LA CONTAT. I like her, and I will have you. Now, to battle! [She snatches a musket from one of the People, and declaims with great warmth, a few lines from "Cinna":]
"Thou need'st fear no success which shames thy name!
For good and evil both are for thy glory,
And though the plot's reveal'd and thou dost die,
Thy honor's still intact. Think but of Brutus
And valiant Cassius, are their names obscured?
Did these two heroes perish with their plots?
Are they not honored with the greatest Romans?
. . . . . . . . . . . .
Go, follow them, where honor bids you tread!"
[She rushes into the arms of the People, who wildly applaud her.]
HOCHE. Splendid! Let Corneille be our guide! Wave the torch of heroism before our eyes!
HULIN. Where are you going?
HOCHE. Where are we going? [He raises his eyes, and looks at the house of little JULIE who, partly dressed, leans out the window, excited and joyous.] Ask that little woman. I want her to give the answer which is in all our hearts. You innocent little one, be our voice, and tell us where we are going?
JULIE [leaning far out of the window, but kept from falling by her mother,—shouting at the top of her voice]. To the Bastille!
THE PEOPLE. To the Bastille! [The Crowd is at the highest pitch of excitement. They gather into little groups—workingmen, bourgeois, students, and women.] The Bastille! The Bastille! Break the yoke! At last! Down with that stupid mass! Monument of our defeat and degradation! The tomb, of those who dare speak the truth!—Voltaire's prison!—Mirabeau's prison!—The prison of Liberty! Let's breathe!—Monster, you will fall! We'll pull down every stone of you! Down with the murderer! Coward —Cut-throat! [They shake their fists at the Bastille, and shout until they are hoarse. HULIN, ROBESPIERRE, and MARAT wildly wave their arms, and try to make themselves heard above the clamor. It is seen that they disapprove of what the People are doing, but their voices are drowned out.]
HULIN [at last making himself heard]. You're mad, mad, I tell you! We'll only break ourselves against that mountain!
MARAT [his arms crossed]. I really marvel at you! Giving yourselves all this trouble to free a handful of aristocrats! Don't you know that there are only a few rich men in there? It's a luxurious prison, made especially for them. Let them mind their own affairs. That doesn't concern you.