Danton, trois actes
Danton, Three Acts
CHARACTERS
DANTON, age 35. — A Shakespearean Gargantua, jovial and grandiose. Bulldog muzzle, voice of a bull. The forehead receding and bare, the eyes pale blue with a bold gaze, the nose short and broad, the upper lip deformed by a scar, the jaw heavy and violent. Athletic, sanguine.
ROBESPIERRE, age 36. — Medium height, delicate constitution. Brown hair. Dark green eyes, large, fixed, and near-sighted. Thick spectacles, pushed up onto the forehead. Straight nose, slightly upturned at the tip. Pale complexion. Thin lips, with a disdainful, unsettling expression, not without charm.
CAMILLE DESMOULINS, age 34. — Brown eyes, slightly divergent, long black hair. Pale, bilious face, irregular, swelling at the temples. Mobile expression, whimsical, seductive and disturbing, passing through every emotion, from grace to grimace. Very feminine, laughing and weeping by turns, and sometimes both at once. There is no need to attempt reproducing his stammer. But his speech, his movements, his features always have something uncertain and contradictory about them.
SAINT-JUST, age 27. — Long blond hair, powdered, blue eyes. Oval face, with an elongated chin. The appearance of a young aristocratic Englishman, calm, of cold and unshakable will. Beneath it, the ferment of a fanatical faith.
HÉRAULT DE SÉCHELLES, age 34. — Handsome man, and elegant. The last representative in the Convention of the manners and wit of the old regime. A blend of irony and affectionate indulgence. Very peaceful, very self-possessed.
BILLAUD-VARENNE, age 38. — Tall, face broad and pale. Wig of red hair. Broad shoulders. Somber, absorbed by fixed ideas; crushed with fatigue, often looking distracted, with sudden bursts of wild exasperation.
VADIER, age 58. — “Gascon Voltaire.” A tall, bony old man; hooked nose, pointed chin, thick eyebrows, thin mouth, wide and pinched, yellow complexion. “Bent double, raising his white head to snicker under his breath, with a sharp, strident sound that vibrated without resonating.”
PHILIPPEAUX, age 38. — Thin. Cold, severe face. Large dark eyes. Long nose. Sparse, slicked-down hair. An ascetic and violent air.
FABRE D’ÉGLANTINE, age 39.
GENERAL WESTERMANN, age 43.
FOUQUIER-TINVILLE, public prosecutor.
HERMAN, president of the Revolutionary Tribunal.
GENERAL HANRIOT.
LUCILE DESMOULINS, age 22. — Blonde, petite, dark eyes, frizzy hair. “Flitting about like a sprite, baring her teeth like a cat.”
ÉLÉONORE DUPLAY, age 25. — Tall, calm eyes, pure features of a classical line. Beneath her coldness, a blushing soul shows through at moments. — “Cornélie Copeau.”
MADAME DUPLAY, age 59.
THE PEOPLE
In Paris. March–April 1794.
ACT ONE
AT CAMILLE DESMOULINS’ HOME.
A bourgeois drawing room of fanciful taste, in which all styles mingle. On the walls, licentious prints of the century. On the mantelpiece, a bust of an ancient philosopher. On the table, a miniature Bastille. A child’s cradle in a corner of the room. A window is open. Gray, dreary sky. It is raining. Camille and Lucile, her small child in her arms, look outside. Philippeaux paces back and forth, and glances through the window as he passes. Hérault de Séchelles, seated in an armchair near the fireplace, observes his friends. Sound of a joyful crowd outside.
SCENE ONE
LUCILE, CAMILLE, HÉRAULT, PHILIPPEAUX
LUCILE, leaning out the window
There they are, there they are! They’re passing at the end of the street!
CAMILLE, shouting
Bon voyage, Père Duchesne! Don’t forget your furnaces!
HÉRAULT, softly
Camille, don’t show yourself, my friend.
CAMILLE
Come see our old friends, Hérault! The general of the clubs, Ronsin; and Vincent, who wanted to have your head, Philippeaux; and Hébert, the braggart, who dined every evening on mine; and the Prussian Cloots, the handsome Anacharsis! The last voyage of young Anacharsis! The human race is in a fine predicament: they are depriving it of its orator! The guillotine has its work cut out today. What a harvest!
LUCILE, to her child
Look, Horace, look at those scoundrels. And Commander Hanriot, galloping with his great saber, do you see him, darling?
PHILIPPEAUX
He’s overdoing his zeal. He should be on the tumbril too.
It looks like a festival: the people are in high spirits.
Outside, a clarinet plays a grotesque tune. The people laugh uproariously.
What’s that?
LUCILE
It’s that little hunchbacked man, near the tumbril, playing the clarinet!
They burst out laughing.
Why don’t you come, Hérault? Doesn’t it interest you? You look melancholy. What are you thinking about?
The noise gradually fades down the street.
HÉRAULT
I was thinking, Camille, that Anacharsis is thirty-eight, and Hébert thirty-five, your age, Philippeaux, and Vincent twenty-seven, six years younger than me — and than you, Desmoulins.
CAMILLE
That’s true.
Suddenly serious, he moves away from the window and comes to the middle of the room: he stands motionless for a moment, chin in hand.
LUCILE, at the window
Rain! Oh, what a shame!
CAMILLE, displeased
Don’t stay at the window, Lucile, it’s cold. Come inside.
LUCILE closes the window and returns to the room with her child; she hums
It’s raining, it’s raining, shepherdess, Bring in your white sheep, Quickly to the fold. Come, shepherdess, come.
CAMILLE
Lucile, Lucile, wicked woman, how can you sing that song? I cannot hear it without thinking that the man who wrote it languishes at this very hour in a prison.
LUCILE
Fabre? That’s true! Our poor Églantine — they’ve locked him up in the Luxembourg, sick as he was. — Bah! He’ll get out.
HÉRAULT
Pur troppo.
LUCILE
What’s he saying now? Something horrid, I’m sure.
PHILIPPEAUX
A sad thing, all too true.
LUCILE
Be quiet, birds of ill omen! Fabre will get out, I tell you. Aren’t we here for him?
HÉRAULT
Danton himself could do nothing to save him.
LUCILE
Oh yes! Danton, perhaps. But when Camille takes up his pen and writes out everything that’s in his heart, you’ll see whether the prison doors don’t open of their own accord.
HÉRAULT
For whom?
LUCILE
For the tyrants.
HÉRAULT
Reckless shepherdess, how poorly you guard your sheep! — “Quickly to the fold!” Listen to your own song.
A maid comes to take the child from Lucile’s arms and carries it away. Lucile speaks in a low voice with her, goes out, comes back, is always in motion throughout this scene, busying herself with the thousand small things of the household, and takes part in the conversation only heedlessly.
CAMILLE
Lucile is right: we must fight. It is for us to direct the Revolution we have made. This voice has not yet lost its power over the crowd. It was enough to speak to send the enragés to the guillotine. We have never been stronger — let us press our advantage: the Luxembourg is no harder to take than the Bastille. We toppled nine centuries of monarchy; we can surely overcome a committee of scoundrels, who hold their power only from us, and who dare use it to bleed the Convention and France dry.
PHILIPPEAUX, pacing with agitation
The villains! If they were content merely to murder! But no. They have implicated Fabre in the embezzlements and plundering of the East India Company; they have invented that far-fetched tale, that story of Jews and German bankers buying our friend to corrupt the Assembly. They know they are lying; but their conscience would not be satisfied if they did not begin by sullying their enemy before killing him.
HÉRAULT
We have virtuous enemies: it is a consolation, when one is being slaughtered, to be slaughtered in the name of sound principles.
CAMILLE
France hates Tartuffe. Let us thrash the pedant and cudgel Basile.
PHILIPPEAUX
I have done my duty: let each man do the same. I have dragged into broad daylight the brigands of the Army of the West, the general staff at Saumur. I have seized these wretches by the throat; and nothing will make me loose my grip but the fall of my head. I have no illusions: I know what it costs to attack General Rossignol and his backers. The Committee is gathering its forces at present; but only the better to destroy me. What infamy are they trying to pin on me? I burn with fever thinking of it. Let them guillotine me if they wish; but let them not touch my honor!
HÉRAULT
I am calmer than you, Philippeaux. I already know the pretext they will use to dispose of me. I have the misfortune of believing that one can be the enemy of Europe’s governments without hating everyone who is not French. I had friends abroad; I did not think it necessary to renounce them, to flatter the madness of Billaud-Varenne and lunatics of his kind. Someone broke into my house; they forced my drawers; they stole a few letters of pure affection: that is enough; I am now part of the famous conspiracy paid for by Pitt’s gold to restore the king.
CAMILLE
Are you certain of what you’re saying?
HÉRAULT
Quite certain, Camille. My head barely holds on.
CAMILLE
Then take cover.
HÉRAULT
There is no shelter in the world for a republican. Kings hunt him, and the Republic devours him.
CAMILLE
You lack courage. We are still the most popular men in the Republic.
HÉRAULT
Lafayette was popular too, and Pétion, and Roland. Capet himself was popular. A week ago, the man who just passed by was the idol of the people. Who can flatter himself that he is loved by that brute? At moments, one thinks one glimpses in its clouded eyes glimmers of one’s own thought. What conscience does not find itself, one day in its life, in accord with the conscience of the crowd? But that accord cannot last: it is folly to persist in pursuing it. The brain of the people is a sea, teeming with monsters and nightmares.
CAMILLE
Those are grand words! We puff out our cheeks to say the word People, and we pronounce it with a ridiculous solemnity, so that Europe will believe in some mysterious force of which we are the instruments. I know these people: they have worked for me. The donkey in the fable says: “I cannot carry two saddles”; but he has no idea that he might carry none at all. We had trouble enough getting them to carry out our Revolution: they did it only reluctantly. It was we who were the engineers and machinists of this sublime movement; without us, they would not have stirred. They did not ask for the Republic: it was I who led them to it. I persuaded them that they had wanted to be free, to make them cherish liberty as their own handiwork. It is the eternal means of directing the weak. You convince them that they have wanted something they never thought of; before long they want it indeed, like lions.
HÉRAULT
Be careful, Camille; you are a child; you are playing with fire. You think the people followed you because you were running toward the same goal. They have passed you now. Don’t try to stop them: you cannot wrench —
CAMILLE
You need only throw them another one. Come now, has my Vieux Cordelier not been heard? Does its voice not ring to the farthest reaches of the Republic?
LUCILE
If you knew what a success his latest issue was! From all sides people write to him: tears, kisses, declarations of love. Oh! If I were the jealous sort! They beg him to continue, to save the country.
HÉRAULT
How many of those friends will come to his rescue if he is attacked?
CAMILLE
I need no one. To me, my inkwell! The sling of David (he shows his pen) has just felled the bully of the guillotine, the king of blackguards and brawlers. I’ve broken the pipe of Père Duchesne, that famous pipe, like the trumpet of Jericho, which, when it had smoked three times around a reputation, brought that reputation tumbling down by itself! From here flew the dart that struck the impudent, cowardly Goliath on the forehead. I raised against him the jeers of his own people. You saw just now, around the tumbril, the furnaces of Père Duchesne? It was I who had the idea of having them carried. My invention was a mad success.
Why are you looking at me?
HÉRAULT
A thought.
CAMILLE
Tell me.
HÉRAULT
Have you ever thought about death?
CAMILLE
Death? No, no, I don’t like that. Ugh! It smells bad!
HÉRAULT
You’ve never thought about how much it hurts to die?
LUCILE
How horrible! What a conversation!
HÉRAULT
You are a good, a dear, a charming child, and yet you are cruel — cruel as a child.
CAMILLE, moved
You really think I’m cruel?
LUCILE
There he goes with tears in his eyes now.
CAMILLE, moved
It’s true, he suffered, that man. The sweat of agony, the heart gripped with terror, awaiting the crushing out of life — oh! it must be a horrible pain! Contemptible as he was, he suffered as if he were an honest man, perhaps more. Poor Hébert!
LUCILE, her arms around Camille’s neck
My poor Bouli-Boula, you’re not going to grieve over the death of a scoundrel who wanted to cut your throat?
CAMILLE, with anger
Yes. And why am I attacked with such indignity? Si quis atra dente me petiverit, inultus ut flebo puer!
LUCILE, to Hérault
And you, dare say again that my Camille is cruel!
HÉRAULT
But of course I dare. This dear boy! He is perhaps the cruelest of us all.
CAMILLE
Oh! Don’t say that, Hérault: I shall end by believing it.
LUCILE, to Hérault, threatening him with her finger
Say it isn’t true, or I’ll scratch your eyes out.
HÉRAULT
Very well, no, it isn’t true: the cruelest one is you.
LUCILE
That’s more like it. That, I’ll accept.
CAMILLE
What you said upsets me deeply, Hérault. It’s true, I’ve done so much harm, and yet I wasn’t wicked. I made myself the attorney of the lantern. I don’t know what diabolical mischief drives me. Through me, the Girondins rot in the fields soaked by this freezing rain. My Brissot Unmasked caused thirty young, charming, generous heads to be cut off. They loved life, as I do; they were made to live, to be happy, as I am. They too had sweet and dear Luciles. O Lucile, let us flee, let us save ourselves from this murderous activity that harms others, and perhaps ourselves. What if we too, what if you too, what if our little Horace! Oh! If only I could become unknown to all men! Where is the refuge, the underground, that would hide me from every gaze, with my wife, my child, and my books? O ubi campi Guisiaque.
PHILIPPEAUX
You have entered the whirlwind: you can no longer leave it.
HÉRAULT
Don’t force him to stay in this war — it is not made for him.
PHILIPPEAUX
He said so himself just now: one must do one’s duty.
HÉRAULT, pointing to Camille embracing Lucile
Look at him: doesn’t Camille’s duty seem to you to be happiness?
CAMILLE
It’s true; I have a marvelous vocation for happiness. There are people who are made to suffer. Suffering disgusts me: I want none of it.
LUCILE
Have I thwarted your vocation?
CAMILLE
My Vesta, my good wolf, my little Laridon! You are greatly guilty! You have made me too happy.
LUCILE
Oh! The coward who complains!
CAMILLE
It’s because I have lost, you see, all strength, all faith.
LUCILE
How so?
CAMILLE
I used to believe in the immortality of the soul. When I saw the miseries of the world, I told myself: the world would be too absurd if virtue did not have its reward elsewhere. But now I am so happy, so completely happy, that I fear I have received my reward on earth; and I have lost my proof of immortality.
HÉRAULT
Try never to find it again.
CAMILLE
How simple it is to be happy! And how few people know how to be!
HÉRAULT
The simpler a thing is, the more it escapes men. They claim that men want to be happy. What a delusion! They want to be miserable — they insist upon it absolutely. The Pharaohs and the Sesostrises, kings with the heads of hawks and the claws of tigers, the pyres of the Inquisition, the rotting dungeons of the Bastilles, war that slaughters and ruins — that is what pleases them. One must have the obscurity of mysteries to be believed. One must have the absurdity of suffering to be loved! But reason, tolerance, shared love, happiness — faugh! It is an insult to them!
CAMILLE
You are bitter. One must do good for men in spite of themselves.
HÉRAULT
Everyone meddles in that nowadays; the results are mediocre.
CAMILLE
Poor Republic! What have they done with you? — O flowering fields, rejuvenated earth, whose air is lighter and whose light is clearer since clear reason with its fresh breath has swept from the French sky the dreary superstitions and the old Gothic saints — rounds of young people dancing in the meadows — heroic armies, fraternal breasts, a wall of bronze on which the lances of Europe shatter — joy of beauty, of harmonious forms, conversations of the Portico, noble Panathenaea, where girls with white arms pass by, wrapped in supple draperies — freedom to live, pleasure conquering all that is ugly, hypocritical, or morose — Republic of Aspasia and the fair Alcibiades, what have you become? — A red cap, a dirty shirt, a hoarse voice, the fixed ideas of a madman, the pedantic rod of a schoolmaster from Arras!
HÉRAULT
You are an Athenian among barbarians, Ovid among the Scythians. You will not reform them.
CAMILLE
I shall try, at least.
HÉRAULT
You’re wasting your time — your life, perhaps.
CAMILLE
What do I have to fear?
HÉRAULT
Beware of Robespierre.
CAMILLE
I’ve known him since childhood: a friend has the right to say anything.
HÉRAULT
An unpleasant truth is more easily forgiven —
LUCILE
Be quiet; he must be great, he must save the fatherland. — Anyone who disagrees with me shall have none of my chocolate.
HÉRAULT, smiling
I say no more.
Lucile exits.
