HOCHE. What difference? There are only two parties in the world: the healthy and the sick. What is healthy goes with life. Life is with us. Come! LA CONTAT. With you--willingly. HOCHE. So you won't decide! Very well, we'll see later on, if we have time to think. LA CONTAT. There is always time for love. HOCHE. You've been made to think that too often. Do you think our revolution is going to be merely some gallant little story? Ah, you little women! During the fifty years you have been governing France, and had everything brought you, done for you, did it never enter your heads that there might be something more important than your dainty selves? Play is over and done with, Madame. This is a serious game, in which the stake is the world itself. Make way for the men! If you dare, follow us to battle, help us, share our faith, but, by God, don't dare try to shake it. You count for very little beside it. I'm not angry, Contat! I have no time for a flirtation, and as for my heart, it already belongs to some one else. LA CONTAT. To whom? HOCHE. To Liberty. LA CONTAT. I'd like to know what she looks like. HOCHE. She is a little like you, I imagine. Very healthy, well-built, blonde, passionate, audacious, but rouged like yourself, with beauty-spots--ironic, too; but she _does,_ instead of making fun of those who do; and instead of making double-meaning phrases, she breathes words of devotion and fraternity. I am her lover. When you are like her, I will love you. That is all I have to say. LA CONTAT. I like her, and I will have you. Now, to battle! [_She snatches a musket from one of the People, and declaims with great warmth, a few lines from "Cinna":_] "Thou need'st fear no success which shames thy name! For good and evil both are for thy glory, And though the plot's reveal'd and thou dost die, Thy honor's still intact. Think but of Brutus And valiant Cassius, are their names obscured? Did these two heroes perish with their plots? Are they not honored with the greatest Romans? . . . . . . . . . . Go, follow them, where honor bids you tread!" [_She rushes into the arms of the People, who wildly applaud her._] HOCHE. Splendid! Let Corneille be our guide! Wave the torch of heroism before our eyes! HULIN. Where are you going? HOCHE. Where are we going? [_He raises his eyes, and looks at the house of little_ JULIE _who, partly dressed, leans out the window, excited and joyous_.] Ask that little woman. I want her to give the answer which is in all our hearts. You innocent little one, be our voice, and tell us where we are going? JULIE [_leaning far out of the window, but kept from falling by her mother,--shouting at the top of her voice_]. To the Bastille!