Page:Rolland - Two Plays of the French Revolution.djvu/149

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DANTON
143

Camille. You have only to throw them another. Tell me, don't you read my Vieux Cordelier? Does not its voice resound throughout the Republic?

Lucile. Do you know how popular the last number was? He's had letters from every one—and what weeping, and kisses, and declarations of love! If I were jealous—! They implore him to continue, and save the country.

Hérault. How many of these friends would help him if he were attacked?

Camille. I need no one's help. My writing-desk is enough! This David's sling [pointing to his pen] has just overthrown the proud guillotine, the prince of blackguards. I've broken the pipe of Père Duchesne, the famous pipe that like the trumpet of Jericho, after it had thrice been smoked around a reputation, made it fall of its own accord. From this pen went forth the stroke that struck the cowardly Goliath in the head. I made his own people hoot him. Did you notice the pipe-bowls about Père Duchesne's cart just now? That was my idea. It has proved a prodigious success. Why do you look at me?

Hérault. An idea!

Camille. What is it?

Hérault. Do you sometimes think of death?

Camille. Death? No, I don't like to. It's nasty.

Hérault. Did you never think how awful it would be?

Lucile. How horrible! Fine things to talk about! Hérault. You are a good, dear, lovable child, and yet you are cruel—like a child.