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LEBAS.

ROBESPIERRE.

FRERON.

BILLAUD VARENNES.

The arrest of the traitors. Memorable Shudder, ye representatives of France,

Will be this day for France. Shudder with horror. Henriot commands

ROBESPIERRE. The marshallid force of Paris-Henriot,

Yes! memorable Foul parricide—the sworn ally of Hebert, This day will be for France-for villains triumph. Denounced by all-upheld by Robespierre. Who spared La Vallette? who promoted him, I will not share in this day's damning guilt. Stain'd with the deep dye of nobility ?

Condemn me 100. Who to an ex-peer gave the high command ?

(Great cry-Down with the Tyrants! Who screen'd from justice the rapacious thief? Who cast in chains the friends of Liberty ?

(The two ROBESPIERRES, COUTHON, ST-Just and LEBAS Robespierre, the self-styled patriot Robespierre

are led off).
Robespierre, allied with villain Daubigné-
Robespierre, the foul arch-tyrant Robespierre.

ACT III.
BOURDON L'OISE.
He talks of virtue-of morality-

SCENE continues.
Consistent patriot! he, Daubigné's friend !

COLLOT D'HERBOIS.
Henriot's supporter virtuous ! Preach of virtue,

Cæsar is fallen! The baneful tree of Java,
Yet league with villains, for with Robespierre
Villains alone ally. Thou art a tyrant!

Whose death-distilling boughs dropt poisonous dew,

Is rooted from its base. This worse than Cromwell, I style thee tyrant, Robespierre !

The austere, the self-denying Robespierre, (Loud applauses.

Even in this hall, where once with terror mute

We listen’d to the hypocrite's harangues, Take back the name, ye citizens of France

Has heard his doom. [Violent clamor. Cries of Down wilh the Tyrant!

BILLAUD VARENNES.

Yet must we not suppose
TALLIEN.

The tyrant will fall tamely. His sworn hireling
Oppression falls. The traitor stands appallid Henriot, the daring desperate Henriot
Guilt's iron fangs engrasp his shrinking soul Commands the force of Paris. I denounce him.
He hears assembled France denounce his crimes !
He sees the mask torn from his secret sins-

I denounce Fleuriot too, the

mayor of Paris. He trembles on the precipice of fate. Fall'n guilty tyrant! murder'd by thy rage,

Enter DUBOIS CRANCÉ. How many an innocent victim's blood has stain'd

DUBOIS CRANCÉ. Fair Freedom's altar! Sylla-like, thy hand

Robespierre is rescued. Henriot at the head Mark'd down the virtues, that, thy foes removed, Of the arm'd force has rescued the fierce tyrant. Perpetual Dictator thou mightst reign, And tyrannize o'er France, and call it freedom!

COLLOT D'HERBOIS. Long time in timid guilt the traitor plann'd

Ring the tocsin-call all the citizens His fearful wiles—success embolden'd sin

To save their country-never yet has Paris And his stretch'd arm had grasp'd the diadem

Forsook the representatives of France.
Ere now, but that the coward's heart recoil'd,

TÅLLIEN.
Lest France awaked, should rouse her from her dream, It is the hour of danger. I propose
And call aloud for vengeance. He, like Cæsar,

This sitting be made permanent.
With rapid step urged on his bold career,

[Loud applauses. Even to the summit of ambitious power,

COLLOT D'HERBOIS. And deem'd the name of King alone was wanting. The National Convention shall remain Was it for this we hurl'd proud Capet down?

Firm at its post.
Is it for this we wage eternal war

Enter a MESSENGER.
Against the tyrant horde of murderers,
The crown'd cockatrices whose foul venom
Infects all Europe ? was it then for this

Robespierre has reach'd the Commune. They espouse We swore to guard our liberty with life,

The tyrant's cause. St-Just is up in arms !
That Robespierre should reign ? the spirit of freedom St-Just—the young ambitious bold St-Just
Is not yet sunk so low. The glowing fame

Harangues the mob. The sanguinary Couthon That animates each honest Frenchman's heart

Thirsts for your blood. Not yet extinguish'd. I invoke thy shade,

[Tocsin mings. Immortal Brutus! I too wear a dagger; And if the representatives of France,

These tyrants are in arms against the law: Through fear or favor, should delay the sword

Outlaw the rebels.
Of justice, Tallien emulates thy virtues ;

Enter MERLIN OF DOUAY.
Tallien, like Brutus, lifts the avenging arm;
Tullien shall save his country.

[Violent applanser. Health to the representatives of France !

I past this moment through the armed force-
BILLAUD VARENNES.

They ask'd my name—and when they heard a delegate,
I demand
Swore I was not the friend of France.

MESSENGER.

TALLIEN.

