HÉRAULT [smiling]. I'll not say another word. [LUCILE goes out.]
PHILIPPEAUX. So you have decided to go ahead, Desmoulins?
CAMILLE. Yes.
PHILIPPEAUX. No truce, then! Press on, drive your quill without mercy. The worst danger lies in this skirmishing warfare you are carrying on. You are satisfied merely to goad them with your arrows; that only gives them more power against you. Aim at the heart, if you can, and complete the work at a stroke.
HÉRAULT. My friends, I do not approve of your plans, but if you have made up your minds, you must, of course, have every chance in your favor. If we intend to start warfare, Desmoulins' pen—forgive me, Camille!—is not enough. The people do not read. The success of the Vieux Cordelier misleads you; it does not reach the people; it has quite another public. You know very well, Camille: you complained that one number was sold at twenty sous. Aristocrats like us buy it. The people know only what the club orators tell them, and they are not on your side. You may write down to the people and try to use expressions you have heard in the markets; you will never be one of the people. There is only one way to influence them: have Danton talk to them. His thunder alone can stir that vast chaos. Danton has only to shake his mane, and the forum is in his power. But Danton does nothing; he's asleep—away from Paris. He doesn't address the Convention. No one knows what has become of him. Who has seen him lately? Where is he? What is he doing? [Enter DANTON and WESTERMANN.]
DANTON. Danton swims in debauchery. Danton dallies with the women. Danton's rest is like Hercules'! [DESMOULINS runs to DANTON and shakes hands with him, laughing. WESTERMANN stands aside, preoccupied.]
CAMILLE. Hercules still keeps his club, so long as there are monsters to be killed.
DANTON. Don't speak of killing. It's too horrible. France reeks with blood; the smell of dead flesh befouls the air. I just crossed the Seine; the sun was setting, and the river was red. It seemed to flow in waves of blood. If our rivers are so foul, where shall we wash our hands? There are enough dead! Let us build up the Republic. Let the harvests and men grow once more and become a new Patrie. Let us love one another and cultivate our fields.
CAMILLE. May some god give us the chance, Danton! We are counting on you.
DANTON. What is it, my children?