PHILIPPEAUX
So you are resolved to act, Desmoulins?
CAMILLE
Yes.
PHILIPPEAUX
Then no truce. Press them relentlessly, with your pen at their backs. The worst danger is the skirmishing war you wage. You content yourself with harassing them with your stinging arrows; that only gives them greater strength against you. Aim for the heart if you can: let us finish this in one stroke.
HÉRAULT
My friends, I do not approve the course you are taking; but if you are resolved upon it, at least you must try to put every chance on your side. Well then, to go to war, it is not enough — (may Camille forgive me) — it is not enough to have the pen of Desmoulins. The people do not read. The success of the Vieux Cordelier deceives you; it does not penetrate the crowd; its readership is quite different. You know it well, Camille; you complained yourself that one of your issues had been sold for twenty sous by the publisher; it is aristocrats like us who buy it; the people know nothing of it except what their club orators tell them: they are not on your side. You may raise your tone and stock your memory with marketplace expressions all you like — you will never be of the people. There is only one way to act upon them, and that is to throw Danton into the fray. His thunder alone is capable of stirring that heavy human chaos. Danton need only shake his mane to rouse the Forum. But Danton lets himself go, he falls asleep, he leaves Paris; he no longer speaks at the Convention. No one knows what has become of him. Who has seen him lately? Where is he? What is he doing?
Danton enters with Westermann.
SCENE II
THE SAME, DANTON, WESTERMANN
DANTON
Danton carouses. Danton fondles women. Danton rests from his labors with other labors, like Hercules!
Desmoulins goes to meet Danton and shakes his hand, laughing. Westermann hangs back and keeps a worried air.
CAMILLE
Hercules does not lay down his club while monsters remain to be slain.
DANTON
Don’t speak of killing. The word horrifies me. France reeks of blood; the stench of slaughtered flesh rises from the ground as from a butcher’s shop. I have just crossed the Seine: the sun was setting. The Seine was red; it seemed to roll waves of human blood. If our rivers too are defiled, where shall we wash our rivers, where shall we wash our hands? Enough death! Let us make the Republic fruitful. Let harvests and men spring from the rejuvenated homeland. Let us make love and tend our fields.
CAMILLE
May some god grant us that leisure, Danton! It is on you that we count.
DANTON
What do you want, children?
PHILIPPEAUX
That you help us fight!
DANTON
What do you need me for? Must I always do everything! You are all the same. Look at Westermann. There’s a man, at least! He’s waged war, he’s saved the fatherland three or four times; before sitting down to dinner, he’ll slit a man’s throat to whet his appetite. And he needs my help too! Must I mount a horse and saber in his place!
WESTERMANN
If it’s a matter of fighting, I yield my place to no one. Lead me to an open field; show me a crowd to sweep away, and you’ll see how I acquit myself. But speaking, answering the phrase-mongers of the Convention, foiling the dirty machinations of the scoundrels on the Committee who are working to ruin me — that I cannot do. I feel lost in this city: they are a pack snapping at my heels, and I am forbidden to move; I must endure everything without doing a thing to defend myself. Will you let me be devoured without coming to my aid? A thousand thunderbolts! I fought for you once — I have the same enemies. My cause is yours too — yours, Danton — yours, Philippeaux, you know it well!
PHILIPPEAUX
I know it, Westermann. It is because you attacked, as I did, Rossignol, Ronsin, all the scoundrels who disgrace the army, that the Jacobins pursue you with their furious outcries. We shall not abandon you.
CAMILLE, to Danton
We must act. I bring you my pen, and Westermann his sword. Lead us, Danton. Old campaigner, you have the experience of crowds: you know the strategy of revolutions; put yourself at our head — there is another Tenth of August to be made.
DANTON
Later.
PHILIPPEAUX
You disappear from the arena, you let yourself be forgotten. Show yourself. What are you doing, hiding for weeks in your province?
DANTON
I embrace the native soil, to draw from it, like Antaeus, renewed vigor.
PHILIPPEAUX
You are looking for pretexts to withdraw from the fight.
DANTON
I do not know how to lie. — It is true.
I am sick of men. I vomit them up.
HÉRAULT
You extend credit to women, by all appearances.
DANTON
Women at least have the frankness of being nothing but what they are, what we all are: animals. They go straight to pleasure, without trying to lie to themselves, to cloak their instincts in the mantle of reason. But I despise the hypocrisy of intelligence, the sanguinary idiocy of these idealists, these dictators of impotence, who call the frankness of legitimate needs corruption, and pretend to deny nature so as to satisfy, under the name of virtue, their monstrous pride and their fury of destruction. Oh! To be a brute, a good and honest brute, who asks nothing but to love others, provided they leave him a place in the sun!
CAMILLE
Yes, we are eaten away by hypocrisy.
DANTON
The most odious of hypocrisies! The hypocrisy of the dagger. The virtuous guillotine!
PHILIPPEAUX
We destroyed Capet, and it was so that Tallien, Fouché, Collot d’Herbois could reinstate the dragonnades in Bordeaux and Lyon!
DANTON
These fanatics have founded a new religion, secular and compulsory, that allows the proconsuls to hang, hack, and burn, in the name of virtue.
CAMILLE
There is no greater danger in a state than men of principle. They do not seek to do good, but to be right; no suffering moves them. The only morality for them, the only politics, is to impose their ideas.
HÉRAULT, reciting in a mocking tone
“An honest man has quite other desires! He is happy only giving pleasures.”
LUCILE, re-entering, catching the last words, and continuing the quotation heedlessly
“A chaplain is not so particular. He spurs his unruly mount, Without inquiring whether the young thing, Under his rule, has any pleasure or not.”
HÉRAULT
Heavens! You know your authors.
LUCILE
Well, what harm is there in it? Everyone knows La Pucelle.
DANTON
You’re right, little one. It’s the breviary of honest women.
HÉRAULT
Have you ever recited any of it to Robespierre?
LUCILE
I wouldn’t dream of it.
CAMILLE
Have you seen him when someone tells an off-color joke in his presence? His forehead wrinkles with great furrows and rises toward his skull; he clenches his fists; he grimaces like a monkey with a toothache.
HÉRAULT
An inheritance from his father. It is from Rousseau that he gets his hatred of Voltaire.
LUCILE, heedlessly
What! He is Rousseau’s son?
HÉRAULT, mocking
You didn’t know?
DANTON
Jesuitries, all of it. He is more corrupt than the others. When one hides one’s love of pleasure, it means one has bad morals.
PHILIPPEAUX
Perhaps; but if Robespierre loves pleasure, he hides it well: and he is right, Danton. You show it too much. You would sacrifice your fortune for one night at the Palais-Royal.
DANTON
It’s because I prefer a good fortune to a bad one.
PHILIPPEAUX
Meanwhile, you compromise your reputation; opinion follows your actions; and what will posterity say, when it learns that Danton, on the eve of a decisive battle for the state, thought of nothing but pleasure?
DANTON
Opinion is a whore, honor is rubbish, and posterity is a stinking ditch.
PHILIPPEAUX
And virtue, Danton?
DANTON
Go ask my wife if she is satisfied with mine.
PHILIPPEAUX
You don’t believe what you say. You slander yourself for sport — you are playing your enemies’ game.
WESTERMANN, who has been struggling to contain himself, bursts out
You are all babblers and braggarts who boast. Some declaim about their virtues, others about their vices. All you know is talk. Your city is a nest of lawyers and prosecutors. The enemy threatens us. Danton, yes or no, will you charge?
DANTON
Leave me alone! I have lost my life and my peace of mind to save the Republic: it is not worth a single one of the hours I have sacrificed to it. Enough! Danton has earned the right to live at last for himself.
CAMILLE
Danton has not earned the right to be a Sieyès.
DANTON
Am I a one-eyed horse, condemned to turn the millstone until he drops?
CAMILLE
You have launched yourself into a gorge bordered by precipices. You cannot retrace your steps. You must go on. The enemy is there, breathing down your neck; if you stop, he throws you over the edge. Already he raises his hand and calculates the blow he means to strike.
DANTON
I need only turn around and show them my muzzle, and they will fall thunderstruck.
WESTERMANN
Then do it. What are you waiting for?
DANTON
Later.
PHILIPPEAUX
Your enemies are stirring. Billaud-Varenne pours out enraged words against you. Vadier jokes about your coming fall. The rumor of your arrest has already spread through Paris.
DANTON, shrugging his shoulders
Nonsense! They wouldn’t dare.
PHILIPPEAUX
Do you know what Vadier said? I hesitated to repeat his vile words. Vadier said of you: “That fat stuffed turbot — we’ll gut him soon enough.”
DANTON, thundering
Vadier said that? Well then, answer — answer that scoundrel that I will eat his brains, that I will crush his skull! When I fear for my life, I will become more ferocious than a cannibal!
He foams with rage.
WESTERMANN
At last! Come!
DANTON
Where?
WESTERMANN
To speak to the clubs, rouse the people, overthrow the committees, bring down Robespierre.
DANTON
No.
PHILIPPEAUX
Why?
DANTON
Later. I don’t want to.
CAMILLE
You are destroying yourself, Danton.
WESTERMANN
I am choking when I see the fear of action that weighs on the honest men here. What diabolical poison runs through this air, that men like you, one day from the scaffold, cross their arms and wait, without daring to make a move, either to fight or to flee! I can bear it no longer. I leave you. I shall act without you. I’ll go find this Robespierre of whom you are all afraid (for you are afraid of him, yes, even while mocking him); your timidity is all that gives that wretch his strength. I shall spit the truth in his face: he will see for the first time a man who stands up to him. I shall smash the idol!
He exits impetuously.
PHILIPPEAUX
I’m coming with you, Westermann.
DANTON, calmly, with a touch of contempt
He won’t smash anything at all. Robespierre will look at him — like this — and that will be the end of it! Poor devil!
PHILIPPEAUX
And the Revolution?
DANTON
You are cowards. There is nothing to fear.
PHILIPPEAUX
Quos vult perdere…
He exits.
Hérault rises, takes his hat, and prepares to leave.
CAMILLE
You’re leaving too, Hérault?
HÉRAULT
Camille, you are not made for war in the Westermann manner: I know it. But then, withdraw from it entirely. Let yourself be forgotten. What is the use of speaking?
CAMILLE
To satisfy one’s conscience.
Hérault shrugs his shoulders gently and kisses Lucile’s hand.
HÉRAULT
Farewell, Lucile.
LUCILE
Until we meet again.
HÉRAULT, smiling
Can one ever be sure?
CAMILLE
Where are you going?
HÉRAULT
Rue Saint-Honoré.
CAMILLE
You’re going to visit Robespierre too?
HÉRAULT
No: my usual walk. I watch the tumbrils pass.
CAMILLE
I thought that sight displeased you.
HÉRAULT
It is to learn how to die.
He exits. Lucile accompanies him.
SCENE III
DANTON, CAMILLE
DANTON, watching Hérault leave
Poor fellow, he worries; he reproaches me for my inaction. And you too, Camille, you want to blame me — I can see it in your eyes. Go ahead, don’t hold back, my boy. You take me for a coward? You think Danton sacrifices his friends and his glory to his belly?
CAMILLE
Danton, why won’t you?
DANTON
Children, Danton is not built to the measure of other men. Volcanic passions blaze in this breast; but they make of me only what I will them to make. My heart has vast appetites, my senses roar like lions; but the tamer is here!
He points to his head.
CAMILLE
Then what is your thinking?
DANTON
To spare the fatherland. To save it at all costs from our sacrilegious quarrels. Do you know the disease that is killing the Republic? It lacks mediocrity. Too many minds, too many great wills are occupied with the state. Poorer in men, the Republic would have been stronger. It is too much for one nation to have had Mirabeau, Brissot, Vergniaud, Marat — Danton — Desmoulins, Robespierre. Any one of these geniuses would have made Liberty triumph. Together, they devour one another, and France is drenched in their hatreds. I have taken too great a part in it myself, though my heart does me the justice that I have never fought a Frenchman without being compelled to do so in defense of my life, and that even in the fury of battle, I have done everything to save my fallen enemies. I will not now, for a personal interest, engage in a struggle with the greatest man of the Republic, after myself. The forest thins around us; I will not depopulate the Republic. — I know Robespierre: I watched him rise from the earth, grow day by day through his tenacity, his toil, his faith in his ideas; and his ambition grew apace, conquering the assembly, imposing himself on France. One man alone still stands in his shadow; my popularity counterbalances his, and his morbid vanity bleeds from it. Several times — I do him this justice — he has tried to silence his instincts of envy. But the fatality of events, his jealousy stronger than reason, my enraged enemies who incite him — everything drives us to the assault. Whatever the outcome, the Republic will be shaken to its foundations. Well then! It is for me to set the example of sacrifice. Let his ambition no longer be troubled by mine. I have drunk deeply of that bitter draught, and it has left my mouth sour. Let Robespierre drain the cup if he will. I shall retire to my tent. Less vindictive than Achilles, I shall wait patiently for him to extend his hand.
CAMILLE
If one of you must sacrifice himself, why should it be you and not him?
DANTON, shrugging his shoulders
Because I alone am capable of it — (after a moment of silence) — and because I am the stronger.
CAMILLE
Yet you despise Robespierre.
DANTON
Hatred is unbearable to my heart. I am without gall, not from virtue (I don’t know what that is), but from temperament.
CAMILLE
Aren’t you worried about leaving the field open to your enemy?
DANTON
Pah! I’ve probed his depths: he might well carry the play to the fourth act; but he would infallibly botch his denouement.
CAMILLE
In the meantime, how much harm he can do! Your strength is the only counterweight to the regime of violence and fanatical terror. And what of your friends? Do you abandon them to the fate that threatens them?
DANTON
I serve them better by laying down my power for a time. They suffer now for the fear I inspire. Robespierre will listen to me when his jealousy allows him to breathe. And I shall have freer hands to act when I am no longer the representative of a party, but of humanity. One must treat men like children, and know how to yield to them the toys their greed demands, to prevent them from stubbornly insisting on destroying themselves along with you.
CAMILLE
You are too generous. A renunciation like yours will be understood by no one. Robespierre cannot believe in the sincerity of your withdrawal; his suspicious mind will seek, and find, Machiavellian stratagems in it. Beware lest your enemies profit from your abdication to strike you down.
DANTON
Danton does not abdicate; he withdraws momentarily from the fight; but he remains ever ready to re-enter it. Rest easy: by myself alone, I am stronger than all of them, and men of my kind need not fear oblivion; they need only be silent a moment to make the enormous emptiness of the world felt, when they are no longer there to fill it. I serve my very popularity by stepping aside. Instead of contesting power with the Achaeans, I let it crush their feeble shoulders.
CAMILLE
The first use they will make of it will be against you. The whole pack of Vadiers will rush in for the kill.
DANTON
I’ll rip apart more than one of them! I am accustomed to fighting monsters. As a child, I wrestled with bulls. This crushed nose, this split lip, this muzzle still bear the marks of their bloody horns. Half-wild boars, one day when I was chasing them with great shouts through the meadows, bit me savagely in the belly. I do not fear the Vadiers. Besides, they are too cowardly.
CAMILLE
What if, however, they dared! To steel their nerve, they have just recalled Saint-Just from the army; it is said they await his return before acting.
DANTON
Well then, if they push me to the limit, let the responsibility for the struggle crush them! My hide is tough, and I bear insults patiently. But from the day I launch myself against them, I shall not stop until everything is laid low. The wretches! I would make a single mouthful of them all!
SCENE IV
THE SAME, ROBESPIERRE, LUCILE
Lucile enters hurriedly.
LUCILE, running to Camille — in a frightened voice
Robespierre!
Robespierre enters, cold, impassive; he looks about with a sharp, rapid gaze; he makes no gesture.
CAMILLE, eager and slightly ironic, goes to meet him
Ah! Dear Maximilien, you arrive at just the right moment. For the past hour you have been presiding, though absent, over our discussions.
DANTON, awkward
Good day, Robespierre.
Unsure whether to offer his hand, he waits for his rival to make the first advance. Robespierre does not respond, coldly shakes hands with Lucile and Camille, gives Danton a brief nod, and sits down. Camille and Danton remain standing. Lucile, ever in motion.
LUCILE
How kind of you to find time to visit us, in the midst of your duties! Sit closer to the fire. There is a fog outside that chills the soul. How are your dear hosts, Citizen Duplay, and my little friend Éléonore?
ROBESPIERRE
Thank you, Lucile. — Camille, I wish to speak with you.
LUCILE
Would you like me to leave you alone?
ROBESPIERRE
No, not you.
