"He has at last decided to put in an appearance!"
And then another—
"He hasn't even the courtesy of kings, yet he has enough of their insolence!"
Robespierre recognised the voice.
It was Barère's. Drops of gall were already falling into his cup of joy. But as the people began to applaud at the lower end of the gardens, Robespierre advanced to the edge of the tribune, and bowed. The expectant crowd swayed as one man towards him, unwilling to lose a single gesture or a single word. So stood the Incorruptible, enwrapped and penetrated by the inebriating vapours of adulation and the perfume of all the palms and bouquets that rose as incense at his feet.
But again a discordant note was touched, and another voice was heard—
"See how like a throne the tribune stands!"
And in fact, set high above the steps, it did seem raised on a pedestal. Robespierre felt this as in some embarrassment he unfolded his manuscript, and commenced. His voice was almost inaudible, except to the members of the Convention seated near him. Passages on which he counted most passed unheeded, and he felt the encouragement of his friends to be indiscriminate and misplaced, like that of some theatre claque.
When he had finished he was greeted with considerable applause, that was more formal than genuine; it mounted from the gardens and reached him, mingled with the strains of Gossec's hymn, just started by the Opera choir. Robespierre left the tribune dissatisfied with himself, but convinced that his address to the people on the Place de la Révolution, from the altar of flowers erected at the foot of the statue of Liberty, would retrieve this first failure. There he would be in direct contact with people, and then they would see! For he felt the people were with him; their acclamation coming up to him from the gardens was proof enough.
He descended the steps, followed by the Convention, and went towards the first fountain on the lawn, from which rose an allegorical group, representing Atheism surrounded by the Vices, led by Folly, while Wisdom, standing apart, pointed a warning finger at the group. He was to set a match to this ingenious specimen of artistic pyrotechny, when Atheism was supposed to disappear, dragged down by Folly and the Vices, leaving Wisdom alone, radiantly triumphant. But it was the very opposite that happened. Wisdom caught fire and upset the whole arrangement, provoking disrespectful laughter among the deputies.