Fouché. (sternly.) And do you hope to throw dust in my eyes?
What means this note from Madame de Cabarus
Now in your bosom—sent to you this morning—
And this your answer? (producing a billet.) Have I fathom'd you?
The mystic writing on the palace wall
Scar'd not Belshazzar more than this does you.
(Tallien goes to the door.)
Nay, never call your men or make those signals,
I have foreseen the worst that you can do.
Tallien.—Chief of Police, while you are in this house
Your life is in my hands—when you are gone,
Mine is in yours. Now tell me why you came?
Fouché.—To show you that I know of your designs.
Tallien.—And is that all?
Fouché.—Not quite. To offer service—
A politician should not start as you do
At every word.
Tallien.—Ah—can I—dare I trust you?
Fouché.—I do not ask created man to trust
Honor or oath of him whose name is Fouché.
I know mankind, and study my own interest—
Interest, Tallien—that mainstring of all motion—
Chain of all strength—pole star of all attraction
For human hearts to turn to. Let me see
My interest in supporting you, and I
Can aid and guard you through the coming peril.
Tallien.—Name your terms.
Fouché.—My present post and what
Beside is mentioned in this schedule.
(giving a paper.)
Tallien.—Your price is high, but I am pledged to pay it.
(giving his hand.)