Well done--noble levellers of the age!--Pull the boasted culture of the nobility to the gutter.--Bravo!--We've demolished the old nest; now to hunt the young hawk down! MOB. Aye!--Aye! POTIN. [_Waving the_ MOB _back_.] Stop!--La Rochejacquelein is found! SCARLOTTE. Where is he? POTIN. There--our prisoner. SCARLOTTE. Drag him to the river! MOB. Aye--to the river! POTIN. Stand back!--He belongs to our battalion. CARRAC. What insolence is this? We demand his surrender here--to us. POTIN. We surrender him to none but our own Colonel. CARRAC. We are the people and supreme!--We represent the civil power of the State, that rules the soldier. MOB. Aye!--Aye! POTIN. [_To the_ SOLDIERS.] Make ready!--Aim! [SOLDIERS _aim_;--_the_ MOB _fall back_.] You're ten to one.--Come on, you civil rulers, and take him if you can. CARRAC. This is treason! SCARLOTTE. Aye--treason!--Treason! [_The_ MOB _groan_. POTIN. Soldiers have no rulers but their officers! CARRAC. Someone go for General Kleber. Bid him come at once--to quell this mutiny. SCARLOTTE. I will bring him. [_Crosses_.] Death to all who dare to balk the people's will! [_Exit_. BOURDOTTE. Meantime, Citizen Carrac, we have some prisoners here at hand that we can dispatch at once. CARRAC. How many? BOURDOTTE. Five.--Two men, and three women--perfect beauties! CARRAC. Bravo! Their beauty and their lives are ours! [_Cheers from_ MOB.] Bring them in! [_Exeunt eight_ SANS CULOTTES.] Citizens, we've won to-day a glorious victory. POTIN. There he goes boasting, when he never struck a blow. CARRAC. Let's complete our triumph--prove our power-- MOB. Bravo!--Bravo! CARRAC. You are the people!--You are France!--Let the Nation voice her will through you.--What shall we do with our prisoners? BOURDOTTE. Kill them. MOB. Aye--kill them--kill them! BOURDOTTE. Drown the men like puppies, and put the women to public shame! MOB. Aye! Aye! CARRAC. The voice of the people is the voice of God.--Have your will--it is God's command! _Enter_ CITIZENS, _dragging the_ DUKE, GOUROC, DIANE, NANETTE, _and_ ALINE, _a young girl_. _The_ MOB _groan and laugh mockingly. The young girl is dragged forward--two_ SANS CULOTTES _contending for her_. FIRST SANS CULOTTE. She's mine! SECOND SANS CULOTTE. You lie!--I caught her first! ALINE. Mercy!--Kill me if you will,--but spare me this! CARRAC. [_Laughing_.] Citizens,--behold your victims! [MOB _rush forward with ferocious yells_. DUKE. [_Interposing_.] No, no!--Let my grey hairs suffice! [_The_ MOB _pause_. PAUL. [_Starting up, speaks aside_.] My God!--That voice! [_During what follows_, PAUL--_screened from the_ MOB'S _view by his soldier_ GUARDS--_expresses in pantomime his conflicting emotions_. CARRAC. [_To the_ DUKE.] Who are you? GOUROC. [_Speaking quickly_.] We are Citizens of the Republic!--He [_Pointing at the_ DUKE.]