CAMILLE, stopping Danton, who has made a move to withdraw
Danton shares in all our thoughts.
ROBESPIERRE
So public rumor says. I was reluctant to believe it.
CAMILLE
Does that displease you?
ROBESPIERRE
Perhaps.
DANTON
What do you expect? There is one thing you will never prevent: Danton being loved.
ROBESPIERRE, scornful
The name of love is common; its reality is rare.
DANTON, maliciously
There are certain men, it is said, who never know it.
ROBESPIERRE, after a brief moment of silence, coldly, his hands slightly trembling
I have not come to discuss Danton’s debaucheries. — Camille, you persist, despite my warnings, in following the path onto which bad counsel and your recklessness have cast you. Your malicious pamphlet will sow division throughout France. You spend your wit undermining the credit of men essential to the Republic. Every reactionary force arms itself with your sarcasms against liberty. For a long time I have disarmed the hatreds you stir up; I have saved you twice: I will not always save you. The state is alarmed by the conspiracies of the factious; I have no will against that of the state.
CAMILLE, stung and stinging
Spare yourself the trouble of thinking so much about me. Your solicitude touches me, Maximilien, but I need no one: I can defend myself alone, and I walk without leading-strings.
ROBESPIERRE
Vain man, do not answer back: your recklessness is your only excuse.
CAMILLE
I want no excuse. I have served the fatherland well. I defend the Republic against the Republicans. I have spoken freely; I have told the truth. When every truth is no longer fit to be spoken, it means there is no longer a Republic. The motto of Republics is like the winds that blow upon the waves of the sea. Tollunt, sed attollunt! They agitate them, but they raise them up!
ROBESPIERRE
The Republic does not yet exist, Desmoulins; we are creating it. It is not with liberty that one founds liberty. Like Rome in times of trial, the threatened nation has submitted to a dictatorship in order to break the obstacles and to conquer. It is a mockery to claim that when Europe and the factions threaten to destroy the Republic forever, one has the right to say anything, to do anything, and to furnish the enemy with weapons through one’s words and deeds.
CAMILLE
What weapons do I give them? I have defended the purest thing in the world: fraternity, holy equality, the gentleness of republican principles, that res sacra miser, that respect for the unfortunate that our sublime Constitution commands. I have made liberty loved. I have wished to make the radiant image of happiness shine before the eyes of nations.
ROBESPIERRE
Happiness! There is the fatal word with which you draw to yourselves every form of selfishness and every craving. Who does not want happiness? But it is not the happiness of Persepolis that we offer men — it is that of Sparta. Happiness is virtue. But you — you have abused its sacred name to awaken in the minds of cowards the desires for that criminal well-being, which consists in forgetting others and in the enjoyment of superfluity. Shameful thought, which would soon smother the flame of the Revolution! Let France learn to suffer, let her take pleasure in suffering in order to be free, in sacrificing her comfort, her repose, her affections for the happiness of the world!
CAMILLE, in a tone of courteous mockery that suddenly, at the end of the speech, becomes incisive and cutting
Maximilien, listening to you, a passage from Plato comes to mind: “When I hear,” said the good general Laches, “when I hear a man who speaks well of virtue and he is a true sans-culotte, worthy of the things he says, it is for me an inexpressible delight; it seems to me that this is the only musician who produces a perfect harmony; for all his actions accord with all his words, not in the Jacobin or Genevan mode, but in the French key, which alone deserves the name of republican harmony. When such a man speaks, let no one think I am mad about speeches, so eagerly do I seize upon his words. But he who sings a virtue he does not practice grieves me cruelly, and the better he seems to speak, the more aversion he gives me for his music.”
At the end of this speech, Desmoulins turns his back on Robespierre, who rises, without gesture or words, to leave. Lucile, alarmed at the turn the conversation has taken, and who has not taken her eyes off Robespierre, takes his hand and tries to jest.
LUCILE, pointing to Camille
This naughty boy must always contradict. If you knew how he makes me cross sometimes! Dear Maximilien, you are still the same. You quarrel as you did at school in Arras.
Robespierre, frozen, says nothing and prepares to leave.
DANTON, changing his tone and stepping toward Robespierre with an expression of sincere cordiality
Robespierre, all three of us are wrong. Let us be men who obey only reason and who know how to sacrifice our grudges to the fatherland. I come to you, and I offer you my hand. Forgive me a moment of impatience.
ROBESPIERRE
Danton thinks it is enough to say a word to erase his insults. The offender has no difficulty forgetting his offenses.
DANTON
I am wrong, no doubt, to attribute to my adversaries my own generosity. But the welfare of the Republic prevails: she needs my energy and your virtues. If my energy repels you, consider that your virtues are hateful to me: we are even. Do as I do — hold your nose, and let us save the fatherland.
ROBESPIERRE
I do not believe any man indispensable to the fatherland.
DANTON
That is the refrain of the envious. With that fine reasoning, they castrate the nation of everything that makes it strong.
ROBESPIERRE
There is no strength where trust is lacking.
DANTON
You distrust me? You believe the nonsense spread about me, the hallucinations of Billaud-Varenne? Look at me. Do I have the face of a hypocrite? Hate me, but do not suspect me!
ROBESPIERRE
It is by their deeds that one judges men.
DANTON
What do you reproach in mine?
ROBESPIERRE
Courting every faction.
DANTON
I have a fraternal soul for all who suffer.
ROBESPIERRE
One boasts of being without hatred, and indeed one does not hate the enemies of the Republic, but in so doing one destroys the Republic. Pity for the executioners is cruelty to the victims. This indulgence has forced us to raze cities; it would cost us thirty years of civil war.
DANTON
You see crime everywhere! It is a madness. If you are ill, tend to your sickness, but do not force those who are healthy to take medicine. The Republic is devouring itself. There is still time to halt this absurd and ferocious Terror that is consuming France. But soon you will be incapable of limiting its ravages; you will wish to in vain; it will burn you along with the others: it will burn you before the others. Wretch, can you not see that from the day Danton is no more, you would be the first struck down? It is I who still shield you from the blaze.
ROBESPIERRE, drawing back from Danton, coldly
Let it burn me!
CAMILLE, aside to Danton
You’ve said too much, Danton; you’ve wounded his pride.
DANTON
In the name of the fatherland, Robespierre, of this fatherland we worship with the same ardor and to which we have given everything, let us grant a full amnesty for all — friends and enemies alike — provided they love France. Let that love cleanse all suspicions and all faults. Without it, no virtue. With it, no crime.
ROBESPIERRE
No fatherland without virtue.
DANTON, pressing, threatening
Once more, I ask you for peace. Consider what it costs me to make overtures. But I swallow every humiliation, if it serves the Republic. Give me your hand; set Fabre free; send Westermann back to the army; protect Hérault and Philippeaux against the fanatics.
ROBESPIERRE
I am made to combat crime, not to govern it.
DANTON, on the verge of erupting, contains himself
Is it war you want, Robespierre? Think carefully.
ROBESPIERRE, impassive, turns his back on Danton and addresses Desmoulins
Camille, one last time: you will cease your attacks against the Committee.
CAMILLE
Let it cease to deserve them.
ROBESPIERRE
Submit, as the others do, to the orders of the nation.
CAMILLE
I am a representative of the nation; I have the right to speak for it.
ROBESPIERRE
You owe it the example of obedience to the laws.
CAMILLE
We know all too well how the laws are made. We are all lawyers, prosecutors, men of law, Robespierre; we know what the majesty of the law conceals. I would laugh to see us together, if I did not think of the tears shed over the comedy we play. We cost men too dearly. Virtue itself would not be worth the price we make them pay for it: still less, crime.
ROBESPIERRE
He who was not strong enough to bear his task should not have accepted it. He who accepts it must march and be silent, until he falls, crushed under the weight.
CAMILLE
I consent to sacrifice myself, but not to sacrifice others.
DANTON
Farewell. Think of Hérault.
ROBESPIERRE
Why do you speak to me of Hérault?
DANTON
Hérault has been arrested.
ROBESPIERRE
Arrested? He just left here.
DANTON
I know.
LUCILE
But what has he done? Maximilien, what is his crime?
ROBESPIERRE
His house was sheltering a proscribed man.
DANTON
He was doing his duty.
ROBESPIERRE
The Committee has done its own.
DANTON, erupting
Wretch, you provoke me! So you mean to slaughter us all, one after another? You lop the mighty boughs from the oak before striking at its breast? — My roots reach deep into the earth, into the heart of the people of France. You could not tear them out without killing the Republic. My fall would crush you all, and the foul rats gnawing at me would be the first victims. My forbearance emboldens you! Vermin crawl brazenly up my body. Enough! The lion shakes himself. — But, you little wretch, don’t you know that if I wanted, I could crush you between my fingers like a louse? Long live war, since you want it! The fire of old battles surges back into my brain. This voice too long restrained will make itself heard at last, and hurl the nation to the assault of the tyrants.
CAMILLE
We shall storm the new Tuileries. The Vieux Cordelier will beat the charge!
Robespierre, without flinching, makes for the door. Lucile, mortally alarmed, unable to speak, has disappeared for a moment into the adjoining room; she returns with her child and brings it to Robespierre.
LUCILE
Maximilien!
Robespierre turns around, looks at little Horace, hesitates a moment, smiles at him, then takes him and sits down. He kisses the child, looks at Lucile and Camille. Then, still silent, he returns the child to Lucile and exits without looking at anyone. All of this stage business very restrained and without any visible emotion, except in Lucile.
SCENE V
LUCILE, CAMILLE, DANTON
DANTON
Poor Lucile, you are worried!
LUCILE
O Camille, Camille, how reckless you are!
CAMILLE
You were urging me on just now.
LUCILE
Oh! I feel such remorse now!
CAMILLE
One must say what one thinks. And then… (he shrugs his shoulder) Bah! I have nothing to fear — deep down he loves me: he will always defend me!
LUCILE
I am afraid.
CAMILLE
He is more afraid than we are; Danton’s voice has already had its effect. He is one of those people who need to fear those they love. Come! We must see our friends, plan with them. Let us lose no more time. Come, Danton.
DANTON, seated, preoccupied
Yes. Where are we going?
CAMILLE
To find Philippeaux, Westermann; to save Hérault.
DANTON
Tomorrow… tomorrow.
CAMILLE
It will be too late.
DANTON, very sad, very affectionate
Lucile, read me something, play me some music, console me.
LUCILE
Standing behind him, she leans on his shoulder; he takes her hand and presses it to his cheek.
DANTON
O Republic! To destroy oneself. To destroy the work of one’s own hands, to destroy the Republic!
CAMILLE
Victors or vanquished, what does it matter? In either case, vanquished!
DANTON
In either case, victors, crowned by Glory!
DANTON, violently, rising
Come, and let the Republic strike terror into the world!
ACT II
Robespierre’s room, in the Duplay house. A casement window. Two doors. The walls white and bare. A walnut bed with curtains of blue damask with white flowers. A very modest desk. A few straw chairs. A case serving as a bookshelf. A few flowers in a glass on the windowsill. At the front of the stage, in the center, a small stove, with a chair on one side, a stool on the other. The left door leads to the Duplays’ dressing room. The window overlooks a courtyard where carpenters are working. One hears the noise of workers nailing, planing, and sawing. Robespierre is alone, seated at his desk.
SCENE I MADAME DUPLAY, ROBESPIERRE
MADAME DUPLAY, opening the door Am I disturbing you, Maximilien?
ROBESPIERRE, smiling warmly No, citizen Duplay. (He offers her his hand.)
MADAME DUPLAY Always working. You did not go to bed last night.
I was at the Committee.
MADAME DUPLAY I heard you come in. It was past three o’clock. But could you not rest this morning?
I sleep little, as you know: I have trained my body to obey me.
MADAME DUPLAY You promised me you would stop staying up late. You are wearing yourself out, you will fall ill. And what will become of us?
My poor friends, you will have to get used to doing without me. I shall not always be here.
MADAME DUPLAY What, do you mean to leave us?
ROBESPIERRE, with a mixture of sincerity and grandiloquence No; and yet I shall leave you sooner than you think.
MADAME DUPLAY I absolutely forbid it: I intend to depart first, and I am in no hurry.
ROBESPIERRE, smiling I would be more at ease if I thought people were less attached to me.
MADAME DUPLAY What? Does it not please you to be loved?
France would be better off if she thought less of Robespierre, and more of liberty.
MADAME DUPLAY Liberty and Robespierre are one and the same.
That is precisely what worries me for her sake. I fear for her health.
MADAME DUPLAY, approaching the window What a racket they make in the courtyard! I am sure all that hammering and planing wears you out. I have asked Duplay twenty times not to let the workers start so early, so as not to wake you when you are sleeping; but he says you forbid any change to the routine.
ROBESPIERRE He is right. That steady activity rests me. Work is a blessing to others and to oneself. Coming out of a night of feverish thoughts, such as we are forced to endure, it renews the poisoned and deadly air.
MADAME DUPLAY What work kept you up last night?
Not work, but worry.
MADAME DUPLAY You look anxious, as though on the eve of a catastrophe.
A catastrophe, yes.
MADAME DUPLAY Can you not prevent it?
Far from it — I must bring it about.
MADAME DUPLAY I have no right to question you; but you must not be sad today. The house is celebrating. Le Bas and Saint-Just returned from the army last night.
Saint-Just has returned? Good: I need his resolve.
MADAME DUPLAY I forgot to tell you: there is a general who wanted to speak with you, General Westermann. He was here before daybreak; I prevented him from coming up. He said he would return in an hour. Shall I receive him?
I do not know.
MADAME DUPLAY He waited a long time in the courtyard. It was raining.
Very well.
MADAME DUPLAY What weather we had last night! I came home drenched.
Where were you?
MADAME DUPLAY At Les Halles. I queued from midnight. The pushing and shoving! Impossible to close one’s eyes for an instant — your place was taken at once. When the gates opened, there was a fight. Fortunately, I know how to defend my rights. In the end, I managed to get three eggs and a quarter-pound of butter.
Three eggs for the household — that is not much.
MADAME DUPLAY For Eléonore, for Elisabeth, and for you — my three children.
Good Maman Duplay, you do not think I am going to take the food from your mouths?
MADAME DUPLAY You are not going to refuse me: it was for you that I went. You are unwell, your stomach is weak. If only you would eat meat! But you forbid us to buy any.
Meat is growing scarce; it must be saved for the soldiers and the sick. We have decreed a civic Lent. It falls to me and my colleagues to set the example of abstinence.
MADAME DUPLAY Not all share your scruples.
I know it; I have seen certain among them feasting in the midst of public misery: it fills me with horror. Each of those meals robs the nation of the strength of some thirty of her defenders.
MADAME DUPLAY What misery! No more meat, no more poultry, no more dairy. The vegetables are commandeered by the army. On top of that, one can no longer heat one’s home. This is the second night Duplay has waited his turn at the coal barge; he has just come back empty-handed. As for firewood, it is hopeless. Do you know the price they quoted me per cord? Four hundred francs! Fortunately, spring is here. One more month and we would all have perished. I cannot remember, in all my life, a winter so harsh.
Yes, you have suffered, you have all suffered, poor women, and with such courage! But you must admit that despite all these hardships, you have also known joys you never knew before: the joy of contributing, all of you, from the least to the greatest, to the sublime work — the freedom of the world!
MADAME DUPLAY Indeed, I am happy. Whatever may come now, this time of hardship will remain the best of our lives: these are not ordinary, senseless sufferings that serve no purpose. Each of our fasts enriches the nation. What pride we owe you, Maximilien! Last evening, as I did the washing, I thought: humble bourgeoise that I am, uncertain of tomorrow and weary of beginning the hunt for daily bread anew each day, I am working for the salvation of the nation; nothing of my toil is wasted; each of my efforts is counted toward the victory, and I march with you at the head of humanity!
THE WORKERS, in the courtyard, singing Let us saw, let us nail, let us forge with care Rifle stocks and pike handles. Let us work at full speed, Soldiers of the Republic, You shall want for nothing.
MADAME DUPLAY, smiling They have just finished an order for the Army of the North; their bellies are empty, but they are content.
Sublime people! How good it is to be one of them! Who could forgive those who seek to corrupt this wellspring of self-sacrifice and devotion?
Westermann is heard grumbling outside.
MADAME DUPLAY It is the General. He is growing impatient.
Show him up.
Madame Duplay exits. — Robespierre glances at his mirror. In an instant, his expression changes, becomes hard, immobile, glacial.
SCENE II ROBESPIERRE, WESTERMANN
WESTERMANN, entering impetuously Thunder of God! It is about time. I have been cooling my heels at your door for two hours. Damn it, it is harder to get in here than into a town in the Vendée.
