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Matchless knave!

ROBESPIERRE.

He shall be heard!

BOURDON L'OISE.

Must we contaminate this sacred hall
With the foul breath of treason?

COLLOT D'HERBOIS.
Hence with him to the bar.
COUTHON.

Drag him away!

Oh, just proceedings!
Robespierre prevented liberty of speech-
And Robespierre is a tyrant! Tallien reigns,
He dreads to hear the voice of innocence-
And St-Just must be silent!

LEGENDRE.

Heed we well

That justice guide our actions. No light import

What-not one blush of conscience on thy cheek-Attends this day. I move St-Just be heard.

Not one poor blush of truth! Most likely tale!
That I who ruin'd Brissot's towering hopes,
I who discover'd Hebert's impious wiles,
And sharp'd for Danton's recreant neck the ax,
Should now be traitor! had I been so minded,
Think ye I had destroy'd the very men
Whose plots resembled mine? Bring forth your proofs
Of this deep treason. Tell me in whose breast
Found ye the fatal scroll? or tell me rather
Who forged the shameless falsehood?

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FRERON.

Inviolate be the sacred right of man,
The freedom of debate.

ST-JUST.

[Violent applause

I may be heard, then! much the times are changed
When St-Just thanks this hall for hearing him.
Robespierre is call'd a tyrant. Men of France,
Judge not too soon. By popular discontent
Was Aristides driven into exile,
Was Phocion murder'd? Ere ye dare pronounce
Robespierre is guilty, it befits ye well,
Consider who accuse him. Tallien,
Bourdon of Oise-the very men denounced,
For their dark intrigues disturb'd the plan
Of government. Legendre, the sworn friend
Of Danton, fall'n apostate. Dubois Crancé,
He who at Lyons spared the royalists-
Collot d'Herbois-

BOURDON L'OISE.

What shall the traitor rea
His head amid our tribune-and blaspheme
Each patriot? shall the hireling slave of faction-

ST-JUST.

I am of no faction. I contend
Against all factions.

TALLIEN.

I espouse the cause
Of truth. Robespierre on yester-morn pronounced
Upon his own authority a report.
To-day St-Just comes down. St-Just neglects
What the committee orders, and harangues
From his own will. O citizens of France,

I weep for you-I weep for my poor country-
I tremble for the cause of Liberty,
When individuals shall assume the sway,
And with more insolence than kingly pride
Rule the republic.

BILLAUD VARENNES.

Shudder, ye representatives of France,
Shudder with horror. Henriot commands
The marshall'd force of Paris-Henriot,
Foul parricide-the sworn ally of Hebert,
Denounced by all-upheld by Robespierre.
Who spared La Vallette? who promoted him,
Stain'd with the deep dye of nobility?
Who to an ex-peer gave the high command?
Who screen'd from justice the rapacious thief?
Who cast in chains the friends of Liberty?
Robespierre, the self-styled patriot Robespierre-
Robespierre, allied with villain Daubigné-
Robespierre, the foul arch-tyrant Robespierre.

BOURDON L'OISE.

He talks of virtue-of morality-
Consistent patriot! he, Daubigné's friend!
Henriot's supporter virtuous! Preach of virtue,
Yet league with villains, for with Robespierre
Villains alone ally. Thou art a tyrant!
I style thee tyrant, Robespierre!

ROBESPIERRE.

The arrest of the traitors. Memorable
Will be this day for France.

ROBESPIERRE.

Yes! memorable

This day will be for France for villains triumph.

LEBAS.

I will not share in this day's damning guilt.
Condemn me too.

[Great cry-Down with the Tyrants! (The two ROBESPIERRES, COUTHON, ST-JUST and LEBAS are led off).

АСТ III.

SCENE continues.

COLLOT D'HERBOIS.

