]
WESTERMANN. At last! Now, come!
DANTON. Where?
WESTERMANN. Speak before the clubs, inspire the people, overthrow the Committees, put down Robespierre.
DANTON. No.
PHILIPPEAUX. Why not?
DANTON. Later. I don't want to.
CAMILLE. You're injuring yourself, Danton.
WESTERMANN. It makes me rage when I see these good people afraid to act. What fiendish poison is in the air, keeping you people, whose heads are already in the noose, from moving a leg, from fighting, or at least running away? I've done all I could. I leave you; I'll find Robespierre, whom you are all afraid of—Yes, you are, though you joke about it; your very fear makes him strong—I'll tell him the truth, and he'll see for the first time a man who dares resist him. I'll break the idol! [He goes out fuming.]
PHILIPPEAUX. I'm coming with you, Westermann.
DANTON[quietly, and with a touch of sarcasm]. He will break nothing. Robespierre will look at him—like that—and it will be over. Poor fellow!
PHILIPPEAUX. Danton, Danton, where are you? Where is the athlete of the Revolution?
DANTON. You are cowards. There is nothing to fear.
PHILIPPEAUX.Quos vult perdere—[He goes out.HÉRAULTrises, takes his hat, and prepares to leave.]
CAMILLE. Are you going, too, Hérault?
HÉRAULT. Camille, Westermann's style of waging war is not yours, I know. The best thing you can do is to retire altogether. Let them forget you. Why discuss it?
CAMILLE. I must satisfy my conscience.
HÉRAULT[shrugs his shoulders, then kissesLUCILE'Shand]. Good-by, Lucile.
LUCILE. Good-by. I hope to see you soon again.
HÉRAULT[with a smile]. Does one ever know?
CAMILLE. Where are you going?
HÉRAULT. Rue Saint-Honoré.
DANTON. Are you too making a visit to Robespierre?
HÉRAULT. No: that is where I usually walk. I see the carts pass by.
CAMILLE. I thought you disliked the spectacle?
HÉRAULT. It teaches me not to fear death. [He goes out withLUCILE.]
DANTON[followingHÉRAULTwith his eyes]. Poor devil, he's nervous. He blames me for not doing anything. You, too, Camille, would like to blame me; I can see it in your face. Go on, you think me a coward? You think Danton sacrifices his friends for the glory of his belly?
CAMILLE. Danton, why do you refuse?
DANTON. Children! Danton is not built like other men. Volcanic passions stir within this breast, but they are always subject to my will. My heart has tremendous needs, and my senses make terrible demands on me; but the dominating head is there. [He touches his brow.]
CAMILLE. But what is your idea?
DANTON. To save the country. Save it at all cost from our sacrilegious quarrels. Do you know the disease that is killing the Republic? Mediocrity. Too many brains are thinking about the State. No nation can stand a Mirabeau, a Brissot, a Vergniaud, a Marat, a Danton, a Desmoulins, a Robespierre. One of these geniuses could have gained the victory for Freedom. But all together, they fight with each other, and France bleeds. I took too prominent a part myself, though I must do myself the justice of saying that I never fought a Frenchman unless my life depended upon it, and even in the fury of the combat I did everything in my power to save the defeated enemy. I do not intend, for personal interest, to enter into a struggle with the greatest man of the Republic—next to myself. I do not want to depopulate France. I know Robespierre; I saw his beginning, I watched him grow from day to day, through his tenacity, his work, his faith in his ideas. His ambition grew, too, and conquered the Assembly, and all of France. One man alone is a menace to him: my popularity counterbalances his, and his morbid vanity suffers. Often—I must give him credit for it—did he attempt to stifle his instinctive envy. But the fatality of events; jealousy, stronger than reason; my enemies who excited him—everything draws us into the struggle. No matter what the result, the Republic will be shaken to its foundations. Well, it is my place to give an example of sacrifice. Let my ambition sink before his! I have drunk deep of that bitter draught, and it has left a bad taste in my mouth. Let Robespierre drain the cup if he likes. I retire to my tent. I am less resentful than Achilles, and I shall wait patiently until he offers me his hand.
CAMILLE. If one must sacrifice, why should it be you? Why not he?
DANTON[with a shrug]. Because I alone am capable. [After a moment's pause.] Because I am the stronger.
CAMILLE. And yet you hate Robespierre?
DANTON. I cannot harbor a thought of hatred. There is no hatred in me. That is not a virtue (I don't know what that means), it is only a matter of temperament.
CAMILLE. Aren't you afraid to leave the field free to your enemy?
DANTON. Ah, I know him well: he can carry the play up to the fourth act, but he is bound to ruin the denouement.
CAMILLE. Meantime, think what harm he can do! Your power is the only balancing influence against this reign of terror and violence. And what about your friends? Will you leave them to the fate that threatens them?
DANTON. I am helping them by allowing my powers a respite. They are now feeling the fear which I have inspired. Robespierre will listen to me, as soon as his jealousy allows him a breathing-spell. And my hands will be free the moment I am no longer the representative of a party, but of all mankind. You must treat men as you would children, allow them the toys they want, in order to prevent their being lost together with you.
CAMILLE. You are too generous. Your renunciation will never be understood. Robespierre will not believe in your sincerity. He is suspicious and he will find some Machiavellian explanation for it. You have every reason to fear that your enemies will profit by your abdication to strike a blow at you.
DANTON. Danton does not abdicate: he is retiring temporarily from the conflict; but he is nearby in case of danger. Don't worry; all by myself, I am the strongest of them all; men like me do not fear to be forgotten; all we have to do is to remain quiet for a while in order that the people may notice what a great difference is made by our absence. Why, I shall even increase my popularity. Instead of disputing the power with the Achæans, I allow that power to weigh heavy on their puny shoulders.
CAMILLE. The first use they will make of it will be against you. The whole pack of Vadier's men will be down upon you.
DANTON. I'll attend to them! I am used to fighting monsters. When I was a child, I struggled with bulls. This broken nose of mine, this torn lip, this battered face—it all bears marks of their horns. One day I chased some wild pigs through the woods, and they bit my stomach. I'm not afraid of Vadiers. And besides, they are too afraid.
CAMILLE. But what if they did dare? They have recalled Saint-Just from the army in order to reassure themselves. They say they are waiting for his return to begin action.
DANTON. Well, if they push me too far, on their heads be it! I have a thick skin, and I am not easily insulted, but the day I throw myself upon them I shan't stop until the last one is laid low. The dirty scoundrels! I could make a mouthful of the lot of them! [LUCILEruns into the room, goes toCAMILLE,and says in a frightened voice:]
LUCILE. Robespierre! [EnterROBESPIERRE,reserved and impassive; he glances about quickly and cautiously, and makes no other movement.]
CAMILLE[cordially, but a little ironically, as he greetsROBESPIERRE]. My dear Maximilien, you come in the nick of time. You have been uppermost in our conversation during the past hour.
DANTON[embarrassed]. How are you, Robespierre?
[Undecided whether to offer his handy he waits for his rival to make the first step.ROBESPIERREdoes not reply, but shakes hands formally withLUCILEandCAMILLE,and bows quickly toDANTON.He then sits down.CAMILLEandDANTONremain standing.LUCILEbusies herself as before.]
LUCILE. How kind of you to find time to come and visit us! And you must be very busy! Sit closer to the fire. There's a fog outside that chills you to the bone. And how are your dear landlords and hosts, Citizens Duplay, and my little friend Eléonore?
ROBESPIERRE. Very well, thank you, Lucile.—Camille, I have something to discuss with you.
LUCILE. Shall I leave?