Robespierre, hands behind his back, motionless, features rigid, lips pressed tight, stares straight at Westermann. Westermann, taken aback for a moment, continues.
WESTERMANN I thought you refused to see me. Desmoulins told me I would be kept from entering. And I had sworn I would get in, even if I had to blast your door down with a cannon. — He laughs. — You will excuse my soldierly frankness? — Robespierre continues to say nothing. Westermann, increasingly uncomfortable, tries to assume an easy manner. — By God! You are well guarded. There is a pretty girl stationed outside your door; she is darning stockings. Not an easy one, that young lady. Like you — incorruptible. One would have had to step over her body. In enemy territory, that would not have been so unpleasant. — He laughs in a forced way.
Robespierre remains silent but moves his hands impatiently. Westermann sits down, tries to make himself comfortable. Robespierre remains standing. Westermann stands up again. — Fools claim you are my enemy. I shrug my shoulders at that. Virtue, the enemy of virtue! Come now! Can Aristides be the enemy of Leonidas? Are not the bastion of the Republic and the rampart of the nation made to support each other? Fellows like us, who place the nation’s glory above all else, will always understand each other, will they not? —
He extends his hand. Robespierre neither moves nor replies. — You will not shake my hand? By thunder! So it is true? You are my enemy? You are conspiring to destroy me? A thousand curses! If I knew it to be so! Am I a wretch, that you leave me standing two hours in your courtyard; and when I am in your rooms, you do not even offer me a seat, you leave me here, on my feet, talking, without a word in reply! In God’s name!
He stamps his foot on the floor.
ROBESPIERRE, glacial General, you are on the wrong track. There is a long way from Leonidas to Père Duchesne. You seek your models in a dangerous place.
WESTERMANN, taken aback What place?
The Place de la Révolution.
WESTERMANN, completely thrown But after all, citizen, what have I done? Of what do you accuse me?
The Committee of Public Safety will tell you.
WESTERMANN I have the right to be warned.
Consult your conscience.
WESTERMANN It reproaches me with nothing.
ROBESPIERRE I pity the man who can no longer hear the voice of remorse.
WESTERMANN, forcing himself to be calm; but his voice trembles with pain and rage I have but one remorse: that of having sacrificed my life to so ungrateful a nation. For thirty years I have endured every hardship for her sake. I have saved her ten times from invasion. Never has she recognized my services. The first sycophant who comes along denounces me; they listen to anonymous letters from soldiers whose cowardice I punished; they accuse me, they threaten me, they strip me of my rank; and imbeciles, cretins, scoundrels are promoted over my head; I must obey a Rossignol, a stupid goldsmith who knows nothing of war, who has distinguished himself only by his blunders, and whose sole credentials are the filth of his origins and the patronage of the Jacobins. Kléber, Dubayet, and Marceau languish in lowly posts, while a shopkeeper from Niort commands two armies!
The Republic values in a commander the strength of his republican convictions more than his military skill.
WESTERMANN Does the Republic also value Rossignol’s defeats?
The responsibility for Rossignol’s defeats rests not on him, but on those around him. If Kléber, Dubayet, and Westermann are so proud of their talents, let them put them at the service of the general the nation imposes upon them!
WESTERMANN So you mean to steal from us the glory of our deeds?
Yes.
WESTERMANN Admit it: military glory frightens you; you want to humble it?
Yes.
WESTERMANN, insultingly It inconveniences the ambition of lawyers?
It insults reason; it threatens liberty. What makes you so proud? You are merely doing your duty. You risk your lives? Our heads, every one of them, in France, are the stakes of the formidable game we play against despotism. What greater merit have you than we in braving death? We are all devoted to death or to victory. You are, like us, the instruments of the Revolution, the axe charged with clearing a path for the Republic through the midst of her enemies. It is a terrible task that must be accepted without weakness, but without pride. You have no more reason to be proud of your cannons than we of the guillotine.
WESTERMANN You insult the grandeur of war.
Nothing is great but virtue. Wherever it is found — among soldiers, workers, legislators — the Republic honors it. But let criminals tremble! Nothing shields them from her blows, neither their titles nor their swords.
WESTERMANN It is me you threaten?
I have named no one. Woe to him who names himself!
WESTERMANN By thunder! — He stares, beside himself, with threatening gestures, at the impassive Robespierre; he trembles convulsively in every limb and starts for the door with a wild step. Turning back. — Beware, Sulla! My head is harder than Custine’s. There are still men who do not fear your tyranny. I am going to find Danton. — He crashes into the wall before finding the door, and exits with a crash.
SCENE III ROBESPIERRE, ÉLÉONORE DUPLAY
ÉLÉONORE, emerging from the Duplays’ apartment At last! He is gone! Oh, Maximilien, how anxious I was while he was here!
ROBESPIERRE, smiling affectionately Dear Éléonore! You were listening?
ÉLÉONORE That man’s voice frightened me; I could not help coming — I was next door, in Mama’s dressing room.
And what could you have done, if he had had evil designs?
ÉLÉONORE, embarrassed I do not know.
ROBESPIERRE, taking the hand she hides behind her back What is this?
ÉLÉONORE, blushing A pistol that Philippe left on the table last night when he came in.
ROBESPIERRE, taking it from her and keeping her hand in his No, no — let these hands not be soiled by such instruments of murder. Even to save my life, let them not shed blood. Let there remain at least in all the world two friendly hands, two innocent hands, to purify the world and Robespierre’s heart of their bloody destinies — when the work is done.
ÉLÉONORE Why do you expose yourself so? You were provoking that man, and he is said to be cruel.
I do not fear swordsmen. The moment they are taken out of battle, their strength is nothing but empty bluster; their knees tremble when they find themselves in the presence of this power, new to them, that their steel has never met in the fray: the Law.
ÉLÉONORE Citizen Fouché also came; but he was not received, following your orders.
My door is forever closed to the man who dishonored the majesty of the Terror in the massacres of Lyon.
ÉLÉONORE He would not leave: he wept.
ROBESPIERRE, harshly The crocodile weeps too.
ÉLÉONORE He went to your sister, to beg her to intercede for him.
ROBESPIERRE, his expression changing, anxious, timid Ah! Good God, she will come. The scoundrel has convinced her that he loves her; she does not esteem him; but flattery always pleases a woman, wherever it comes from. She will take up his defense. In Heaven’s name, do not let her in! Tell her I am busy, that I cannot see anyone.
ÉLÉONORE, smiling You brave all the tyrants of Europe, and your sister frightens you.
ROBESPIERRE, smiling She is a good woman; she loves me. But she is so exhausting! Her constant jealousies, the scenes she makes at every turn, give me a splitting headache. I believe I would accept anything, if only she would be quiet.
ÉLÉONORE Rest easy: Mama has been warned; she will prevent her from entering.
Dear friends! With what care you watch over my peace!
ÉLÉONORE We are responsible for it to the nation.
What good your household does me! What rest my soul finds here! It is not a selfish shelter from the storms outside. The door stands wide open to the cares of the nation; but they take on, upon entering, a kind of august hue. Here, one receives destiny as a man, without bowing the head, looking it straight in the eye. I have never crossed this threshold without breathing in the air of this courtyard, in this smell of cut wood, peace and hope. Duplay’s honest face, your mother’s cordial voice, your hand, Éléonore, extended toward me with a fraternal smile, so much loyal affection — these grant me the most precious, the rarest of blessings, oh! the one I lack the most and need the most!
ÉLÉONORE What blessing?
Trust.
ÉLÉONORE You distrust someone?
I distrust all men. I read falsehood in their eyes; I see cunning lying in wait beneath their protestations. Their eyes, their mouths, their handshakes, their whole bodies lie. Suspicion poisons all my thoughts. I was made for gentler feelings. I love mankind; I wish to believe in them. But how can one still believe, when one sees them, as I do, every day, perjure themselves ten times over, sell themselves, sell their friends, sell their armies, sell their country — out of fear, ambition, debauchery, out of sheer malice! I have seen Mirabeau betray, Lafayette, Dumouriez, Custine, the King, the aristocrats, the Girondins, the Hébertists. The troops would have handed over the invaded nation twenty times, had they not constantly felt behind their backs the shadow of the guillotine. Three-quarters of the Convention conspire against the Convention. Vice chafes under the heroic discipline the Revolution imposes on it. They dare not attack virtue head-on; they mask themselves in pity, in clemency, to deceive public opinion, to stir it in favor of scoundrels and against patriots. I shall tear off the masks; I shall force the Assembly to see what they conceal: the hideous face of treason; I shall compel the disguised accomplices of the conspirators to condemn them with me, or to perish with them: the Republic will triumph. But, dear God! amid how many ruins! Vice is like the Hydra. Each drop of blood that falls gives birth to new monsters. The best among us are caught, one after another, by the contagion. The day before yesterday, Philippeaux; yesterday, Danton; today, Desmoulins. — Desmoulins, my childhood friend, my brother! — Who will betray tomorrow?
ÉLÉONORE Is it possible? So much treachery! And you have the proof?
Yes, and more than proof: moral certainty, that infallible light that never deceives me.
ÉLÉONORE No, you cannot be mistaken: you know everything; you see to the bottom of hearts. Alas! Are they all corrupt?
There are four or five men I esteem: the honest Couthon, insensible to his own sufferings so that he may think only of the world’s; the kind and modest Le Bas; my brother, who is generous but too fond of pleasure — two children and a dying man.
ÉLÉONORE And Saint-Just?
Him I fear. Saint-Just, the living sword of the Revolution, that implacable weapon, who would sacrifice me like the others to his iron law. — All the rest betray. Hampered by my clear-sightedness, jealous of the people’s love, they work to make me odious. The proconsuls of Marseille and Lyon cover their atrocities with the name of Robespierre. Counter-revolution takes on, by turns, the face of clemency and that of terror. If weariness overcomes me for a single instant, it is finished for me, it is finished for the Republic. Couthon is ill. Le Bas and my brother are two hotheads. Saint-Just is far away, subduing the armies. I remain alone in the midst of these traitors, who circle around me, seeking to strike me from behind. They will kill me, Éléonore.
ÉLÉONORE, taking his hand with youthful intensity If you die, you will not die alone.
Robespierre looks at her affectionately. She blushes.
Dear Éléonore, no — you will not die. I am stronger than my cowardly enemies. I have Truth on my side.
ÉLÉONORE Ah! What cares consume you, when you should be so happy — you who work for the happiness of all. How unjust life is!
I have saddened you. I was wrong to wither your trust in life. Forgive me.
ÉLÉONORE Do not regret it. I am proud of your confidence. All night long, I thought of those pages of Rousseau that you read to us yesterday. They rocked my soul so sweetly. I heard the sound of your voice, and those tender words… oh! I know them by heart —
ROBESPIERRE, reciting, with a smile of affection, slightly melancholy, slightly grandiloquent, yet sincere “The communion of hearts lends to sadness a sweetness and a tenderness that contentment does not possess, and friendship was given especially to the unhappy for the relief of their ills and the consolation of their sorrows.” — Éléonore, her hand in Robespierre’s, is silent, smiling and blushing. — You say nothing?
ÉLÉONORE, reciting “Can anything one says to one’s friend ever equal what one feels at his side?”
MADAME DUPLAY, from outside Maximilien, Saint-Just is here.
Éléonore slips away.
SCENE IV ROBESPIERRE, SAINT-JUST
Saint-Just enters calmly. Robespierre goes to meet him. They shake hands as if they had parted only a few hours before.
SAINT-JUST Good morning.
Good morning, Saint-Just.
They sit down.
SAINT-JUST, looking at him calmly I am glad to see you again.
Le Bas wrote to us that we very nearly never saw you again.
SAINT-JUST Yes. — After a silence: — Arms are needed there; the army lacks muskets.
The work is underway; all Paris is at it. Forging goes on in the churches. All other work is suspended. You could see, as you passed, Duplay’s carpenters making rifle stocks. The watchmakers work on the firing mechanisms; anvils ring on the public squares.
SAINT-JUST, after a silence Supplies are scarce. Some divisions lack fodder. Time is short; the campaign will open in three weeks at the latest; the blood of all France must be made to flow northward.
The orders have been given. France fasts so that her soldiers may eat.
SAINT-JUST As soon as you no longer need my counsel, send me back there. The first engagements will be decisive. Every spring of action must be tightened.
Does this life not exhaust you?
SAINT-JUST, sincere, ardent, concentrated, speaking without a single gesture It rests me from sterile debates. Thought and action merge there, as the clash of clouds and the lightning that bursts from them. Every act of will is inscribed at once, for eternity, in the blood of men and the destinies of the world. — Grandeur of the task! Divine anguish! — In the night, in the snow, at the army’s outposts, on the bleak expanse of the Flemish plain, beneath the immensity of the frozen sky, I feel a shiver of joy course through my body, and my blood beat in waves against my chest. Alone, lost in the midst of the darkness of the Universe, surrounded by enemies, suspended over the grave, we are in Europe the guardians of Reason, the living Light. With each decision, we gamble the fate of the world. We are recreating Man.
Happy is he whom a feeble body does not confine here, far from the action!
SAINT-JUST Who acts more than you? The freedom of the world is besieged within Paris.
Here one feels tainted by the fight against vice. It soils one in spite of oneself. I confess that when I see the mire of crimes that the torrent of the Revolution churns up pell-mell with Virtue, I fear being stained in the eyes of posterity by the foul proximity of wicked men.
SAINT-JUST Put the axe between them and you. The impure must only be touched with iron.
Corruption is spreading everywhere. Men I counted on the most. Old friends.
SAINT-JUST No friendships! The Nation.
Danton threatens; Danton is suspect. He pours forth violent and abusive words. He surrounds himself with schemers, debauchees, ruined financiers, cashiered officers. Malcontents of every kind rally around him.
SAINT-JUST Let Danton be removed!
Danton was a republican. He loved the nation. He loves it still, perhaps.
SAINT-JUST He does not love the nation, he who does not honor it by the austerity of his life. He is no republican, he who has the vices and the maxims of an aristocrat. I hate Catiline. His cynical heart, his craven intelligence, his ignoble politics that drift between all parties to exploit them all — these debase and threaten the Republic. Let Danton be struck down!
He drags the reckless Desmoulins down with him.
SAINT-JUST That brazen rhetorician, for whom the nation’s misfortunes are material for literary effects; that vain wit who would sacrifice Liberty for an antithesis!
A child, the dupe of his friends and of his own cleverness.
SAINT-JUST Cleverness too is a crime when the State is in danger. The nation’s misfortunes have cast over the entire Republic a somber and religious shadow. I distrust those who laugh.
I love Desmoulins.
SAINT-JUST I love him. If you yourself became a criminal, I would accuse you.
ROBESPIERRE, uncomfortable, draws back. Then, returning after a brief silence Thank you. — You are fortunate; you never waver. Nothing in you counterbalances your hatred of vice.
SAINT-JUST, darkly I have seen vice closer than you.
Where?
SAINT-JUST In myself.
ROBESPIERRE, astonished In you, whose entire life is a model of self-denial and austere sacrifice!
SAINT-JUST You do not know.
ROBESPIERRE, incredulous What sin of youth?
SAINT-JUST, darkly I stood at the edge of the abyss; I saw crime at its bottom, ready to devour me. Since then, I have sworn to destroy it in the world, as in myself.
I am weary, at times, of this struggle. The enemy is too vast. Can we transform humanity? Can we make our dream prevail?
SAINT-JUST The day I am convinced it is impossible to accomplish, I will plunge a dagger into my heart.
ÉLÉONORE, opening the door. Softly Billaud-Varenne and Vadier are here.
SCENE V ROBESPIERRE, SAINT-JUST, BILLAUD-VARENNE, VADIER
Billaud-Varenne, head bowed, somber, looking crushed with fatigue, eyes somewhat haggard. Vadier, lips pursed, sneering, bitter. — Robespierre and Saint-Just rise very coldly. They exchange nods, a brief, curt movement of the head, without shaking hands.
BILLAUD-VARENNE Greetings and fraternity.
VADIER, seeing Saint-Just Saint-Just. Good — things will go well. We shall make up for lost time.
Billaud and Vadier sit down without ceremony. Saint-Just paces. Robespierre remains standing, leaning against the window. — After a silence.
BILLAUD The guillotine! You have waited too long, Robespierre: we are in danger. If Danton still exists tomorrow, liberty is lost.
What news?
BILLAUD, papers in hand Look. The traitor has continued.
Who?
VADIER Your friend, Maximilien — Camille, dear Camille.