Cæsar is fallen! The baneful tree of Java,
Whose death-distilling boughs dropt poisonous dew,
Is rooted from its base. This worse than Cromwell,
The austere, the self-denying Robespierre,

[Loud applauses. Even in this hall, where once with terror mute
We listen'd to the hypocrite's harangues,
Has heard his doom.

Take back the name, ye citizens of France-
[Violent clamor. Cries of-Down with the Tyrant!

TALLIEN.

Oppression falls. The traitor stands appall'd-
Guilt's iron fangs engrasp his shrinking soul—
He hears assembled France denounce his crimes!
He sees the mask torn from his secret sins-
He trembles on the precipice of fate.
Fall'n guilty tyrant! murder'd by thy rage,
How many an innocent victim's blood has stain'd
Fair Freedom's altar! Sylla-like, thy hand
Mark'd down the virtues, that, thy foes removed,
Perpetual Dictator thou mightst reign,
And tyrannize o'er France, and call it freedom!
Long time in timid guilt the traitor plann'd
His fearful wiles-success embolden'd sin-
And his stretch'd arm had grasp'd the diadem
Ere now, but that the coward's heart recoil'd,
Lest France awaked, should rouse her from her dream,
And call aloud for vengeance. He, like Cæsar,
With rapid step urged on his bold career,
Even to the summit of ambitious power,

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And deem'd the name of King alone was wanting. The National Convention shall remain

Was it for this we hurl'd proud Capet down?

Is it for this we wage eternal war

Against the tyrant horde of murderers,

The crown'd cockatrices whose foul venom
Infects all Europe? was it then for this
We swore to guard our liberty with life,
That Robespierre should reign? the spirit of freedom
Is not yet sunk so low. The glowing flame
That animates each honest Frenchman's heart
Not yet extinguish'd. I invoke thy shade,
Immortal Brutus! I too wear a dagger;
And if the representatives of France,
Through fear or favor, should delay the sword
Of justice, Tallien emulates thy virtues;
Tallien, like Brutus, lifts the avenging arm;
Tallien shall save his country.

[Violent applauses.

BILLAUD VARENNES.

I demand

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Why, we will die like men then;
The representatives of France dare death,
When duty steels their bosoms.

[Loud applauses.

TALLIEN (addressing the galleries).
Citizens!

France is insulted in her delegates-
The majesty of the republic is insulted-
Tyrants are up in arms. An armed force
Threats the Convention. The Convention swears
To die, or save the country!

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[Loud applauses

A factious turbulent party

Lording it o'er the state since Danton died,
And with him the Cordeliers.-A hireling band
Of loud-tongued orators controll'd the club,
And bade them bow the knee to Robespierre.
Vivier has 'scaped me. Curse his coward heart-
This fate-fraught tube of Justice in my hand,
I rush'd into the hall. He mark'd mine eye
That beam'd its patriot anger, and flash'd full
With death-denouncing meaning. 'Mid the throng

[Violent applauses from the galleries. He mingled. I pursued-but staid my hand,
Lest haply I might shed the innocent blood.

CITIZEN (from above).

We too swear

To die, or save the country. Follow me.

FRÉRON.

[Applauses

[All the men quit the galleries. They took from me my ticket of admission—

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Through the throng I rush'd,
Brandishing my good sword to drench its blade
Deep in the tyrant's heart. The timid rebels
Gave way. I met the soldiery-I spake
Of the dictator's crimes-of patriots chain'd
In dark deep dungeons by his lawless rage-
Of knaves secure beneath his fostering power.
I spake of Liberty. Their honest hearts
Caught the warm flame. The general shout burst forth,
"Live the Convention-Down with Robespierre!"

[Applauses.
[Shouts from without-Down with the Tyrant!

TALLIEN.

Expell'd me from their sittings.-Now, forsooth,
Humbled and trembling re-insert my name;
But Fréron enters not the club again
Till it be purged of guilt-till, purified
Of tyrants and of traitors, honest men
May breathe the air in safety.

BARRERE.

