Are the Sections friendly?
ROBESPIERRE.
There are who wish my ruin but I'll make them
Blush for the crime in blood!
BARRERE.
Nay but I tell thee,
Thou art too fond of slaughter and the right
(If right it be) workest by most foul means!
ROBESPIERRE.
Self-centering Fear! how well thou canst ape Mercy!
Too fond of slaughter! matchless hypocrite!
Thought Barrere so, when Brissot, Danton died?
Thought Barrere so, when through the streaming streets
Of Paris red-eyed Massacre, o'er wearied,
Reel'd heavily, intoxicate with blood?
And when (O heavens!) in Lyons' death-red square
Sick fancy groan'd o'er putrid hills of slain,
Didst thou not fiercely laugh, and bless the day?
Why, thou hast been the mouth-piece of all horrors,
And, like a blood-hound, crouch'd for murder! Now
Aloof thou standest from the tottering pillar,
Or, like a frighted child behind its mother,
Hidest thy pale face in the skirts of Mercy!
BARRERE.
O prodigality of eloquent anger!
Why now I see thou'rt weak thy case is desperate!
The cool ferocious Robespierre turn'd scolder!
ROBESPIERRE.