He has written again?
BILLAUD These proofs have just been seized. Read.
VADIER, rubbing his hands The seventh issue of the Vieux Cordelier. The continuation of the Good Apostle’s Credo.
The fool! Will he never hold his tongue?
BILLAUD, fixed on his obsession The guillotine!
SAINT-JUST, reading with Robespierre The man is a harlot. He suffers from the disease of dishonoring himself.
ROBESPIERRE And Danton?
BILLAUD Danton is making trouble; he holds forth at the Palais-Royal. He insults Vadier, me, all the patriots. Desmoulins is with him. They are seated at table with Westermann and prostitutes; they hurl obscene insults at the Committee. The crowd gathers and laughs.
SAINT-JUST You hear that, Robespierre!
ROBESPIERRE, contemptuously No danger. Before Danton has finished drinking, we have time to deliberate in peace. — Looking at the papers: — So the madman is committing suicide!
VADIER Ah! This time, my dear fellow, he has truly thrown all caution to the wind.
BILLAUD Let his head follow the same path!
SAINT-JUST, reading He compares the Convention to Nero and Tiberius.
BILLAUD, reading He dares to say that we prosecuted Custine on Pitt’s orders, and not because Custine had betrayed us, but because he had not betrayed us enough.
VADIER, reading “The Committee will reduce the Assembly to the servile condition of a parliament whose rebellious members it sends to the Bastille.”
ROBESPIERRE, checking the text That is not what it says.
VADIER It amounts to the same thing.
BILLAUD, reading “What does the Committee lack to destroy the Republic, if those deputies it cannot buy it sends to the Luxembourg?”
ROBESPIERRE, checking It reads: “it can send,” not “it sends.”
BILLAUD, impatient Stop quibbling!
SAINT-JUST, reading He has the effrontery to claim that “the War Office appoints to the head of armies the brothers of the actresses they sleep with.”
VADIER Disorganizing the defense, degrading the nation in the eyes of the foreigner — nothing stops him, when his babbling, stammering tongue burns him.
BILLAUD The whole thing wrapped in calls for clemency, in phrases about humanity!
VADIER Sugar-coated tears, confectioner’s mottoes!
SAINT-JUST No plague of Egypt is comparable to men of feeling. No tyrant costs humanity more grief. They too called themselves men of feeling — the traitors of the Gironde, who carried the torches of rebellion throughout all of France.
Desmoulins is weak, childish, not seditious. He was my childhood friend; I know him.
BILLAUD, suspiciously Are there privileges for the friends of Robespierre?
VADIER, mocking under his breath. He reads an issue of the Vieux Cordelier Listen further, Maximilien: here is something for you. It seems that if you close the houses of debauchery, if you make a great show of zeal to purify morals and drive out the prostitutes, it is on Pitt’s instructions — for “you thereby deprive the government of one of its greatest instruments: the looseness of morals.” You hear, Incorruptible? This should please you?
SAINT-JUST The base, hypocritical soul!
BILLAUD, violently The guillotine!
He collapses, his head on the table, stunned like a felled ox.
He is fainting?
VADIER, indifferent A dizzy spell.
Saint-Just opens the window. Billaud comes to.
SAINT-JUST Are you ill, Billaud?
BILLAUD, in a hoarse voice Who said that? Scoundrels! — I can bear no more! It has been ten nights since I slept.
VADIER He spends his nights at the Committee and his days at the Assembly.
You work too much. Would you like someone to take your place for a few days?
BILLAUD My task cannot be improvised. Corresponding with the departments, holding in one’s hand all the threads of all France — no one can do it but I. If I stop, the whole skein tangles. No; I must carry on until I drop.
SAINT-JUST We shall all die at our posts.
BILLAUD O Nature! It was not for these storms that you created me! My soul is furrowed by the blast of the murderous desert wind. O heart too tender, you were made for retreat, for friendship, for the gentle affections of a loving family!
VADIER, ironic Let us not grow sentimental, Billaud.
BILLAUD, resuming in a violent tone Let us clear the air! Desmoulins to the guillotine!
I must set the example. I abandon Desmoulins.
VADIER, mocking under his breath Brutus, noble man, virtuous man — I knew you would not hesitate to dispose of a friend.
Desmoulins’s fate is tied to that of another man.
BILLAUD Are you afraid to speak the name of Danton?
I am afraid of demolishing a talisman of the Republic.
VADIER Its lucky charm.
Danton is my enemy; but if my friendships carry no weight in our deliberations, neither must my enmities weigh upon my judgments. Before we engage in battle, let us coolly consider the risks of dismantling this fortress of the Revolution.
BILLAUD A fortress for sale!
VADIER The scarecrow of the Revolution! In times of public danger, they bring out the monstrous idol to put the enemy to flight; but it frightens above all those who carry it. Its hideous face alarms the image of Liberty.
One cannot deny that his features are known and feared throughout Europe.
VADIER, mocking It is true that, like a good sans-culotte, he willingly shows the world — “What Caesar, without shame, submitted To Nicomedes, in his fair youth, What once the hero of Greece So admired in his Hephaestion, And what Hadrian placed in the Pantheon.”
SAINT-JUST, violently Enough of your filthy wit! Is it in the name of corruption that you fight corruption?
VADIER You are not going to make me recite Rousseau to you?
ROBESPIERRE makes an effort to be impartial, but brings no conviction to it I believe it is fitting to give some consideration to Danton’s past services.
SAINT-JUST The more good a man has done, the more he is obliged to continue. Woe to him who has defended the people’s cause and abandons it! He is more criminal than the one who always fought against it; for he knew the good, and willfully he betrayed it.
The death of Hébert has stirred public opinion. The police reports addressed to me note that our enemies are exploiting the confusion of the people, suddenly disillusioned, to shake its faith in its true friends. Everything is suspect today — even Marat’s memory. We must act prudently and take care not to add to suspicion through our internal struggles.
SAINT-JUST Let us put an end to suspicion by the death of the suspects.
VADIER, aside, watching Robespierre and taking snuff The scoundrel! How afraid he is to touch his precious aristocrats! Cromwell is securing himself a majority. Well! If this goes on, I shall have him guillotine a hundred toads from his Marsh.
A head like that does not fall without shaking the State.
BILLAUD, suspicious and violent Are you afraid, Robespierre?
VADIER, slyly inciting Billaud Ask him, Billaud, whether he uses Danton as a padded mattress to shelter behind, against bullets?
BILLAUD, brutal Speak frankly: you are afraid of being exposed by Danton’s fall. You cling to him like a shield that protects you. Danton deflects attention and the blows from you.
I scorn these treacherous slanders. What do dangers matter to me? I do not cling to my life. But I have the experience of the past, and I see the future. You are madmen; your hatreds drive you to distraction. You think of yourselves; you do not think of the Republic.
SAINT-JUST Then let us examine without passion what the Republic should expect from the conspirators. And let us not ask whether Danton has talents, but whether those talents serve the Republic. — Whence have all the attacks against the Revolution come for the past three months? From Danton. Who inspired Philippeaux’s letters against the Committee? Danton. Who breathes into Desmoulins his venomous pamphlets? Danton. Each issue of the Vieux Cordelier is submitted to him, discussed with him, corrected by his hand. If the river is poisoned, let us attack the evil at its source. — Where is Danton’s sincerity? Where is his courage? For the past year, what has he done for the Republic?
ROBESPIERRE pretends to let himself be gradually convinced and carried along by the others, with a mixture of hypocrisy and sincerity It is true that he never spoke in defense of the Montagne when it was attacked.
SAINT-JUST No — but he spoke for Dumouriez, for the generals who were his accomplices. The Jacobins accused him: you defended him, Robespierre. When you were accused, did he say a word for you?
No; but seeing me alone, the target of the Gironde’s slanders, he said to his friends: “Since he means to destroy himself, let him! We shall not share his fate!” — But this is not about me.
BILLAUD You yourself told me, Robespierre, that he did everything to save the Girondins, and to strike down Hanriot, who arrested the traitors.
That is true.
SAINT-JUST You yourself told me, Robespierre, that he had cynically confessed to you his embezzlements, and those of Fabre, his secretary, during his brief tenure at the Ministry of Justice.
I grant it.
SAINT-JUST He was a friend of Lafayette. Mirabeau bought him. He was in correspondence with Dumouriez and Wimpfen. He courted Orléans. All the enemies of the Revolution were on familiar terms with him.
We must not exaggerate.
SAINT-JUST It is you who told me. I would know nothing of these facts if you had not spoken of them to me.
No doubt… but…
BILLAUD, violently Do you deny it?
I cannot deny it. Danton was a regular at those royalist soirées where Orléans himself made the punch. Fabre and Wimpfen were there. They sought to lure deputies of the Montagne in, to seduce or compromise them. — But that is a mere trifle.
BILLAUD A capital fact, on the contrary! A manifest conspiracy!
A small detail comes back to me, but of little importance. He is said to have boasted recently that, if accused, he would throw the Dauphin into our path.
BILLAUD The scoundrel! He said that! And you can defend him!
Westermann was just here. He threatened me with Danton and with an insurrection.
BILLAUD And we are still debating! And the tigers have not been arrested!
You wish it?
SAINT-JUST The nation demands it.
VADIER, sneering, aside The fraud! He is dying with desire for it! He has to be begged.
He was great. — At least, he had the appearance of greatness, at moments almost of virtue.
SAINT-JUST Nothing so resembles virtue as a great crime.
VADIER, sarcastic You can deliver his funeral oration later, Maximilien. For now, let us put the beast in the ground.
SAINT-JUST Vadier, I remind you to show respect for Death.
VADIER The little fellow is still alive.
SAINT-JUST Danton is stricken from life.
BILLAUD Who will draft the indictment?
VADIER Saint-Just. The young man handles it admirably. Each of his sentences is worth a stroke of the guillotine.
SAINT-JUST It pleases me to measure myself against the monster.
ROBESPIERRE, going to fetch papers, which he gives to Saint-Just Here are some notes, all prepared.
VADIER, aside He has notes like that for every one of his friends.
ROBESPIERRE Let us not do Danton the honor of a trial for himself alone: that would draw too much attention to him.
BILLAUD Let us drown him in a collective indictment.
VADIER Whom shall we put in with him, to flesh out the bill of fare?
SAINT-JUST All who have sought to corrupt Liberty with money, or with morals, or with wit.
VADIER Let us be specific. This vagueness is alarming.
Danton loved gold. Let him be buried with gold! Let us mix him in with the banking affair. Let him take his place among the embezzlers. There he will find his friend, his secretary, his Fabre d’Églantine.
VADIER Fabre, Chabot, the great Jewish financiers, the Austrian bankers, the Freys, the Diederichsens — very good; this is beginning to take shape.
BILLAUD It would be well to add Hérault to the defendants — the friend of the émigrés.
SAINT-JUST Before all others, Philippeaux, who disorganized the army, who destroyed discipline.
Westermann, the bloody sword, ever ready for rebellion. — Is that all?
VADIER Dear Camille — whom you forget.
Would you not prefer Bourdon, or Legendre, who are the spokesmen of the faction in the Assembly?
VADIER No. Camille.
BILLAUD Camille.
SAINT-JUST Justice demands it.
Take him.
SAINT-JUST Farewell. I shall prepare the report. Tomorrow, at the Convention, I shall strike them down.
VADIER Not so fast, young man; the impetuousness of your age carries you away. What! You mean to draw Danton to the tribune?
SAINT-JUST Danton counts on the idea that no one will dare attack him to his face. I shall disabuse him.
VADIER Courage alone is not enough, my young friend; you also need lungs capable of drowning out the bull’s bellowing.
SAINT-JUST Truth rises above the storms.
We must not expose the Republic to the hazards of single combat.
SAINT-JUST What do you want, then?
Robespierre does not reply.
BILLAUD Let Danton be arrested tonight.
SAINT-JUST, violently Never.
VADIER He who wills the end wills the means.
SAINT-JUST I do not strike a disarmed enemy. Set me face to face with Danton: such combats ennoble the Republic; but your proposal dishonors it: I spurn it with my foot.
BILLAUD There are no proprieties to observe with the enemies of the people.
VADIER In politics, needless recklessness is folly — sometimes treason.
SAINT-JUST I will not have it.
He violently hurls his hat to the ground.
BILLAUD, severely Is it the fight for the Republic that you love, then, and not the Republic?
SAINT-JUST Such designs need danger to sanctify them. A Revolution is a heroic enterprise whose authors walk between the wheel and immortality. We would be criminals if we were not prepared at every moment to sacrifice our lives, as well as the lives of others.
VADIER Rest easy — you still risk enough. Danton in prison can rouse the people; and be in no doubt, if he prevails, that he will send you to the guillotine.
SAINT-JUST I despise the dust of which I am made; but I defy anyone to wrest from me that independent life I have given myself in the ages and in the heavens. My heart is the only possession that is truly mine; I shall pass through this bloodstained world without staining its purity.
BILLAUD, with a harsh and contemptuous severity Self-esteem is a form of selfishness. Whether Saint-Just’s heart is or is not stained matters nothing to us: let us save the Republic.
SAINT-JUST, questioning Robespierre with his eyes Robespierre!
My friend, set your soul at ease. The storms of a Revolution are not subject to ordinary laws; it is not with common morality that one judges the force that transforms the world and recreates morality on new foundations. Yet one must be just — but the measure of justice here is not the individual conscience; it is the public conscience. In the people lies our light; their salvation is our law. — We had but one question to pose: namely, whether the people wills the ruin of Danton. That question answered, all is answered; we must join battle in such a way as to be victorious. Justice is that what is just should triumph. We cannot wait. We must strike Danton at once. To leave him his weapons out of generosity would be to offer our breast to the assassin’s dagger; military and financial despotism would then seize the reins of the Revolution: a century of civil wars would ravage our nation; and the curses of the people would attach themselves to our memory, which must be dear to the human race.
BILLAUD Victory at any cost! Let all things radiate the terrible splendor of our dictatorship!
VADIER The question is whether a man shall be judged in accordance with the law, or whether Europe shall be Jacobin.
SAINT-JUST, pressing his chest with both hands, like David’s Robespierre in the painting of the Tennis Court Oath O Republic, then take my honor — since you will it — take me, drink me, devour me whole!
BILLAUD, trembling, staccato Perhaps, at this very moment, the Republic is being strangled, our ideas are aborting, Reason is dying for centuries to come. — Quickly!
Have Danton arrested. — He signs.
Billaud signs feverishly.
SAINT-JUST For you, Liberty! — He signs.
BILLAUD Will the Convention not balk?
ROBESPIERRE, with contempt The Convention always knows how to sacrifice its members for the public good.
VADIER signs. I shall see to the matter.
ROBESPIERRE sighs. The weight of the Revolution grows heavier on our shoulders.
VADIER, aside The tiger-cat makes a show of reluctance, but he is licking his chops.
ROBESPIERRE A bitter necessity. We mutilate the Republic in order to save it.
SAINT-JUST, somber and exalted The philosopher Jesus said to his disciples: “If your hand causes you to fall into sin, cut it off; if your foot causes you to fall into sin, sever it; if your eye causes you to fall into sin, pluck it out; for it is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with but one eye and a mutilated body than to have two eyes and be cast into the gehenna of fire.” — And I say: If your friend is corrupt and corrupts the Republic, cut him from the Republic; if your brother is corrupt and corrupts the Republic, cut him from the Republic. And if the blood of the Republic, if your own blood flows from the gaping wound, let it flow; let the Republic be pure, or let it die. The Republic is virtue. Where there is stain, the Republic is no more.
VADIER, aside They are mad. Raving mad. We must not delay —
ACT III THE REVOLUTIONARY TRIBUNAL
FOUQUIER-TINVILLE, public prosecutor, HERMAN, presiding judge. JURY, GENDARMES, CROWD. — On the defendants’ bench, DANTON, DESMOULINS, HERAULT, PHILIPPEAUX, WESTERMANN, — CHABOT, THE silent characters; — FABRE D’EGLANTINE, in an armchair among them. — The windows of the hall are open. One hears the swell of the crowd outside. From time to time, the head of VADIER appears through the wicket of a door behind the presiding judge, keeping watch over the trial. — Near the door, standing, General HANRIOT. — Herman and Fouquier-Tinville cast anxious glances toward him from time to time. Chabot and the Freys are being questioned. — Danton stirs with indignation. Desmoulins seems overwhelmed. Herault, calm, watches with a smile. Philippeaux, jaw clenched, eyes fixed, prepares his riposte. Fabre, in pain, is slumped in his armchair. — The crowd pushes forward and watches avidly. It punctuates every turn of the trial in the manner of an audience watching a melodrama — amused and moved at the same time. (1)
(1) Only a portion of the crowd’s movements and outcries have been noted. These indications should vary according to the resources available on stage.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE, to the Freys You are agents of Pitt. a) — You sought to corrupt the Convention. To advance your speculations and your plunder, you formed the plan of buying the representatives of the people. You put a price on each of their consciences.
