Camille. Nothing—nothing—hallucinations: I saw, I thought I saw—myself—
Danton. Yourself?
Camille. I imagined I was in his place, at the trial of the Girondins—my victims—Oh, Danton! [Meanwhile the documents have been handed to all the jurymen.]
Judge. Fabre, do you still deny the accusations?
Fabre d'Églantine [quietly, ironically, but wearily]. There is no need of my explaining it all again: you would refuse to listen; you have already made up your mind. I showed you just now that the true version of the decree which I made out had been changed, added to, and corrected, by traitors. That is evident to any one who will take the trouble to look at the papers dispassionately and in a spirit of justice. But there is no one of that sort here: I know very well that I was condemned in advance. I was unlucky enough to incur Robespierre's displeasure, and it is your business to pander to his egotism. I know this is the end. But I am tired of life, it has brought me too much suffering for me to make an effort to preserve it.
Fouquier-Tinville. You are outraging justice, and you slander Robespierre. It is not Robespierre who accuses you of corruption: it is Cambon. It is not Robespierre who accuses you of conspiracy: it is Billaud-Varenne. Your propensity for intrigue is well-known. It has often led you to plot and conspire and write dangerous plays.
Fabre d'Églantine. Silence! Ne sutor ultra
