Jacques Danton?—Danton! Hot Cordelier!
Dark Titan forging to a Titan’s end!
Shake not thy black locks from the tribune there,
Nor rend the heavens with thy mighty voice!
‘Tis not for thee, the victor’s golden crown,
The voice of France—
[The doors of the château open. Enter three lackeys
bearing a great gilt chair, which they place with
ceremony at the head of the steps which lead from
the terrace into the garden.