the heart, if you can, and complete the work at a stroke.
Hérault. My friends, I do not approve of your plans, but if you have made up your minds, you must, of course, have every chance in your favor. If we intend to start warfare, Desmoulins' pen—forgive me, Camille!—is not enough. The people do not read. The success of the Vieux Cordelier misleads you; it does not reach the people; it has quite another public. You know very well, Camille: you complained that one number was sold at twenty sous. Aristocrats like us buy it. The people know only what the club orators tell them, and they are not on your side. You may write down to the people and try to use expressions you have heard in the markets; you will never be one of the people. There is only one way to influence them: have Danton talk to them. His thunder alone can stir that vast chaos. Danton has only to shake his mane, and the forum is in his power. But Danton does nothing; he's asleep—away from Paris. He doesn't address the Convention. No one knows what has become of him. Who has seen him lately? Where is he? What is he doing? [Enter Danton and Westermann.]
Danton. Danton swims in debauchery. Danton dallies with the women. Danton's rest is like Hercules'! [Desmoulins runs to Danton and shakes hands with him, laughing. Westermann stands aside, preoccupied.]
Camille. Hercules still keeps his club, so long as there are monsters to be killed.
