_St. Just._--Neither, sir: Save a few voices, all look'd on in silence. _Robes._--Ha! did they so?--but when the engine rattled, And the axe fell, didst thou perceive him shudder? _St. Just._--He turn'd his face to the descending steel, And calmly smil'd. A low and ominous murmur Spread through the vast assemblage--then, in peace, They all dispers'd. _Robes._--I did not wish for this. _St. Just._--No man, since Louis Capet---- _Robes._--Say no more My worthy friend--the friend of France and freedom-- Hasten to guard our interest in yon junto Of fools and traitors, who, like timid sheep, Nor fight nor fly, but huddle close together, Till the wolves come to gorge themselves among them-- And in the evening, you and all my friends Will meet me here, deliberate, and decide To advance, or to recede. Be still, we cannot; And hear me, dear St. Just--A man like you, Firm and unflinching through so many trials, Who sooner would behold this land manured With carcases and moistened with their blood, Than yielding food for feudal slaves to eat, True to your party and to me your _brother_-- For so I would be term'd--has the best claim That man can have to name his own reward When France is all our own. Bethink you then What post of honor or of profit suits you, And tell me early, that I may provide, To meet your views, a part in this great drama. _St. Just._--Citizen Robespierre--my hearty thanks; Financial Minister, by any name Or trumpery title that may suit these times, Is what I aim at--gratify me there And I am yours through more blood than would serve To float the L'Orient.[1] [Footnote 1: A French line of battle ship. Burnt at the battle of Aboukir.] _Robes._--'Tis well, St. Just, But wherefore citizen me? I have not used The term to you--we are not strangers here. _St. Just._--Pardon me, sir, (or _Sire_, even as you please) The cant of Jacobins infects my tongue, I had no meaning farther. One word more Before we part--now Danton is cut off, We may be sure that all his partisans And personal friends are our most deadly foes, And it were politic and kind in us To spare their brains unnumbered schemes of vengeance And seize at once the power to silence them. To give them time were ruin; some there are Whose love of gold is such that were it wet With Danton's blood they would not less receive it. These may be brib'd to league with us. Farewell.