DANTON, thundering Presiding Judge, give me the floor! b)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Your turn will come, Danton.
DANTON What have I to do amid this filth? What connection is there between me and these thieves?
THE PRESIDING JUDGE You will be told.
DANTON The natural nobility of my character forbids me from attacking these wretches. You know this, and you abuse my silence to try to confuse me in
THE PEOPLE Murmurs as the curtain rises. a) Ah! scoundrels! traitors! sellouts! Stirring, interested, pushing forward to see. b) Danton… Danton… it was Danton who spoke!…
the mind of the people with dirty bankers, swindlers, extortioners. a)
HERAULT Don’t agitate yourself, Danton.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Respect the court; you will explain yourself shortly.
FOUQUIER-TINVILLE Keep calm, Danton. You will have to answer, like your co-defendants, to the charge of corruption.
DANTON Danton’s corruption does not follow in the wake of rabble. At least give him first place. Danton cannot be second in anything, neither in vice nor in virtue. b)
PHILIPPEAUX Be quiet and be prudent.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE, to the Freys You are Jews by birth, natives of Moravia; your name is Tropuscka. You then took the name Schoenfeld, under which you purchased letters of nobility in Austria; then you came to France, and you call
THE PEOPLE a) Laughing. — Did you hear that? He’s furious. b) He’s a fine one! Just you wait.
yourselves Frey, for the moment. One of your sisters received baptism a), and is kept by a German baron. b) The other married Chabot, formerly a Capuchin c), currently a representative at the Convention. You had associated yourselves with various adventurers of dubious origin like yourselves: Diederischen, a native of Holstein, a bank clerk in Vienna; Gusman, known as the Spaniard, who passed himself off as a German baron; the former abbe d’Espagnac, army supplier. The complicity of several purchased deputies facilitated your speculations. Chabot served as your intermediary with his colleagues. He had valued himself at 150,000 livres. d) He undertook on your behalf to carry 100,000 to Fabre d’Eglantine. e) Fabre falsified for this price the decree of the Convention concerning the liquidation of the East India Company. I submit the original for the jury’s inspection. f)
THE PEOPLE a) Laughter. — b) Laughter. — c) Louder laughter. — d) Exclamations. e) A GIRL, pointing to Fabre. — That’s the one, over there, in the armchair… f) Danton holds his nose. — He’s acting disgusted! DAVID. — He grimaces with fury and fear. — What a face he has! — Bravo, Danton! THREE WOMEN. — Do you think they’ll convict him? — When will his turn come? — I’m in a hurry.
VADIER, softly opening the wicket of the door, signals to General Hanriot, standing near the door All going well, Hanriot?
HANRIOT, low It’ll be fine.
VADIER, indicating Fouquier and the tribunal They’re not wavering?
HANRIOT, likewise Don’t worry. I’ve got my eye on them.
VADIER Good; don’t hesitate; and if the prosecutor falters, arrest him. — He closes the wicket.
HERAULT, looking at the people How the people stare at us!
DANTON, ashamed deep down, but forcing himself to laugh They’re not used to seeing this mug on the bench of infamy; it’s no ordinary spectacle: Danton conjured away by these fairground charlatans. Ha! ha! one must laugh at it! a) — Look at David over there; his
THE PEOPLE a) DAVID, pulling a notebook from his pocket. — Let me at it, I’ll get his ugly mug. He sketches Danton.
tongue hangs out of his mouth, he slavers with hatred like a dog. a) — Thunder! hold yourself together, Desmoulins! Brace up, devil take it! The people have their eyes on us.
CAMILLE Ah! Danton, I shall never see Lucile again!
DANTON Come now, you’ll sleep with her tonight.
CAMILLE Save me, Danton, tear me from this place; I no longer know what to do, I won’t be able to defend myself.
DANTON You’re weaker than a girl. Steady! Remember that we are making history.
THE PEOPLE a) DAVID. — I want posterity to split its sides laughing before his monkey face. b) A YOUNG CLERK, pinching a girl. — To the tune of a song of the time: “Does the miss dance a little bit?” THE GIRL, slapping him. — Hey now, none of that, you rascal! THE CLERK, continuing the song. — “She said, as she gave me her hand…”
DANTON If you want to see Lucile again, don’t put on the airs of a criminal crushed beneath the law! What are you looking at?
CAMILLE Look, Danton — there…
DANTON What? What are you showing me?
CAMILLE Near the window, that young man…
DANTON That brazen boy, with a lock of hair falling over his eyes, that attorney’s clerk pinching a woman’s waist?
CAMILLE It’s nothing, I had a hallucination, I saw… I saw myself…
DANTON Yourself?
CAMILLE I suddenly saw myself in his place, attending the trial of the Girondins, my victims — oh! Danton!
Meanwhile, the document alleged to have been falsified by Fabre has been passed before the eyes of the jury.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Fabre, do you persist in your denials? a)
FABRE D’EGLANTINE, very calm, weary, ironic It is useless for me to explain myself again: you are not listening to me; your mind is made up. I showed earlier that on the regular draft decree that I had drawn up, traitors introduced additions and deletions that alter its character. This is clear to anyone willing to examine the documents in a spirit of justice. That is not the case here; I know I am condemned in advance. I had the misfortune of displeasing Robespierre, and you are keen to salve his wounded pride. My life is lost. So be it; it is too worn out, and causes me too much suffering, for me to make an effort on its behalf that would exhaust me.
FOUQUIER You insult justice, and you slander Robespierre. It is not Robespierre who accuses you of corruption: it is Cambon. It is not Robespierre who accuses you of conspiracy: it is Billaud-Varenne. Your scheming nature is well known. It serves you in hatching villainous plots and writing wretched plays.
THE PEOPLE a) The people, who talk during all the interruptions of the trial, fall silent at once and hush those who are still speaking.
FABRE Hold on! Ne sutor ultra crepidam. — Gentlemen of the pit, I call you to witness: have my plays not thoroughly entertained you? a) — Fouquier may make my head fall, but not my Philinte. b)
FOUQUIER An unhealthy curiosity led you to regard the National Assembly as a sort of theater, where you sought to manipulate the secret springs of the soul. You made use of everything: the ambition of some, the laziness of others, anxiety, envy — everything served your purposes. This impudent cleverness made you the head of a veritable system of counter-revolution, whether your effrontery and your quarrelsome temperament took pleasure in overturning the established order through some perverse contempt for human reason, or rather your proven aristocratism and your greed had long since received earnest money from Pitt to ruin the Republic. c) In ‘92, we already find you conspiring with the enemy. Danton sends you
THE PEOPLE a) Laughter. b) Laughter. — A man at the back: What? What did he say? c) Murmurs. DAVID. — Well! You see? — Yes… Yes…
to Dumouriez for those criminal negotiations that saved the Prussians when they were on the verge of annihilation. a) — But this brings us to the other defendants. b) I leave you, since they are so eager for me to tear off their masks. I will return to you shortly, and I will show the knot that ties together all the threads of this monstrous intrigue.
The defendants stir. The people become more attentive. Danton says a few brief words of encouragement to his companions.
FABRE, impertinently, to Fouquier Badly constructed plot, confused intrigue; too many characters; one doesn’t know where they come from, and one knows all too well where it’s going: no need for so much talk. Your play is wretched, Fouquier. You’d do better to have my head cut off at once: I have a toothache. c)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE, to Herault de Sechelles Defendant, your name and titles. d)
HERAULT The late Herault-Sechelles. Formerly advocate-general at the Chatelet: I used to sit in this very hall. Formerly
THE PEOPLE interested, — c) Laughter. d) Who is he? Who is this aristocrat? — It’s Herault, president of the Convention:
president of the Convention; I inaugurated the Republican Constitution in his name. Formerly a member of the Committee of Public Safety; formerly a friend of Saint-Just and Couthon, who are now assassinating me. a)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE You are an aristocrat. Your fortune dates from your relations with the court, and from your presentation to the Capet woman by the Polignac. You never broke off your relations with the emigres; you were the friend of Proly the Austrian, bastard son of Prince Kaunitz, guillotined last month. You divulged the secrets of the Committee of Public Safety and delivered important papers to foreign courts. In defiance of the law, you gave shelter to the former war commissary Catus, wanted as an emigre and a conspirator. You carried your audacity so far as to go and claim him and take up his defense at the Lepelletier section, where he was under arrest. b)
HERAULT Except on one point — the divulgation of state secrets, which I formally deny and challenge you to prove — all the rest is accurate. I acknowledge it freely.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE What explanation do you give for it?
HERAULT No explanation. I had friends. No will of State could prevent me from loving them and helping them in their need.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE You had been president of the Convention. It was for you to set an example to the nation of obedience to the laws.
HERAULT I set it the example of death for duty.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Is that all you have to say?
HERAULT All.
FOUQUIER Another one, Herman. a)
THE PEOPLE a) Through the whole crowd, the name of Desmoulins is repeated. — It’s Desmoulins… Desmoulins… Camille, Camille, then, at once, silence.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Your surname, given names, and titles.
CAMILLE, very agitated Lucie-Camille-Simplice Desmoulins, deputy to the Convention.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Your age?
CAMILLE The age of the sans-culotte Jesus, when he was sacrificed: thirty-three. a)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE You are accused of having defamed the Republic. You slandered the acts of the State, compared the glory in which we live to the turpitudes of the Roman Caesars. You revived the hopes of the aristocrats, aroused suspicion against the necessity of repression, and obstructed the work of national defense. With a feigned humanity, belied by your past character, you sought to open the prisons to the suspects in order to drown the Republic
THE PEOPLE a) Various murmurs, of pity and discontent. A KNITTING-WOMAN, shaking her fist. — Papist!
beneath the flood of counter-revolutionary vengeance. — What have you to say in reply?
CAMILLE, very agitated, tries to answer, stammers, raises his hand to his forehead in anguish. His friends watch him, worried. I beg the tribunal’s indulgence. I don’t know what is wrong with me. I cannot speak. a)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Do you acknowledge the facts of which you are accused?
CAMILLE No, no.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Then defend yourself.
CAMILLE I cannot. Forgive me. I have a sudden weakness. b)
His friends press around him. He has sat down, breathes with difficulty, and wipes his brow with his handkerchief. The presiding judge shrugs.
THE PEOPLE a) TWO GIRLS. — What’s the matter with him? What’s the matter with him? THE KNITTING-WOMAN. — The miss is having her vapors! A GIRL. — Poor little thing, he’s so pale!
FOUQUIER Yes or no, do you confess?
PHILIPPEAUX Read the passages you are indicting.
DANTON Yes, read them, dare to read them to the people; let them judge on whose side their friends are.
FOUQUIER I have indicated them sufficiently; it is not proper to give new publicity to dangerous words.
DANTON Dangerous for whom? For the scoundrels? a)
FOUQUIER This comedy has been prepared in advance; we shall proceed.
CAMILLE, with anguish I am ashamed… I beg your pardon, all of you… But for several nights I have not slept; the slanders of which I am the victim have
THE PEOPLE a) Ah! ah! — The crowd stirs, pleased and curious.
overwhelmed me; I am not master of myself, and I do not know how to speak well. Give me a moment’s respite: I have a sort of vertigo. a)
FOUQUIER We have no time to lose.
DANTON At what hour are you required to deliver our heads? Can’t you wait, executioner?
PHILIPPEAUX You will wait for Desmoulins; you do not yet have the right to slaughter people without hearing them. b)
FABRE You know he is sensitive and impressionable; you want to take advantage of a moment of weakness to slaughter him: you will not do so while we still live.
HERAULT, ironic It is the duel of Emperor Commodus, who, armed with a cavalry saber, forced his opponent to fight with a foil tipped with cork.
THE PEOPLE a) A GIRL. — Won’t someone undo his cravat! A KNITTING-WOMAN. — That, a man? He’s soft as tripe! b) Yes! Yes!
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Silence!
THE FOUR DEFENDANTS Silence yourself, executioner! People, protect our rights, the sacred rights of the defense! a)
The people make a great noise.
DANTON, clasping Desmoulins’ hands Come, my child, lift up your courage.
CAMILLE, still very weary, but having regained his composure, squeezes Danton’s hand, smiles at him, and rises Thank you, friends, my inexplicable weakness is passing; your affection restores me. b) — This is what you will never have, monsters: the love of friends such as these! — You accuse me of having spoken my mind freely: I take pride in it. Faithful to the Republic that I founded, I will remain free, whatever the cost. I insulted liberty, you say? I said that liberty is happiness, is reason, is equality, is justice. Those are my outrages. People, judge from that the sort of praise they demand. c)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Do not address the people.
THE PEOPLE looking on, — c) Bravo!
CAMILLE Whom do you want me to address? The aristocrats? a) — I called for a Committee of Clemency; I wished this people to enjoy at last the liberty it seems to have conquered only to satisfy the grudges of a handful of villains. I wished men to put an end to their quarrels, and that love would make of them a great family fraternally united. It seems such wishes are a crime. — And I call a crime the furious policy that debases the nation, that defames the people by making them put their hands in innocent blood before the face of the universe. b)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE You are not the accuser here; you are the accused.
CAMILLE Very well, I accuse myself, if you wish; I accuse myself of not having always thought as I do today. Too long I believed in hatred; the passion of combat led me astray; I did too much harm myself; I fanned the flames of vengeance; the axe was
THE PEOPLE a) THE CLERK. — Well, naturally! b) Movement. — The crowd follows Desmoulins’ words with passionate attention.
more than once sharpened by my writings. Here, innocent people were led to their deaths by my words: that is my crime, my true crime, the one I share with you, the one I am expiating today.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Of whom do you speak?
FOUQUIER-TINVILLE Whose death do you regret?
PHILIPPEAUX Be silent, Desmoulins!
FABRE It’s a trap. Be careful!
DANTON Damn it! Swallow your tongue!
CAMILLE I speak of the Girondins. a)
The people murmur.
THE PEOPLE a) DAVID. — He confesses! He confesses!
FOUQUIER The defendant acknowledges of his own accord that he took part in the conspiracies of the Brissotists.
CAMILLE shrugs It was my Brissot Unmasked that got them condemned.
FOUQUIER-TINVILLE But today you regret it?
CAMILLE, without answering My colleagues! I will say to you what Brutus said to Cicero: “We fear death, exile, and poverty too much. Nimium timemus mortem et exilium et paupertatem.” Is this life really worth prolonging at the expense of honor? There is not one of us who has not reached the summit of the mountain of life. We have nothing left but to descend it through a thousand precipices, unavoidable even for the most obscure of men. This descent will offer us no landscapes, no vistas that have not presented themselves a thousand times more delightfully to that Solomon who said, surrounded by his seven hundred wives, and treading upon all that furniture of happiness: “I have found that the dead are happier than the living, and that the happiest of all is he who was never born.” (1) — He sits down.
(1) This speech is taken verbatim from the Vieux Cordelier.
DANTON Fool! You’re cutting off our heads! He embraces him. a)
Danton is informed that his turn has come. He rises and goes toward the tribunal. b)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE, to Danton Defendant, your surname, given names, age, title, and place of residence.
DANTON, in a thundering voice My residence? Soon, the void. My name? In the Pantheon. c)
The people shudder. They speak, seem to approve; then suddenly, absolute silence after the presiding judge’s words.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE You know the law: answer precisely.
DANTON I am Georges-Jacques Danton, aged thirty-four, born at Arcis-sur-Aube, lawyer, deputy
THE PEOPLE a) A GIRL. — All the same, he’s handsome! b) A great swell in the audience when Danton rises. A buzz of voices. — Here he is… Here he is… c) A general shudder. A MAN, in raptures. — Well! What do you say? Well!…
to the Convention, domiciled in Paris, rue des Cordeliers.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Danton, the National Convention accuses you of having conspired with Mirabeau and Dumouriez, of having known their liberticide designs, and of having secretly supported them. a)
Danton erupts in thunderous laughter. The judges, taken aback, the people, and even the defendants lean forward to look at him, then are seized by the contagion of his laughter. The entire hall resounds with the transports of this Homeric joy. Danton strikes the bar before him with his fist.