MERLIN.

COLLOT D'HERBOIS.

To principles, not persons, spurti the idol The tyrants threaten us, as when they turn'd They worshipp'd once. Yes, Robespierre shall fall The cannon's mouth on Brissot.

As Capel fell! Oh! never let us deem

That France shall crouch beneath a tyrant's throne.
Enter another MESSENGER.

That the almighty people who have broke
SECOND MESSENGER.

On their oppressors' heads the oppressive chain, Vivier harangues the Jacobins—the club

Will court again their fetters! easier were it Espouse the cause of Robespierre.

To hurl the cloud-capt mountain from its base,

Than force the bonds of slavery upon men
Enter another MESSENGER.
Determined to be free!

[Applauses THIRD MESSENGER. All's lost—the tyrant triumphs. Henriot leads

Enter LEGENDRE, a pistol in one hand, keys in the The soldiers to his aid. Already I hear

other. The rattling cannon destined to surround This sacred hall.

LEGENDRE (flinging down the keys).

So let the mutinous Jacobins meet now
TALLIEN
Why, we will die like men then;

In the open air.
The representatives of France dare death,

(Loud applauses

A factious turbulent party When duty steels their bosoms.

[Loud applauses. Lording it o'er the state since Danton died,

And with him ihe Cordeliers.-A hireling band
TALLIEN (addre sing the galleries).

Of loud-tongued orators controllid the club,
Citizens !

And bade them bow the knee to Robespierre. France is insulted in her delegates

Vivier has 'scaped me. Curse his coward heart The majesty of the republic is insulted-

This fate-fraught tube of Justice in my hand, Tyrants are up in arms. An armed force

I rush'd into the hall. He mark d mine eye Threats the Convention. The Convention swears

That beam'd its patriot anger, and flash'd full To die, or save the country!

With death-denouncing meaning. 'Mid the throng [Violent applauses from the galleries. He mingled. I pursued--but slaid my hand, CITIZEN (from above).

Lest haply I might shed the innocent blood.
We too swear

[Applauses To die, or save the country. Follow me.

FRÉRON.
[All the men quit the galleries. They took from me my ticket of admission-

Expelld me from their sittings.—Now, forsooth,
Enter another MESSENGER.

Humbled and trembling re-insert my name ;

But Freron enters not the club again Henriot is taken

Till it be purged of guilt-till, purified

[Loud applauses. Of tyrants and of traitors, honest nien Henriot is taken. Three of your brave soldiers May breathe the air in safety. Swore they would seize the rebel slave of tyrants,

[Shouts from without Or perish in the attempt. As he patrollid

BARRERE. The streets of Paris, stirring up the mob,

What means this uproar ? if the tyrant band They seized him.

Should gain the people once again to rise-
[Applauses. We are as dead !

TALLIEN
Let the names of these brave men

And wherefore fear we death? Live to the future day.

Did Brutus fear it? or the Grecian friends
Enter BOURDON L'OISE, sword in hand.

Who buried in Hipparchus' breast the sword,

And died triumphant? Casar should fear death BOURDON L'OISE.

Brutus must scorn the bugbear. I have clear'd the Commune.

Shouts from without. Live the Convention-Dora [Applauses.

with the Tyrants! Through the throng I rushid, Brandishing my good sword to drench its blade

TALLIEN Deep in the tyrant's heart. The timid rebels

Hark! agair
Gave way. I met the soldiery--I spake

The sounds of honest Freedom !
Of the dictator's crimes--of patriots chain'd
In dark deep dungeons by his lawless rage-

Enter DEPUTIES from the SECTIONS.
Of knaves secure beneath his fostering power.
I spake of Liberty. Their honest hearts

Citizens! representatives of France ! Caught the warm lame. The general shout burst forth, Hold on your steady course. The men of Paris " Live the Convention-Down with Robespierre !" Espouse your cause. The men of Paris swear

(Applauses. They will defend the delegates of Freedom [Shouls from withoutDown with the Tyrant !

Hear ye this, Colleagues ? hear ye this, my brethren. I hear, I hear the soul-inspiring sounds,

And does no thrill of joy pervade your breasts ! France shall be saved! her generous sons, attached My bosom bounds to rapture. I have seen

FOURTH MESSENGER

BILLAUD VARENNES.

CITIZEN.

TALLIEN

TALLIEN.

BARRERE.

LECOINTRE.

The sons of France shake off the tyrant yoke ;

BARRERE (mounts the Tribune). I have, as much as lies in mine own arm,

For ever hallow'd be this glorious day, Hurl'd down the usurper.—Come death when it will, When Freedom, bursting her oppressive chain, I have lived long enough.

