This very calmness and composure only seemed to enrage Simon the more. He could not forgive the child for honoring his father and mother, and, seizing him roughly, he threw him across the room and down to the floor, with a volley of oaths and abusive epithets. Nor was this the worst of which the monster was guilty. If a rising occurred anywhere in France, against the Revolution and its crimes, he vented his rage and spite upon his victim. On the sixth of August, Montbrison rose in arms, with the cry, “God save King Louis the Seventeenth!” Three or four days later the news reached the Temple, and Simon immediately pounced upon the Prince.
“Here, madame,” said he, jeeringly, “allow me to present to you the King of Montbrison, and”—he continued, taking off the boy’s Jacobin cap—“I will anoint him at once and burn incense to him!” Whereupon he rubbed the poor child’s head and ears roughly with his hard hands, blew tobacco smoke from his pipe into his face, and finally flung him over to his wife, that she in her turn might do homage to “His Majesty.” On the tenth of August, the Convention gave a fête for the people, and Simon awakened the Prince from his morning sleep and commanded him to shout, “Long live the Republic!” The child did not seem to understand at first; he arose, and began to put on his clothes in silence, when Simon, who was standing before him with folded arms, repeated imperiously:
“Make haste, Capet! This is a great day; you must shout ‘Vive la Republique!’”
The boy made no answer, but went on with his dressing.
“Hey! Who am I talking to here?” cried the cobbler, furiously. “Accursed King of Montbrison, will you shout ‘Vive la Republique!’ quickly—or—” and he made a significant gesture with his clenched fist.
The Prince raised his head with a resolute expression, and, looking full at his tormentor, replied in a clear, firm voice: “You may do what you choose with me, but I will never cry, ‘Vive la Republique!’”
He spoke so proudly and nobly that even this hardened villain gave way before him, and for once did not venture to do him any violence.
“Good, good!” said Simon with a sneer, to cover his discomfiture; “I will see that your behavior is made known.” And indeed he did repeat the whole incident to everyone in the Temple; but no one blamed the Prince, and some even praised him for his strength of character.
The next morning the cobbler seemed to have repented of his weakness. He procured an account of the fête of the preceding day, and forced the boy to stand and listen while he read it aloud. The Prince obeyed; but at one part, which contained a gross insult to his father, he could no longer control his rebellious feelings, and retired to one of the window recesses to hide his face and his tears. Simon hurried after him, dragged him roughly back by the hair to the table, and ordered him, under pain of a beating, to stand there and listen quietly and attentively. Then he resumed his reading, and laid particular emphasis on the words: “Let us swear to defend the Constitution unto death; the Republic shall live forever!”
“Do you hear that, Capet?” he shouted; “the Republic shall live forever!”