ROBESPIERRE. I beg your pardon.
CAMILLE. You're trembling.
LUCILE. I'm cold. Good-by, Camille. I'm so tired. I must go to sleep. [CAMILLE smiles at her and blows a kiss. ROBESPIERRE bows. She disappears, after bowing to the men. The dawn has come, and the shy behind the Bastille is richly colored. In the midst of the far-off shouting are heard the first stray fusillades]
ROBESPIERRE [turning toward the noise]. Come, now. No more love today. [He goes out.]
CAMILLE [descending from the barricade]. No more love? What then? Is it not love that now arouses this city, swelling every breast, and sacrificing the vast harvest of humanity? Oh, my love, you are not narrow and selfish, you bind me to these men with stronger bonds. You are everything, you embrace the whole world. It is not Lucile alone I love, but the universe. Through your dear eyes, I love all who love, who suffer, who are happy, who live, and who die. I love! I feel the sacred flame within me! It colors the eastern sky above the Bastille. The last shadows are gone, and this will go, too, this nightmare-shadow! [The Bastille, monstrous and black, stands forth against the bright red shy. The voice of the cannon suddenly rends the silence, and reverberates above the confusion of the people in the distance, the fusillade, the bells, and the roll of the drums. CAMILLE smiles, and faces the Bastille, putting his finger to his nose.] The wolf howls, ha! Growl, show your teeth! You are doomed! Since the King likes hunting, let us hunt the King!
[ACT III]
[Tuesday, July 14th. The Interior Court of the Bastille. To the left are seen the bases of two enormous towers the tops of which are invisible. Between them are thick masses of wall, rising up like mountains of stone. Opposite is the gate and the draw-bridge leading to the Government Court. To the right, a one-story structure standing against the walls of the other towers. As the curtain rises, the Pensioner BÉQUART and his companions are stationed in the Court, with three cannon. VINTIMILLE, commander of the Pensioners, is seated, bored and indifferent. Swiss Guards enter now and then from the draw-bridge with news of the revolt, which is now heard outside the other gate leading to the Government Court. The rattle of muskets, cries, and the beating of drums are heard without. Occasional smoke clouds rise above the walls.]
DE LAUNEY [Governor of the Bastille, enters from the other court, nervous and agitated]. Well, Monsieur de Vintimille, you see? They are attacking!
VINTIMILLE [with a touch of irony and weariness]. Well, Monsieur de Launey, let them attack. What is it to us? Unless they have wings, like the Messieurs Montgolfier, I defy them to make their way in.