_Freron._ They took from me my ticket of admission-- Expell'd me from their sittings.--Now, forsooth, 90 Humbled and trembling re-insert my name. But Freron 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. [_Shouts from without._ 95 _Barrere._ What means this uproar! if the tyrant band Should gain the people once again to rise-- We are as dead! _Tallien._ And wherefore fear we death? Did Brutus fear it? or the Grecian friends Who buried in Hipparchus' breast the sword, 100 And died triumphant? Caesar should fear death, Brutus must scorn the bugbear. (_Shouts from without--Live the Convention!--Down with the Tyrants!_) _Tallien._ Hark! again The sounds of honest Freedom! _Enter_ Deputies _from the_ Sections. _Citizen._ Citizens! representatives of France! Hold on your steady course. The men of Paris 105 Espouse your cause. The men of Paris swear They will defend the delegates of Freedom. _Tallien._ Hear ye this, Colleagues? hear ye this, my brethren? And does no thrill of joy pervade your breasts? My bosom bounds to rapture. I have seen 110 The sons of France shake off the tyrant yoke; I have, as much as lies in mine own arm, Hurl'd down the usurper.--Come death when it will, I have lived long enough. [_Shouts without._ _Barrere._ Hark! how the noise increases! through the gloom 115 Of the still evening--harbinger of death, Rings the tocsin! the dreadful generale Thunders through Paris-- [_Cry without--Down with the Tyrant!_ _Enter LECOINTRE._