DANTON, laughing Liberty conspires against Liberty! Danton conspires against Danton! — Scoundrels! — Look me in the face. Liberty — she is here! He takes his head between his hands. — She is in this mask molded by her savage imprint; she is in these eyes set ablaze by her volcanic flames; she is in this voice, whose bellowing makes the palaces of tyrants tremble to their very foundations. Take my head, nail it to the shield of the
THE PEOPLE a) The people are convulsed with laughter. A frenzy of gaiety shakes the entire crowd.
Republic. Like Medusa, it will still strike dead with terror the enemies of Liberty. a)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE I am not asking you for your eulogy, but for your defense.
DANTON A man like me does not defend himself: my actions speak for themselves. I have nothing to defend, nothing to explain. There is nothing hidden in my life. I do not surround myself with mysteries to fornicate with an old woman, like Robespierre. b) My door stands wide open; there are no curtains on my bed; all France knows when I drink and when I make love. I am of the people: my vices and my virtues belong to the people; I hide nothing from them. I show myself to the world, belly bared. c)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Danton, this impudent language outrages justice.
THE PEOPLE a) Applause. b) Laughter. A WOMAN, furious. — He blasphemes! c) DAVID. — The Sardanapalus! Watch him spew!
The ignominy of your expressions shows the baseness of your soul. Moderation is the mark of innocence, and audacity that of crime.
DANTON If audacity is a crime, I embrace crime, Presiding Judge; I kiss it full on the mouth, and leave you virtue: the lean cows of Pharaoh hold no envy for me. I love audacity and boast of it: audacity with her rough embraces, her heavy breasts at which heroes drink. The Revolution is the daughter of audacity. It was she who brought the Bastilles crashing down; it was she who through my voice hurled the people of Paris against the monarchy; it was she who with my fist seized the severed head of Louis the Shortened by his fat ears, and flung it in the face of tyrants and their God. a)
The people approve and stir.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE All this bluster serves no purpose. I recall you to the specific charges brought against you, and I urge you to respond to them precisely, without
straying from the facts.
DANTON Do you expect a cold response from a revolutionary like me? My soul is like
THE PEOPLE a) Cheers.
the bronze that burns in the forge. The statue of Liberty is being cast within my breast. And it is I you would confine in a squirrel’s wheel! It is I you would subject to a catechism questionnaire! I will burst the net you seek to bind me with; my torso will shatter the shirt that is too tight. — I am accused, you say! Where are they, those who accuse me? Let them show themselves, and I will cover them with the opprobrium that defines them! a)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Once more, Danton, you fail in your duty to the national representation, to the tribunal, and to the sovereign people who have the right to demand an account of your actions. Marat was accused as you are. He did not rail against his accusers. Against facts he did not set the furies of an athlete and a rhetorician; he applied himself to justifying himself, and succeeded. I cannot propose a better model to you than that great citizen. b)
DANTON I shall therefore descend to my justification; I shall follow the plan adopted by Saint-Just… In going through
THE PEOPLE a) Divided opinions. — The greater part of the crowd approves. David and his neighbors protest. b) A WOMAN, in a heartfelt tone. — The martyr!
this catalogue of horrors, I feel my whole being shudder! — I, sold out to Mirabeau, Orleans, Dumouriez! I always fought against them. I opposed Mirabeau’s designs when I believed them dangerous to liberty. I defended Marat against him. I saw Dumouriez only to demand an accounting of the millions he had squandered. I foresaw his schemes, and to thwart them, I flattered the knave’s vanity. Should I have driven him to extremes when he held the safety of the Republic in his hands? Yes, I sent him Fabre; yes, I had him promised the generalship; but at the same time I charged Billaud to keep close watch on him. Will I be reproached for having lied to a traitor? I have committed far worse crimes for the fatherland. One does not save a State with sacristy virtues. Every crime, every one, I would have borne upon these shoulders without bending, if it had been necessary to save you all — judges, people, even the vile impostors who accuse me! a) — I, conspire with the monarchy! I do indeed recall having promoted the restoration of monarchical power on the 10th of August, the triumph of the federalists on the 31st of May, the victory of the Prussians at Valmy! b) — My accusers! Let them be brought
THE PEOPLE a) Movement. b) Ah! I should think so!
before me! I demand to speak of the scoundrels who are ruining the Republic. I have essential matters to reveal; I demand to be heard. a)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE These indecent outbursts can only harm your cause. Those who accuse you enjoy public esteem. Clear yourself first: a defendant becomes worthy of credence only when he has washed himself of the suspicions that strip all value from his denunciations. — Your republicanism alone is not at issue; your entire character is accused — your scandalous morals, your debauchery, your prodigality, your plundering, your extortions.
DANTON Don’t uncork yourself all at once. Plug up the barrel of your eloquence b); dispense it drop by drop, so nothing is wasted. — What am I accused of? Of loving life, of enjoying it? — Certainly, I love life. All the pedants of Arras and Geneva will never manage to smother the joy that ferments in the soil of Champagne, swelling the buds of vines and the desires of men. Am I to blush for my vigor?
THE PEOPLE a) But yes! But yes! DAVID. — Enough tales! Head in the sack! b) Laughter.
Nature gave me an athletic build and vast appetites. Free from the misfortune of being born of a privileged and degenerate race, I have preserved, through the storms of a devouring career, all my native vigor. What are you complaining about? It is that vigor that saved you. What does it matter to you if I spend my nights at the Palais-Royal? I rob Liberty of not a single caress. My loins suffice for all embraces. You proscribe pleasure. Has France taken a vow of chastity? Have we fallen under the rod of a surly schoolmaster, or because an old fox has had his tail cut off, must we lose ours as well? a)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE You are accused of having diverted to your own use a portion of the money entrusted to you by the State; you used secret funds for your pleasures; you squeezed Belgium dry, and brought back from Brussels three cartloads of plunder.
DANTON I have already answered these stupid fabrications. When
I was minister of the Revolution, fifty million were deposited with me:
THE PEOPLE a) Loud and prolonged laughter.
I acknowledge it; I offered to render a faithful accounting. Cambon gave me 400,000 livres for secret expenditures. I spent 200,000 openly. I gave Fabre and Billaud carte blanche. These funds were the levers with which I raised the departments. — As for the ridiculous story of the archduchess’s napkins, brought back from Belgium and their monograms removed by me — do you take me for a handkerchief thief? My trunks were opened at Bethune; an official report was drawn up: there was nothing but my clothes and a flannel corset. a) Does this corset offend
THE PRESIDING JUDGE The proof of your plundering is in the lavish life you have led for the past two years, which your modest fortune would not have permitted, had you not fattened it with the spoils of the State.
DANTON With the reimbursement of my position as advocate to the councils, I purchased some property in the district of Arcis. I secured small annuities for my mother,
THE PEOPLE a) Laughter. — b) Laughter.
for my father-in-law, for the good citizen who nursed me. These sums do not exceed the value of my position before the Revolution. — As for the life I have led in Paris or at Arcis, it may be that I have not subjected myself to squalid economy. I do not oblige my friends, when I entertain them, to eat the herb soup of Mother Duplay. a) I can no more skimp for myself than for others. Have you no shame, haggling with Danton over what he drinks and what he eats? — A contemptible hypocrisy threatens to infect the nation. It blushes at Nature; energy frightens it; it veils its face before a free gesture. Negative virtues take the place of real ones. Provided a man has a bad stomach and withered senses, provided he lives on a bit of cheese and sleeps in a narrow bed, you call him Incorruptible, and that word exempts him from courage and wit. I despise these anemic virtues. Virtue is to be great, for oneself and for the fatherland. — When you have the good fortune to have a great man among you, do not begrudge him his bread. The needs, the passions, the sacrifices — everything in him is built on another scale than in other men. Achilles ate the back of an ox at his meal. If a Danton requires vast nourishment to feed his furnace, throw it in without counting: here is
THE PEOPLE a) Laughter.
the conflagration whose flames protect you against the wild beasts that stalk the Republic. a)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE You acknowledge, then, the embezzlements of which you are accused?
DANTON You lie; I have just denied them. b) I lived broadly, honestly, careful but not miserly with the sums entrusted to me. I rendered unto Danton what I owed to Danton. Summon the witnesses I have demanded, and we will clear up the doubts. These are not accusations and answers that should remain vague; only a precise discussion, point by point, will put an end to the trial. These witnesses — where are they? Why is there a delay in summoning them? c)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Your voice is tiring, Danton: rest yourself.
THE PEOPLE a) Murmur of approval. DAVID. — The old windbag! How he bellows! If only he’d give himself laryngitis! b) But yes! But yes! c) SEVERAL VOICES. — The witnesses! DAVID, to his neighbor. — Are you going to shut up! Watch yourself. You’re defending traitors? They’ll have your head out the window too.
DANTON It is nothing; I can continue.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE You will resume your justification shortly, with more calm and composure.
DANTON, furious I am calm! — My witnesses! For three days I have been demanding them a); not one has yet been summoned. I call upon the public prosecutor to declare, before the people, why justice is denied me. b)
FOUQUIER-TINVILLE I have not opposed their being called, and I—
DANTON Then bring them; nothing is done without your orders.
FOUQUIER-TINVILLE I therefore declare that I permit the witnesses to be called d), other, however, than those designated by
THE PEOPLE a) Yes! Yes! b) SEVERAL VOICES. — The witnesses!
the defendants from among members of the Convention; for the accusation emanates from the Assembly as a whole, and it would be absurd to claim to enlist your own accusers in your justification, particularly the representatives of the people, depositories of supreme power, who owe an accounting only to the people.
HERAULT He laughs with Fabre. So my colleagues may assassinate me, and I shall be forbidden to confront my assassins!
FOUQUIER-TINVILLE Do you dare insult the national representation?
PHILIPPEAUX Are we here, then, merely for form’s sake? You want to reduce us to playing a mute role?
DANTON People, you hear them! They fear the truth. They dread the testimony that would crush them. a)
THE PEOPLE a) Movement.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Do not address the people.
PHILIPPEAUX The people are our only judge; you are nothing without them. a)
DANTON You want to gag us. You will not succeed. My voice will stir Paris to its very bowels. Light! Light! c)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Silence!
THE PEOPLE The witnesses! d) Summon the deputies!
The judges are alarmed.
THE PEOPLE c) Light! — The agitation of the crowd, which has risen in a tremendous crescendo since Danton’s first call for his witnesses, erupts in a tempest of cries and cheers that drowns out all words. d) All together, in the same furious rhythm. The witnesses! The witnesses! — David and his friends, who protest, are roughly handled.
FOUQUIER-TINVILLE It is time to put an end to this scandalous debate; I shall write to the Convention a), submit your request to it: we will obey its decision.
The people applaud. — Fouquier and Herman confer, write, read what they have written in low voices.
CAMILLE, exultant Ah! The cause is won!
DANTON We are going to confound these wretches; you will see them collapsed, face down in their own filth. b) If the French people is what it ought to be, I shall be obliged to ask for their pardon.
PHILIPPEAUX The pardon of those who want us dead!
CAMILLE, gaily Bah! We’ll make Saint-Just a schoolmaster
THE PEOPLE b) Some laughter. Conversations and arguments in the crowd.
at Blerancourt, and Robespierre a churchwarden at Saint-Omer. a)
HERAULT, shrugging They’re incorrigible. They’ll still be hoping in the tumbril.
DANTON The fools! Accusing Danton and Desmoulins of fighting the Republic! It’s Barere who’s the patriot now, isn’t it? And Danton the aristocrat! b) — France won’t swallow that nonsense for long. — To a juror. Do you believe us conspirators? Look, he’s laughing; he doesn’t believe it. Write that he—
FOUQUIER, interrupting himself in the middle of his work I ask you to cease these private conversations. The law does not permit it.
DANTON Are you going to teach your father how to make children? c) It was I who had this tribunal established; I should know a thing or two about it.
THE PEOPLE a) Some laughter. b) Some laughter, in the group Danton is addressing, and among the jurors. c) Laughter and cheerful conversations throughout Danton’s exchange with his friends.
CAMILLE I am taking a liking to the light again. A moment ago it seemed extinguished, dead, as in a tomb.
DANTON It is not the light that has regained its colors; it is you. You were not doing so well a little while ago.
CAMILLE I am humiliated by my weakness. My body is cowardly.
DANTON Schemer! You wanted to make yourself sympathetic to the women. You succeeded. See that girl over there making eyes at you.
HERAULT, gently My poor friends, I pity you.
DANTON Why, pretty boy?
HERAULT You’re selling the bear’s skin, and your own is already sold.
DANTON My skin? Yes, I know it has admirers. Saint-Just covets it. Well, let him come and take it. If he succeeds, I’m willing for him to make a bedside rug of it.
HERAULT What is the use of struggling?
He shrugs and falls silent. Meanwhile, Fouquier has written a letter that a guard takes and carries away.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE While awaiting the Convention’s reply, we shall continue the examination. — The gendarmes make the defendants sit down again. a) — To Philippeaux. Your surname, given names, and titles.
PHILIPPEAUX Pierre-Nicolas Philippeaux, formerly a judge at the presidial court of Le Mans, representative of the people at the Convention.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Your age?
PHILIPPEAUX Thirty-five.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE You attempted to paralyze the national defense during your mission in the Vendee; you sought to
THE PEOPLE a) Hush! Hush!
discredit the Committee of Public Safety through insulting pamphlets; you took part in the conspiracy of Danton and Fabre to restore the monarchy.
PHILIPPEAUX I exposed to public indignation the depredations of certain generals. It was my duty: I fulfilled it.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Your duty was — in the implacable struggle of which France was the prize — to strain every spring of national action. You broke them.
PHILIPPEAUX Ronsin and Rossignol are a disgrace to humanity. a)
FOUQUIER-TINVILLE You were not the representative of humanity, but of the fatherland.
PHILIPPEAUX My fatherland is humanity. b)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Those who arouse your pity, the royalists crushed by Rossignol — did they respect humanity?
THE PEOPLE a) DAVID. — He’s a Vendean! b) Some cheers and many protests.
PHILIPPEAUX Nothing excuses crime.
FOUQUIER-TINVILLE Victory does. a)
PHILIPPEAUX Prosecutor, I accuse you. I denounce these infamous words to the people.
FOUQUIER-TINVILLE, shrugging Let the people judge!
The people are divided; they applauded Fouquier and talk noisily.
DANTON, low to Desmoulins Be quiet, you fool! You’re throwing stones in my garden.
CAMILLE, surprised How so?
DANTON I’ve said far worse!
THE PEOPLE a) DAVID. — Bravo, Fouquier! — Yes, yes, bravo!
THE PRESIDING JUDGE, to Westermann. a) Defendant, rise.
WESTERMANN It’s my turn? Thunder! Forward!
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Your name?
WESTERMANN You know it well enough.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Your name?
WESTERMANN, shrugging What a fuss! — Ask the people.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE You are Francois-Joseph Westermann, a native of Alsace, brigadier general. You are forty-three years old. It was you who were to be the sword of the plot. Danton had you brought back to Paris to command the troops of the counter-revolution. You committed atrocities in your army. You were the cause of the defeat at Chatillon.
THE PEOPLE a) Murmur of interested voices. — Westermann… Westermann…
THE PRESIDING JUDGE In concert with Philippeaux, you tried to bring down the patriots you were charged with defending. — Your antecedents are, moreover, deplorable. You have had three accusations of theft.
WESTERMANN You lie, swine! a)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE I shall have you escorted back to prison for insults to justice, and judged without being heard.
WESTERMANN For fifteen years I was a soldier. On the 10th of August, I commanded the people at the storming of the Tuileries. I fought at Jemmapes. Dumouriez abandoned me in Holland, in the midst of the enemy; I brought my legion back to Antwerp. Then I was sent to the Vendee; I gave the brigands of Charette and Cathelineau a hard time. Savenay, Ancenis, Le Mans are fat with their carcasses. The cowards accuse me of being cruel; they don’t say enough: I was ferocious with the craven. — You want proof against me? Here it is: at Pontorson, I had my cavalry charge my own fleeing soldiers. At Chatillon, I slashed a cowardly officer’s face with my saber. I would have burned my army if need be for victory. — I stole, you say?
THE PEOPLE a) Laughter.
What business is it of yours? You are imbeciles. I did my job as a soldier; I am not a tradesman. My duty is to defend the soil of the fatherland by every means: I have done so for thirty years, sparing neither my sweat nor my blood. I have received seven wounds, all in front; I have only one from behind: my indictment. a)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE You have several times, before witnesses, uttered insulting words against the Convention. You threatened to bring the palace down on the backs of the representatives.
