Samuel Coleridge - The Complete Works of Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Of declamation, thunder’d in this hall,

Till reason midst a labyrinth of words

Perplex’d, in silence seem’d to yield assent.

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

Hébert 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 assembled in her sons 50

Assented, 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 assassinate, 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 hell-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 Hébert thundered out their blasphemies,

And Danton talk’d of virtue?

Robespierre. Oh, that Brissot

Were here again to thunder in this hall,

That Hébert 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 anticipation 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 bloody banquet? when appall’d

The hireling sons of England spread the sail 130

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 135

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 Crancé. No wonder, friend,

That we are traitors — that our heads must fall 140

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, 145

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 — 150

Not one poor blush of truth! most likely tale!

That I who ruined Brissot’s towering hopes,

I who discover’d Hébert’s impious wiles,

And sharp’d for Danton’s recreant neck the axe,

Should now be traitor! had I been so minded, 155

Think ye I had destroyed 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 forg’d the shameless falsehood?

Collot d’Herbois. Ask you proofs? 160