[Shouts from without.

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Hear ye this, Colleagues? hear ye this, my brethren.
And does no thrill of joy pervade your breasts?

I hear, I hear the soul-inspiring sounds,
France shall be saved! her generous sons, attached My bosom bounds to rapture. I have seen

The sons of France shake off the tyrant yoke;

I have, as much as lies in mine own arm,

BARRERE (mounts the Tribune). For ever hallow'd be this glorious day,

Hurl'd down the usurper.-Come death when it will, When Freedom, bursting her oppressive chain, I have lived long enough.

BARRERE.

[Shouts without.

Hark! how the noise increases! through the gloom
Of the still evening-harbinger of death,
Rings the tocsin! the dreadful generale
Thunders through Paris-

Tramples on the oppressor. When the tyrant,
Hurl'd from his blood-cemented throne by the arm
Of the almighty people, meets the death
He plann'd for thousands. Oh! my sickening heart

Has sunk within me, when the various woes
Of my brave country crowded o'er
my brain
In ghastly numbers-when assembled hordes,

[Cry without-Down with the Tyrant! Dragg'd from their hovels by despotic power,

Enter LECOINTRE.

LECOINTRE.

So may eternal justice blast the foes

Of France! so perish all the tyrant brood,
As Robespierre has perish'd! Citizens,
Cæsar is taken.

[Loud and repeated applauses.
I marvel not, that with such fearless front,
He braved our vengeance, and with angry eye
Scowl'd round the hall defiance. He relied

On Henriot's aid—the Commune's villain friendship,
And Henriot's boughten succors. Ye have heard
How Henriot rescued him-how with open arms
The Commune welcomed in the rebel tyrant-
How Fleuriot aided, and seditious Vivier
Stirr'd up the Jacobins. All had been lost-
The representatives of France had perish'd-
Freedom had sunk beneath the tyrant arm
Of this foul parricide, but that her spirit
Inspired the men of Paris. Henriot call'd
"To arms" in vain, whilst Bourdon's patriot voice
Breathed eloquence, and o'er the Jacobins
Legendre frown'd dismay. The tyrants fled-
They reach'd the Ilotel. We gather'd round-we

call'd

For vengeance! Long time, obstinate in despair,
With knives they hack'd around them. Till foreboding
The sentence of the law, the clamorous cry
Of joyful thousands hailing their destruction,
Each sought by suicide to escape the dread
Of death. Lebas succeeded. From the window
Leapt the younger Robespierre, but his fractured limb
Forbade to escape. The self-will'd dictator
Plunged often the keen knife in his dark breast,
Yet impotent to die. He lives all mangled
By his own tremulous hand! All gash'd and gored,

He lives to taste the bitterness of Death.

Even now they meet their doom. The bloody Couthon,
The fierce St-Just, even now attend their tyrant
To fall beneath the ax. I saw the torches
Flash on their visages a dreadful light-
I saw them whilst the black blood roll'd adown
Each stern face, even then with dauntless eye
Scowl round contemptuous, dying as they lived,
Fearless of fate!

[Loud and repeated applauses.

Rush'd o'er her frontiers, plunder'd her fair hamlets And sack'd her populous towns, and drench'd with