Tramples on the oppressor. When the tyrant, [Shouts without. Hurl'd from his blood-cemented throne by the arm

Of the almighty people, meets the death Jlark! how the noise increases ! through the gloom He plann'd for thousands. Oh! my sickening heart of the still evening-harbinger of death,

Has sunk within me, when the various woes Rings the tocsin! the dreadful generale

Of my brave country crowded o'er my brain Thunders through Paris

In ghastly numbers—when assembled hordes, [Cry withoutDown with the Tyrant! Dragg'd from their hovets by despotic power,

Rush'd o'er her frontiers, plunder'd her fair hamlets Enter LECOINTRE.

And sack'd her populous towns, and drench'd with

blood So may eternal justice blast the foes

The reeking fields of Flanders.-When within, Of France! so perish all the tyrant brood, Upon her vitals prey'd the rankling tooth As Robespierre has perishd! Citizens,

Of treason; and oppression, giant form, Cesar is taken.

Trampling on freedom, lett the alternative (Loud and repeated applauses. Of slavery, or of death. Even from that day, I marvel not, that with such fearless front,

When, on the guilty Capet, I pronounced He braved our vengeance, and with angry eye The door of injured France, has Faction rear'd Scould round the hall defiance. He relied

Her haied head amongst us. Roland preach'd On Henriot's aid—the Commune's villain friendship, of mercy—ihe uxorious dotard Roland, And Henriot's boughten succors. Ye have heard

The woman-govern'd Roland dursi aspiro How Henriot rescued him-how with open arms To govern France; and Petion talk'd of virtue, The Commune welcomed in the rebel tyrant And Vergniaud's eloquence, like the honey'd tongue How Fleuriot aided, and seditious Vivier

Of some soft Syren, wooed us to destruction. Stirr'd up the Jacobins. All had been lost

We triumph'd over these. On the same scaffold The representatives of France had perishd Where the last Louis ponr'd his guilty blood, Freedom had sunk beneath the tyrant arm

Fell Brissot's head, the womb of darksome treasons, of this foul parricide, but that her spirit

And Orleans, villain kinsman of the Capet, Inspired the men of Paris. Henriot callid

And Heberi's atheist crew, whose maddening hand " To arms” in vain, whilst Bourdon's patriot voice Hurl'd down the altars of the living God, Breathed eloquence, and o'er the Jacobins

With all the infidel's intolerance. Legendre frown'd dismay. The tyrants fled The last worst traitor triumph'd--triumph'd long, They reach'd the Hotel. We gather'd round-we Secured by matchless villany. By turns callid

Defending and deserting each accomplice, For vengeance! Long time, obstinate in despair,

As interest prompted. In the goodly soil With knives they hack'd around them. Till foreboding of Freedom, the foul tree of treason struck The sentence of the law, the clamorous cry

Its deep-fix'd roots, and dropt the dews of death Of joyful thousands hailing their destruction, On all who slumber'd in its specious shade. Each sought by suicide to escape the dread

lle wove the web of treachery. Ile canght of death. Lebas succeeded. From the window

The listening crowd by his wild eloquence, Leapt the younger Robespierre, but his fractured limb His cool ferocity, that persuaded murder

, Forbade to escape. The self-willid dictator

Even whilst it spake of mercy !-Never, never Plunged often the keen knife in his dark breast, Shall this regenerated country wear Yet impotent to die. He lives all mangled

The despot yoke. Though myriads round assail, By his own tremulous hand! All gash'd and gored, And with worse fury urge this new crusade He lives to taste the bitterness of Death.

Than savages have known; though the leagued Even now they meet their doom. The bloody Couthon,

despots The fierce St-Just, even now attend their tyrant Depopulate all Europe, so to pour To fall beneath the ax. I saw the torches

The accumulated mass upon our coasts, Flash on their visages a dreadful light

Sublime amid the storm shall France arise, I saw them whilst the black blood rollid adown And like the rock amid surrounding waves Each stern face, even then with dauntless eye

Repel the rushing ocean.-She shall wield Scowl round contemptuous, dying as they lived,

The thunderbolt of vengeance—she shall blast Fearless of fate!

The despot's pride, and liberate the world! [Loud and repeated applauses.

221

29

She listen'd with a fitting blush,
With downcast eyes, and modest grace,
And she forgave me, that I gazed

Too fondly on her face.

But when I told the cruel scorn
That crazed that bold and lovely Knight,
And that he cross'd the mountain-woods,

Nor rested day nor night;

That sometimes from the savage den, And sometimes from the darksome shade. And sometimes starting up at once

In green and sunny glade,

There came and look'd him in the face
An angel beautiful and bright;
And that he knew it was a Fiend,

This miserabie Knight!

And that, unknowing what he did,
He leap'd amid a murderous band,
And saved from outrage worse than death

The Lady of the Land!

