_Tallien._ Freedom lives! Oppression falls--for France has felt her chains, Has burst them too. Who traitor-like stept forth Amid the hall of Jacobins to save 90 Camille Desmoulins, and the venal wretch D'Eglantine? _Robespierre._ I did--for I thought them honest. And Heaven forefend that Vengeance e'er should strike, Ere justice doom'd the blow. _Barrere._ Traitor, thou didst. Yes, the accomplice of their dark designs, 95 Awhile didst thou defend them, when the storm Lower'd at safe distance. When the clouds frown'd darker, Fear'd for yourself and left them to their fate. Oh, I have mark'd thee long, and through the veil Seen thy foul projects. Yes, ambitious man, 100 Self-will'd dictator o'er the realm of France, The vengeance thou hast plann'd for patriots Falls on thy head. Look how thy brother's deeds Dishonour thine! He the firm patriot, Thou the foul parricide of Liberty! 105 _Robespierre Junior._ Barrere--attempt not meanly to divide Me from my brother. I partake his guilt, For I partake his virtue. _Robespierre._ Brother, by my soul, More dear I hold thee to my heart, that thus With me thou dar'st to tread the dangerous path 110 Of virtue, than that Nature twined her cords Of kindred round us. _Barrere._ Yes, allied in guilt, Even as in blood ye are. O, thou worst wretch, Thou worse than Sylla! hast thou not proscrib'd, Yea, in most foul anticipation slaughter'd 115 Each patriot representative of France? _Bourdon l'Oise._ Was not the younger Caesar too to reign O'er all our valiant armies in the south, And still continue there his merchant wiles? _Robespierre Junior._ His merchant wiles! Oh, grant me patience, heaven! 120 Was it by merchant wiles I gain'd you back Toulon, when proudly on her captive towers Wav'd high the English flag? or fought I then With merchant wiles, when sword in hand I led Your troops to conquest? fought I merchant-like, 125 Or barter'd I for victory, when death Strode o'er the reeking streets with giant stride, And shook his ebon plumes, and sternly smil'd Amid the bloody banquet? when appall'd The hireling sons of England spread the sail 130 Of safety, fought I like a merchant then? Oh, patience! patience! _Bourdon l'Oise._ How this younger tyrant Mouths out defiance to us! even so He had led on the armies of the south, Till once again the plains of France were drench'd 135 With her best blood. _Collot d'Herbois._ Till once again display'd Lyons' sad tragedy had call'd me forth The minister of wrath, whilst slaughter by Had bathed in human blood.