blood

The reeking fields of Flanders.-When within,
Upon her vitals prey'd the rankling tooth
Of treason; and oppression, giant form,
Trampling on freedom, left the alternative
Of slavery, or of death. Even from that day,
When, on the guilty Capet, I pronounced
The doom of injured France, has Faction rear'd
Her hated head amongst us. Roland preach'd
Of mercy-the uxorious dotard Roland.
The woman-govern'd Roland durst aspire
To govern France; and Petion talk'd of virtue,
And Vergniaud's eloquence, like the honey'd tongue
Of some soft Syren, wooed us to destruction.
We triumph'd over these. On the same scaffold
Where the last Louis pour'd his guilty blood,
Fell Brissot's head, the womb of darksome treasons,
And Orleans, villain kinsman of the Capet,
And Hebert's atheist crew, whose maddening hand
Hurl'd down the altars of the living God,
With all the infidel's intolerance.
The last worst traitor triumph'd-triumph'd long,
Secured by matchless villany. By turns
Defending and deserting each accomplice,
As interest prompted. In the goodly soil
Of Freedom, the foul tree of treason struck
Its deep-fix'd roots, and dropt the dews of death
On all who slumber'd in its specious shade.
He wove the web of treachery. He caught
The listening crowd by his wild eloquence,
His cool ferocity, that persuaded murder,
Even whilst it spake of mercy!-Never, never
Shall this regenerated country wear
The despot yoke. Though myriads round assail,
And with worse fury urge this new crusade
Than savages have known; though the leagued
despots

Depopulate all Europe, so to pour
The accumulated mass upon our coasts,
Sublime amid the storm shall France arise,
And like the rock amid surrounding waves
Repel the rushing ocean.-She shall wield
The thunderbolt of vengeance-she shall blast
The despot's pride, and liberate the world!
221

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Miscellaneous Poems.

PROSE IN RHYME: OR EPIGRAMS, MORALITIES, AND THINGS WITHOUT A NAME

Ἔρως ἄει λάληδρος ἔταιρος.

In many ways does the full heart reveal

The presence of the love it would conceal;
But in far more th' estranged heart lets know

The absence of the love, which yet it fain would show.

LOVE.*

ALL thoughts, all passions, all delights,
Whatever stirs this mortal frame,
All are but ministers of Love,
And feed his sacred flame.

Oft in my waking dreams do I Live o'er again that happy hour, When midway on the mount I lay

Beside the ruin'd tower.

The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene, Had blended with the lights of eve; And she was there, my hope, my joy,

My own dear Genevieve!

She leant against the armed man, The statue of the armed knight; She stood and listen'd to my lay,

Amid the lingering light.

Few sorrows hath she of her own,
My hope! my joy! my Genevieve!
She loves me best, whene'er I sing
The songs that make her grieve.

I play'd a soft and doleful air,
I sang an old and moving story-
An old rude song, that suited well
That ruin wild and hoary.

She listen'd with a flitting blush,
With downcast eyes and modest grace;
For well she knew, I could not choose
But gaze upon her face.

I told her of the Knight that wore Upon his shield a burning brand; And that for ten long years he wooed The Lady of the Land.

I told her how he pined: and ah! The deep, the low, the pleading tone With which I sang another's love, Interpreted my own.

fis piece may be found, as originally published, under anuther litle at page 28.

She listen'd with a flitting blush,
With downcast eyes, and modest grace,
And she forgave me, that I gazed
Too fondly on her face.

But when I told the cruel scorn
That crazed that bold and lovely Knight,
And that he cross'd the mountain-woods,
Nor rested day nor night;

That sometimes from the savage den,
And sometimes from the darksome shade.
And sometimes starting up at once

In green and sunny glade,

There came and look'd him in the face
An angel beautiful and bright;
And that he knew it was a Fiend,
This miserable Knight!

And that, unknowing what he did,
He leap'd amid a murderous band,
And saved from outrage worse than death
The Lady of the Land!

And how she wept, and clasp'd his knees;
And how she tended him in vain-
And ever strove to expiate

The scorn that crazed his brain.
And that she nursed him in a cave;
And how his madness went away,
When on the yellow forest-leaves
A dying man he lay.

His dying words-but when I reach'd
That tenderest strain of all the ditty,
My faltering voice and pausing harp
Disturbed her soul with pity!

All impulses of soul and sense
Had thrill'd my guiltless Genevieve;
The music and the doleful tale,
The rich and balmy eve;

And hopes, and fears that kindle hope
An undistinguishable throng,

And gentle wishes long subdued,
Subdued and cherish'd long!

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