"Well, madame, this is my question: 'Does your majesty purpose and aim at the reestablishment of the old regime, and do you deem it possible to roll the chariot of human history and of politics backward?"
"You have in your question given the answer as well," said Marie Antoinette, with a sigh. "It is impossible to reerect the same edifice out of its own ruins. One must be satisfied if out of them a house can be built, in which one can manage to live."
"Ah, your majesty," said Mirabeau, with feeling, "this answer is the first ray of light which breaks through the heavy storm-clouds! The new day can be descried and hailed with delight! After hearing this noble answer of your majesty, I look up comforted, and the clouds do not terrify me longer, for I know that they will soon be past—that is, if we employ the right means."
"And now I repeat my question, count, What, according to your view, are the right means?"
"First of all, the recognition of what is wrong," answered Mirabeau, "and then the cheerful and honest will to do what is found to be necessary."
"Well, tell me, what is it that is wrong?"
Mirabeau bowed, and then began to speak to her in his clear, sharp way, which was at the same time so full of energy, of the situation of France, the relation of the various political parties to one another, to the court, and the throne. In strongly outlined sentences he characterized the chiefs of the political clubs, the leaders of the parties in the National Assembly, and spoke of the perilous goal which the demagogues, the men of the extreme Left, aimed at. He did not, from delicacy, speak the word "republican," but he gave the queen to understand that the destruction of the monarchy and the throne, the annihilation of the royal family, was the ultimate object aimed at by all the raving orators and leaders of the extreme Left.
The queen had listened to him with eager, fixed attention, and, at the same time, with a dignified composure; and the earnest, thoughtful look of her large eyes had penetrated and moved Mirabeau more and more, so that his words came from his lips like a stream of fire, and kindled a new hope even in himself.
"All will yet be well," he cried, in conclusion; "we shall succeed in contending with the hidden powers that wish to undermine your majesty's throne, and to take from the hands of your enemies these dangerous weapons of destruction. I shall apply all my power, all my eloquence to this. I will oppose the undertakings of the demagogues; I will show myself to be their public opponent, and zealously serve the monarchy, making use of all such means of help as are adapted to move men's minds, and not to trouble and terrify them, as if freedom and self-government were to be taken from them, and yet which will restore the credit and power of the monarchy."
"Are you, then, with honest and upright heart, a friend of ours?" asked Marie Antoinette, almost supplicatingly. "Do you wish to assist us, and stand by us, with your counsel and help?"