"Prostitute!" cried Marat.
Danton was terrible in his wrath.
"Yes," he cried; "you have spoken the word! I have sold my virtue, but I saved the world!"
Robespierre meanwhile continued to bite his nails. He could neither laugh nor smile. He possessed not the lightning-like laughter of Danton, nor the sting of Marat's smile.
Danton continued,—
"I am like the ocean: I have my flood and ebb. When the tide is low you can see the shoals; but at high tide you see only the waves."
"What one might call your froth," said Marat.
"My tempest, rather," replied Danton.
They both sprang to their feet, and Marat burst forth; the adder suddenly assumed the shape of a dragon.
"Ah, Robespierre! ah, Danton!" he exclaimed, "you will not listen to me. I tell you, you are lost! Your policy brings you up against a wall! Every issue is closed to you, and you go on committing deeds that will finally leave you with no outlet save that of the grave."