Lebrêt. Citizen Prosper, what is the meaning of this?
Grasset. Have no fear. I wager that the dagger is not even sharpened.
Host. In that, my friend, you may be making a mistake. One fine day the jest may turn to earnest—and so I am ready for all emergencies.
Grasset. The day is nigh. We live in great times. Come, Citizen Labrêt, we will go to our comrades. Farewell, Prosper; you will see me either a great man or never again.
Lebrêt (giddily). As a great man—or—not at all.
[Exeunt. Host remains behind, sits on a table, opens a pamphlet, and reads aloud.]
Host. "Now that the beast is in the noose, throttle it." He doesn't write badly, that little Desmoulins. "Never was richer booty offered to the victors. Forty thousand palaces and castles, two-fifths of all the property in France, will be the reward of valor. Those who plume themselves on being conquerors will be put beneath the yoke, the nation will be purged."
Enter the Commissaire.
Host (sizing him up). Hallo—the rabble's beginning to come in pretty early tonight.
Commissaire. My dear Prosper, don't start any of your jokes on me; I am the Commissaire of your district.