And how she wept, and clasp'd his knees;
And how she tended him in vain-
And ever strove to expiate

The scorn that crazed his brain.

And that she nursed him in a cave; And how his madness went away, When on the yellow forest-leaves

A dying man he lay.

His dying words—but when I reach'd That tenderest strain of all the ditty, My faltering voice and pausing harp

Disturbed her soul with pity!

All impulses of soul and sense
Had thrill'd my guiltless Genevieve;
The music and the doleful tale,

The rich and balmy eve;
And hopes, and fears that kindle hope
An undistinguishable throng,
And gentle wishes long subdued,
Subdued and cherish'd long!

Miscellaneous Poems.

PROSE IN RHYME: OR EPIGRAMS, MORALITIES, AND THINGS WITHOUT A NAME

"Έρως αει λάληδρος έταιρος.

In many ways does the full heart reveal
The presence of the love it would conceal;
But in far more ib' estranged heart lets know
The absence of the love, which yet it fain would show.

LOVE.*

All thoughts, all passions, all delights,
Whatever stirs this mortal frame,
All are but ministers of Love,

And feed his sacred flame.

Oft in my waking drearos do I
Live o'er again that happy hour,
When midway on the mount I lay

Beside the ruin'd tower.

The moonshine, stealing o'er the scene,
Had blended with the lights of eve;
And she was there, my hope, my joy,

My own dear Genevieve!

She leant against the armed man,
The statue of the armed knight;
She stood and listen’d to my lay,

Amid the lingering light.

Few sorrows hath she of her own,
My hope! my joy! my Genevieve!
She loves me best, whene'er I sing

The songs that make her grieve.

I play'd a soft and doleful air,
I sang an old and moving story
An old rude song, that suited well

That ruin wild and hoary.

She listen'd with a fitting blush,
With downcast eyes and modest grace ;
For well she knew, I could not choose

But gaze upon her face.

I told her of the Knight that wore
Upon his shield a burning brand ;
And that for ten long years he wooed

The Lady of the Land.

I told her how he pined : and ah!
The deep, the low, the pleading tone
With which I sang another's love,

Interpreted my own.

alis picce may be found, as originally published, under anothor uitle, at page 23.

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Unchanged within to see all changed without,
is a blank lot and hard to bear, no doubt.
Yet why at others' warnings shouldst thou fret?
Then only mightst thou feel a just regret,
Hadst thou withheld thy love or hid thy light
In selfish forethought of neglect and slight.
0 wiselier then, from feeble yearnings freed,
While, and on whom, thou mayest—shine on! nor heed
Whether the object by reflected light
Return thy radiance or absorb it quite;
And though thou notest from thy safe recess
Old Friends burn dim, like lamps in noisome air,
Love them for what they are: nor love them less,
Because to thee they are not what they were.

PHANTOM OR FACT? a dialogue in vense.

Author.

A LovEly form there sate beside my bed,
And such a feeding calm its presence shed,
A tender love so pure from earthly leaven
That I unnethe the fancy might control,
Twas my own spirit newly come from heaven
Wooing its gentle way into my soul!
But ah! the change—It had not stirr'd, and yet—
Alas! that change how sain would I forget:
That shrinking back, like one that had mistook!

weary, wandering, disavowing Look! Twas all another, feature, look, and frame, And still, methought, I knew it was the same!

Friend. This riddling tale, to what does it belong? ls' history? vision? or an idle song?

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VERSE, a breeze 'mid blossoms straying,
Where Hope clung feeding, like a bee—
Both were mine! Life went a-maying
With Nature, Hope, and Poesy,
When I was young!
When I was young?—Ah, woful when 1
Ah for the change 'twixt now and then!
This breathing house not built with hands,
This body that does me grievous wrong,
O'er airy cliffs and glittering sands,
How lightly then it slash'd along:—
Like those trim skiffs, unknown of yore,
On winding lakes and rivers wide,
That ask no aid of sail or oar,
That fear no spite of wind or tide :
Nought cared this body for wind.or weather,
When Youth and I lived in't togethel

Flowers are lovely; Love is flower-like, - .
Friendship is a sheltering tree;
O the joys, that came down shower-like,
Of Friendship, Love, and Liberty,
Ere I was old !
Ere I was old Ah woful Ere,
Which tells me, Youth's no longer here!
O Youth! for years so many and sweet,
"Tis known, that thou and I were one,
I'll think it but a fond conceit–
It cannot be, that thou art gone!
Thy vesper-bell hath not yet toll'd :-
And thou wert aye a masker bold!
What strange disguise hast now put on.
To make believe that thou art gone?
I see these locks in silvery slips,

This drooping gait, this alter'd size: 223

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