Who vainly hope to save themselves, but stood As prompt to follow me as I to lead them, Our faction would have rallied. Might the cries Of death and rapine through this blazing city Have been my funeral knell I had gladly died. Then had they seen my spirit whelm'd and crush'd, Yet gazing upward like the o'erthrown arch fiend To a _loftier_ seat than that from which he fell. But now---- _St. Just._--Regrets are useless! such as we May not join hands or say farewell, like others; But since we die together, let us face This reptile crowd, like men who've been their lords, And show them, though they slay, they cannot daunt Those who were born to sway their destinies. (_men and women surrounding the cart_.) _1st Woman._--Descend to hell, I triumph in thy death! Die, thou accurs'd of every wife and mother! May every orphan's wail ring in thy ears, And every widow's cry, and matron's groan! _2d Woman._--Thine execution maddens me with joy: Monster, depart--perish, even in thy crimes, And may our curses sink thee into depths Whence even omnipotent mercy will not raise thee! (_they shout and hiss him_.) _Robes._--Silence awhile these shouts, unfetter'd slaves, Hear his last words, whose name but yesterday Struck terror to your souls! Dare ye so soon Think that your lives are safe, and I still breathing? Deem ye the blow that speeds my dissolution And gives my body to the elements, Will be the signal to call freedom hither? Will peace and virtue dwell among ye _then_? Never! ye bondmen of your own vile passions; For crested serpents are as meet to range At large and poison-fang'd among mankind, As ye who claim a birthright to be free. Thank your own thirst of plunder and of blood, That I, and such as I, could reign in France. A tyrant ye _must_ have. I have been _one_, And _such_ a one, that ages hence shall gaze, Awe-struck on my pre-eminence in blood, And men shall, marvelling, ask of your descendants If that my name and deeds be not a fable. I die--and, Frenchmen, triumph while you may! The man breathes now and walks abroad among ye, Who shall be my successor. I can see Beyond the tomb--and when ye dare to rise And beard the tyrant faction, now victorious, His rule commences. He shall spill more blood In one short day to crush your hopes of freedom, Than I in half my reign--but God himself Ne'er had the homage ye shall render _him_. Champions of freedom, ye shall _worship_ him, And in the name of liberty be plunder'd Of all for which your sons have fought and died; And in the name of glory he shall lead ye On to perdition, and when ye have plac'd Your necks beneath his feet, shall spend like dust Your treasures and pour forth your bravest blood To be the scourge of nations and of kings. And he shall plant your eagles in the west, And spread your triumphs even to northern snow,