WESTERMANN That is true. I hate this suspicious and chattering rabble that obstructs all action with its jealous stupidity. I said the Convention needed sweeping and that I would take charge of removing the manure. b)
FOUQUIER-TINVILLE You acknowledge the conspiracy?
THE PEOPLE a) Laughter and cheers. b) Laughter and protests.
WESTERMANN What are you talking about, conspiracy? I thought alone. I would have acted alone. I am the friend of none of those who are here. I have spoken a few times with Danton; I respect his energy; but he is also a lawyer, and I have no confidence in lawyers. France cannot be saved by speeches, but by sabers. a)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE That will suffice. The matter is clear.
WESTERMANN Guillotine me. The guillotine is also a stroke of the saber. I ask only one thing: that they lay me on my back; I want to face the blade. b)
Vadier and Billaud-Varenne enter. Fouquier rises and goes to shake their hands. A murmur runs through the crowd. c)
THE PEOPLE a) Some cheers, and numerous protests. Some begin by applauding, then grow more indignant than the others. b) Some applause, and agitation. One senses the crowd has sympathy for Westermann; but it watches itself, and waits to take sides for an initiative that does not come.
THE PEOPLE The reply from the Convention! From the Convention!
BILLAUD-VARENNE, in an undertone The scoundrels — we have them!
VADIER, in an undertone, to Fouquier Here is something to put you at your ease.
FOUQUIER, likewise We needed it.
Agitation — then profound silence. Fouquier reads, standing — the two conventionnels standing beside him.
FOUQUIER, reading “The National Convention, having heard the report of its Committees of Public Safety and General Security, decrees that the Revolutionary Tribunal shall continue the proceedings relative to the conspiracy of Danton and others a), that the presiding judge shall employ all means the law affords him to enforce his authority and to suppress any attempt by the defendants to disturb the public peace and obstruct the course of justice — decrees that any person accused of conspiracy who resists or insults
THE PEOPLE a) Deep and silent agitation.
the national justice shall be removed from the proceedings forthwith.” a)
Stupefaction and whispering. Then suddenly the crowd speaks loudly and animatedly, and the defendants, at first stunned, erupt.
CAMILLE Infamy! They are smothering us! b)
PHILIPPEAUX These are not judges; they are butchers.
DANTON, to Fouquier You haven’t read it all. There is something else. The reply! The reply to our demand! c)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Silence!
FOUQUIER d) The Convention communicates the following letter, which the Committees received from the police
THE PEOPLE a) Movement. The crowd whispers. Then, rapid crescendo. — Well, that’s too much! — Noisy conversations. b) Agitation. — Yes! Yes! c) Yes! Yes! The reply! d) Icy silence.
administration, so that the tribunal may see what peril threatens Liberty. a)
(Reading) “Commune of Paris. b)
“We, administrators of the police department, having received a letter from the warden of the Luxembourg prison, proceeded at once to said prison, and brought before us citizen Laflotte, formerly minister of the Republic at Florence, detained in said prison for approximately six days; who declared to us that yesterday, between six and seven o’clock in the evening, being in the room of citizen General Arthur Dillon, the said Dillon, having drawn him aside, told him that it was necessary to resist oppression, that the men of intelligence and courage detained in the Luxembourg and other prisons should unite; that Desmoulins’ wife was placing a thousand ecus at his disposal for the purpose of stirring up a crowd around the Revolutionary Tribunal…” c)
CAMILLE, beside himself The wretches! Not content with assassinating me, they
THE PEOPLE a) Movement of curiosity. People question one another. b) Silence again. c) Agitation.
want to assassinate my wife as well! — He tears his hair.
DANTON, shaking his fist at Fouquier Scoundrels! Scoundrels! They invented this plot to destroy us! a)
Murmur from the people.
FOUQUIER, continuing to read, rising above the noise, managing to recapture the crowd’s attention ”…Laflotte resolved to feign sharing their views in order to learn their plan better. Indeed, Dillon, imagining he had won him over to his infamous plot, laid out and discussed the various schemes before him. Laflotte places himself at the disposal of the Committee of Public Safety to reveal the details.”
The agitation of the crowd drowns out his voice.
CAMILLE, as if mad Monsters! Cannibals! — He crumples the papers he holds in his hand and hurls them at Fouquier’s head. — To the people! Help! Help! b)
THE PEOPLE a) The people approve and are indignant. — The noise continues during the rest of Fouquier’s reading and breaks out more violently afterward. b) Outcries.
DANTON, thundering Cowardly murderers, while you’re at it, have us tied to this bench, take a knife, and bleed us! a)
PHILIPPEAUX Tyranny!
DANTON People, they are killing us, they are slaughtering you along with us! They are murdering Danton! Paris, rise up! Rise up! b)
WESTERMANN To arms! c)
Immense rumbling within and without.
THE PEOPLE a) The people, moved, fascinated, exult and applaud. — He’s choking! He’s foaming! It’s magnificent! What a voice he has! — Bravo! b) Two voices at the back, then all, repeat. — Tyranny! c) The entire crowd. — To arms!
The tumult drowns out all voices. One can barely hear Danton’s roars in the midst of the storm. He lunges at Vadier, from whom the gendarmes and the presiding judge’s table separate him. He shakes his fist at him. The crowd boos Vadier, who, shoulders hunched, lets the storm pass, and watches from the corner of his eye with an ironic and malicious indifference.
FOUQUIER, pale, shaken — to the two conventionnels What shall we do? — At any moment the crowd may rush us.
BILLAUD The brigands! — Hanriot, clear the hall.
VADIER That would be the signal for a battle, and who knows whether we would be the stronger?
FOUQUIER, who has just looked out the window The crowd is massed on the quai. They could force the doors.
DANTON People, we can do anything; we have triumphed over kings, over the armies of Europe. To battle! Let us crush the tyrants!
VADIER, to Fouquier First things first: send them back to prison; put that loudmouth in the dark.
DANTON, shaking his fist at Vadier See these cowardly assassins; they will follow us to the death. — Vadier! Vadier! Dog! Come here! Since this is a struggle of cannibals, let them at least fight me for my life with their fists!
VADIER, to Fouquier Prosecutor, execute the decree. a)
FOUQUIER-TINVILLE The appalling indecency with which the defendants have conducted their defense, the insults, the threats they have the impudence to hurl at the tribunal, must determine it to take measures proportionate to the gravity of the circumstances. Accordingly, I move that the questions be put and the verdict pronounced in the absence of the defendants. c)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE The tribunal will deliberate on the matter. Have the defendants sit down.
DANTON seems not to have understood, chokes, lets out a bestial howl.
VADIER, in an undertone Shout, my good fellow, shout: you’re in the bag.
THE PEOPLE b) The tumult subsides when the presiding judge strikes the table. c) Stupefaction and mute agitation. The people continue to stir and talk during all the rest of the scene — in the grip of a sort of fever.
HERAULT, rising and brushing off his coat It is finished.
DANTON lets himself be led back to his bench by the gendarmes and sinks down, stunned. Done for!… At the paroxysm of violence, suddenly restraining himself. — Peace, Danton, peace! The fates are fulfilled.
CAMILLE, crying out I am Robespierre’s friend! I cannot be condemned…
WESTERMANN, to Danton Stop that fool from disgracing himself.
DANTON, dismayed They are mad. Poor country, what will become of it, deprived of a head like this one?
HERAULT, to Desmoulins Come, my friend, let us show that we know how to die.
PHILIPPEAUX We have lived long enough to fall asleep in the bosom of glory; let us be led to the scaffold!
CAMILLE My wife! My son! I shall never see you again! — No, it cannot be. My friends, my friends, help!
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Remove the defendants.
DANTON Keep still, and leave this vile rabble.
HERAULT, as if eager to have done with it, goes toward Fabre without waiting for the gendarmes, who are making the defendants rise. Give me your arm, my friend: here is the end of your suffering.
FABRE D’EGLANTINE We will have had a fine spectacle before we die.
DANTON Well, Fabre, no offense, but here is a play that trumps yours.
FABRE There are fine things in it. I tremble that Collot d’Herbois will destroy the manuscript. He is jealous of me.
DANTON Console yourself — we shall all do over there what you have done all your life.
FABRE What is that?
DANTON Verse.
HERAULT The Convention will be quite empty tomorrow. I yawn at the thought that those who survive us will be condemned to listen, without falling asleep on pain of death, to Robespierre and Saint-Just — Saint-Just and Robespierre.
DANTON They will not listen long. I am opening the grave; Robespierre will follow me into it.
FABRE I would have liked to see the development of the character of certain little scoundrels: Barras, Tallien, Fouche. But one must not ask too much.
HERAULT Let us be off.
They exit.
CAMILLE, clinging to his bench, from which the gendarmes tear him I will not go! You want to kill me in prison. Help! Help! O people, I made the Republic! Defend me — I defended you! — You will not tear me from this place, monsters! Cowards! Assassins! — Ah! Lucile! Horace! Beloved! Beloved! a)
He is carried out, screaming.
DANTON, moved And I too have a wife, children. — Catching himself. Come now, Danton, no weakness.
WESTERMANN, to Danton Why don’t you take advantage of the people’s emotion? They are ready to fight.
DANTON This rabble! Come now! — An audience of hams! — They enjoy the spectacle we give them; they are here to applaud the winner. They are too used to having me act for them.
WESTERMANN Then act.
THE PEOPLE a) No, no, that’s too much, it’s cowardly! Poor little fellow, leave him alone, they mustn’t condemn him! The crowd is deeply moved, would like to act, dares not; but one senses revolt fermenting.
DANTON Too late. And besides, I don’t give a damn. The Republic is lost: I would rather die before it does.
WESTERMANN There is the fruit of your hesitations. Why didn’t you strike before Robespierre?
DANTON The Revolution cannot live without both our heads. I could not have defended myself except by slaughtering him. I love the Revolution more than myself.
Westermann exits.
PHILIPPEAUX Come, Danton; it is consoling to die as one has lived.
DANTON I committed every crime for Liberty. I shouldered every fearsome task that the hypocrisy of others shrank from. I sacrificed everything to the Revolution, and I see clearly now that it was in vain. That harlot has betrayed me; she sacrifices me today; she will sacrifice Robespierre tomorrow; she will yield to the first adventurer who climbs into her bed. — No matter! I regret nothing; I love her; I am glad to have disgraced myself for her. I pity the poor devils who will never have rubbed their skin against Liberty’s. Once you have kissed the divine wench, you can die: you have lived.
He exits with Philippeaux.
FOUQUIER-TINVILLE I invite the jury to declare whether it is sufficiently informed.
THE FOREMAN The jury will retire to deliberate.
The jury exits.
The crowd is restless, undecided, ill-disposed. — Outside, Danton’s voice can be heard, and the vociferations of the people. — The audience presses to the windows. A few court officials also go to look. a) Those in the hall repeat the words from outside, first in undertones, then more loudly.
THE PEOPLE a) THE CLERK, leaning out the window. — There they go, coming out! THE PEOPLE around him, crowding to see. — Let us see, let us see… THE CLERK. — Desmoulins is screaming and struggling. A GIRL. — Poor devil! He’s mad; his clothes are torn; his chest is bare. THE CLERK. — Danton is speaking. THE PEOPLE. — Listen! — Danton’s voice, outside. THE PEOPLE, outside. — Long live Danton! Fouquier to the lamppost! THE PEOPLE, inside, repeating the cries from outside. — Long live Danton! Death to Fouquier!
FOUQUIER The riot is beginning. We are going to be torn apart.
VADIER Let us prevent these cries from influencing the jury’s minds. Let us go enlighten them.
They exit. The crowd protests against Vadier and Fouquier, who enter the jury’s chamber. a)
THE PRESIDING JUDGE, terrified Citizens… the sanctity of the tribunal… the respect due to justice.
The tumult drowns out his voice. b)
THE PEOPLE a) The part of the audience far from the window. — Oh no, not that, Vadier! Vadier! That’s not fair! That’s not justice! THE OTHERS, near the window, continuing to look. THE CLERK. — They’re running after the carriage. They’re waving their hats. THE CLERK. — There’s a gendarme thrown from his horse! THE CROWD. — Bravo! — They mustn’t condemn them! — The others, if they want; but not Danton! Danton free! Danton free! — Deafening tumult, inside and out. b) Danton! We want Danton!
THE PRESIDING JUDGE We are overwhelmed. They will massacre everyone. — He retreats toward the exit, his hand on the door handle.
The furious crowd smashes benches and storms the tribunal, howling threats of death. a)
SAINT-JUST enters. b)
The people fall suddenly silent, intimidated. A young man who had begun the cry of “Danton free!” stops in the middle and stands with his mouth open. — Saint-Just looks at the crowd, coldly, harshly, straight on. It falls back. Icy silence for several seconds. Then murmurs rise again, but less violent. c)
VADIER has re-entered behind Saint-Just and takes advantage of the momentary calm. Citizens, the Commission of Supplies and Provisions of the Republic—
The crowd hushes those who are talking. d)
THE PEOPLE a) Danton! — The Committee is murdering the patriots! — Death to the Committee! b) Saint-Just… Saint-Just… — A tremor runs through the crowd. c) A WOMAN, alone. — Danton free, Saint-Just! SEVERAL VOICES. — A pardon for Danton! — Murmurs. d) Hm? What? — Silence!
VADIER, continuing — announces to the public the arrival this evening of a convoy of flour and firewood at the port of Bercy.
A great clamor rises. a) A general stampede. The crowd jostles and shoves to get out. Only a small number of obstinate curiosity-seekers remain until the end of the trial.
VADIER, watching the crowd with a mocking look The heart is good, but the stomach is better.
The jury returns. The monotone of the presiding judge’s questions is lost in the cries of the departing crowd. Gradually, the noise dies away outside, and Herman’s voice is heard more distinctly. The sentence is pronounced in a deathly silence.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE, to the jurors Citizen jurors — there existed a conspiracy tending to defame and debase the national representation, to restore the monarchy, and to destroy through
THE PEOPLE a) General commotion. — Let me through. — After me, then! — I’m in a hurry. — Well, so am I? — You’ll wait! — The devil! — Hurry! — Wait, I want to see the end. TWO OLD BOURGEOIS. — Let us go slowly and let them shout. Step by step, one goes a long way.
corruption the republican government. — Did Georges-Jacques Danton, lawyer, deputy to the National Convention, take part in this conspiracy?
THE FOREMAN Yes.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Did Lucie-Simplice-Camille Desmoulins, lawyer, deputy to the Convention, take part in this conspiracy?
THE FOREMAN Yes.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Did Marie-Jean Herault-Sechelles, advocate-general, deputy to the Convention, take part in this conspiracy?
THE FOREMAN Yes.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Did Philippe-Francois-Nazaire Fabre, known as d’Eglantine, deputy to the Convention, take part in this conspiracy?
THE FOREMAN Yes.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Did Pierre-Nicolas Philippeaux, formerly a judge, deputy to the Convention, take part in this conspiracy?
THE FOREMAN Yes.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Did Francois-Joseph Westermann, brigadier general, take part in this conspiracy?
THE FOREMAN Yes.
FOUQUIER-TINVILLE I move that the law be applied.
THE PRESIDING JUDGE Accordingly, the tribunal pronounces that Georges-Jacques Danton, Lucie-Simplice-Camille Desmoulins, Marie-Jean Herault-Sechelles, Philippe-Francois-Nazaire Fabre known as d’Eglantine, Pierre-Nicolas Philippeaux, and Francois-Joseph Westermann are condemned to death; — orders that this judgment shall be served upon them between the two wickets of the Conciergerie prison by the clerk of the tribunal; — to be carried out this day, the 16th of Germinal, at the Place de la Revolution.
The crowd disperses. a) Outside, distant murmurs that gradually die away. — Saint-Just, Vadier, Billaud-Varenne, remaining at the front of the stage, look at one another — implacable and mute.
VADIER The rotten colossus is felled. The Republic breathes.
BILLAUD-VARENNE, looking at Saint-Just with a fierce eye The Republic will not be free until there are no more dictators.
SAINT-JUST, looking harshly at Vadier and Billaud The Republic will not be pure until there are no more men of prey.
THE PEOPLE a) DAVID AND HIS FRIENDS. — Come now! The beast is down; we’ll have blood pudding. — Long live the Convention! — They exit. OLD BOURGEOIS, in an undertone. — What do you say to that? — Well, one must hold one’s tongue. — By living, one grows old. They raise their arms and withdraw, shaking their heads, fearfully.
VADIER, sneering The Republic will not be free, the Republic will not be pure, until the Republic is no more.
SAINT-JUST Ideas have no need of men. Peoples die, so that God may live.
Paris November 1898.