Samuel Coleridge - The Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge

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 tomorrow’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 tomorrow’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 — Tomorrow

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 — bloodstain’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