zanoni-第66章
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France。 Read thy sentence! I await the hour when the people
shall knell thee to the doomsman。 If my hope deceive me; if
deferred too long;hearken; read! This hand; which thine eyes
shall search in vain to discover; shall pierce thy heart。 I see
thee every day;I am with thee every day。 At each hour my arm
rises against thy breast。 Wretch! live yet awhile; though but
for few and miserable dayslive to think of me; sleep to dream
of me! Thy terror and thy thought of me are the heralds of thy
doom。 Adieu! this day itself I go forth to riot on thy fears!〃
(See 〃Papiers inedits trouves chez Robespierre;〃 etc。; volume ii。
page 155。 (No。 lx。))
〃Your lists are not full enough!〃 said the tyrant; with a hollow
voice; as the paper dropped from his trembling hand。 〃Give them
to me!give them to me! Think again; think again! Barrere is
rightright! 'Frappons! il n'y a que les morts qui ne revient
pas!'〃
CHAPTER 7。II。
La haine; dans ces lieux; n'a qu'un glaive assassin。
Elle marche dans l'ombre。
La Harpe; 〃Jeanne de Naples;〃 Act iv。 sc。 1。
(Hate; in these regions; has but the sword of the assassin。 She
moves in the shade。)
While such the designs and fears of Maximilien Robespierre;
common danger; common hatred; whatever was yet left of mercy or
of virtue in the agents of the Revolution; served to unite
strange opposites in hostility to the universal death…dealer。
There was; indeed; an actual conspiracy at work against him among
men little less bespattered than himself with innocent blood。
But that conspiracy would have been idle of itself; despite the
abilities of Tallien and Barras (the only men whom it comprised;
worthy; by foresight and energy; the names of 〃leaders〃)。 The
sure and destroying elements that gathered round the tyrant were
Time and Nature; the one; which he no longer suited; the other;
which he had outraged and stirred up in the human breast。 The
most atrocious party of the Revolution; the followers of Hebert;
gone to his last account; the butcher…atheists; who; in
desecrating heaven and earth; still arrogated inviolable sanctity
to themselves; were equally enraged at the execution of their
filthy chief; and the proclamation of a Supreme Being。 The
populace; brutal as it had been; started as from a dream of
blood; when their huge idol; Danton; no longer filled the stage
of terror; rendering crime popular by that combination of
careless frankness and eloquent energy which endears their heroes
to the herd。 The glaive of the guillotine had turned against
THEMSELVES。 They had yelled and shouted; and sung and danced;
when the venerable age; or the gallant youth; of aristocracy or
letters; passed by their streets in the dismal tumbrils; but they
shut up their shops; and murmured to each other; when their own
order was invaded; and tailors and cobblers; and journeymen and
labourers; were huddled off to the embraces of the 〃Holy Mother
Guillotine;〃 with as little ceremony as if they had been the
Montmorencies or the La Tremouilles; the Malesherbes or the
Lavoisiers。 〃At this time;〃 said Couthon; justly; 〃Les ombres de
Danton; d'Hebert; de Chaumette; se promenent parmi nous!〃 (The
shades of Danton; Hebert; and Chaumette walk amongst us。)
Among those who had shared the doctrines; and who now dreaded the
fate of the atheist Hebert; was the painter; Jean Nicot。
Mortified and enraged to find that; by the death of his patron;
his career was closed; and that; in the zenith of the Revolution
for which he had laboured; he was lurking in caves and cellars;
more poor; more obscure; more despicable than he had been at the
commencement;not daring to exercise even his art; and fearful
every hour that his name would swell the lists of the condemned;
he was naturally one of the bitterest enemies of Robespierre
and his government。 He held secret meetings with Collot
d'Herbois; who was animated by the same spirit; and with the
creeping and furtive craft that characterised his abilities; he
contrived; undetected; to disseminate tracts and invectives
against the Dictator; and to prepare; amidst 〃the poor and
virtuous people;〃 the train for the grand explosion。 But still
so firm to the eyes; even of profounder politicians than Jean
Nicot; appeared the sullen power of the incorruptible Maximilien;
so timorous was the movement against him;that Nicot; in common
with many others; placed his hopes rather in the dagger of the
assassin than the revolt of the multitude。 But Nicot; though not
actually a coward; shrunk himself from braving the fate of the
martyr; he had sense enough to see that; though all parties might
rejoice in the assassination; all parties would probably concur
in beheading the assassin。 He had not the virtue to become a
Brutus。 His object was to inspire a proxy…Brutus; and in the
centre of that inflammable population this was no improbable
hope。
Amongst those loudest and sternest against the reign of blood;
amongst those most disenchanted of the Revolution; amongst those
most appalled by its excesses;was; as might be expected; the
Englishman; Clarence Glyndon。 The wit and accomplishments; the
uncertain virtues that had lighted with fitful gleams the mind of
Camille Desmoulins; had fascinated Glyndon more than the
qualities of any other agent in the Revolution。 And when (for
Camille Desmoulins had a heart; which seemed dead or dormant in
most of his contemporaries) that vivid child of genius and of
error; shocked at the massacre of the Girondins; and repentant of
his own efforts against them; began to rouse the serpent malice
of Robespierre by new doctrines of mercy and toleration; Glyndon
espoused his views with his whole strength and soul。 Camille
Desmoulins perished; and Glyndon; hopeless at once of his own
life and the cause of humanity; from that time sought only the
occasion of flight from the devouring Golgotha。 He had two lives
to heed besides his own; for them he trembled; and for them he
schemed and plotted the means of escape。 Though Glyndon hated
the principles; the party (None were more opposed to the
Hebertists than Camille Desmoulins and his friends。 It is
curious and amusing to see these leaders of the mob; calling the
mob 〃the people〃 one day; and the 〃canaille〃 the next; according
as it suits them。 〃I know;〃 says Camille; 〃that they (the
Hebertists) have all the canaille with them。〃(Ils ont toute la
canaille pour eux。)); and the vices of Nicot; he yet extended to
the painter's penury the means of subsistence; and Jean Nicot; in
return; designed to exalt Glyndon to that very immortality of a
Brutus from which he modestly recoiled himself。 He founded his
designs on the physical courage; on the wild and unsettled
fancies of the English artist; and on the vehement hate and
indignant loathing with which he openly regarded the government
of Maximilien。
At the same hour; on the same day in July; in which Robespierre
conferred (as we have seen) with his allies; two persons were
seated in a small room in one of the streets leading out of the
Rue St。 Honore; the one; a man; appeared listening impatiently;
and with a sullen brow; to his companion; a woman of singular
beauty; but with a bold and reckless expression; and her face as
she spoke was animated by the passions of a half…savage and
vehement nature。
〃Englishman;〃 said the woman; 〃beware!you know that; whether in
flight or at the place of death; I would brave all to be by your
side;you know THAT! Speak!〃
〃Well; Fillide; did I ever doubt your fidelity?〃
〃Doubt it you cannot; betray it you may。 You tell me that in
flight you must have a companion besides myself; and that
companion is a female。 It shall not be!〃
〃Shall not!〃
〃It shall not!〃 repeated Fillide; firmly; and folding her arms
across her breast。 Before Glyndon could reply; a slight knock at
the door was heard; and Nicot opened the latch and entered。
Fillide sank into her chair; and; leaning her face on her hands;
appeared unheeding of the intruder and the conversation that
ensued。
〃I cannot bid thee good…day; Glyndon;〃 said Nicot; as in his
sans…culotte fashion he strode towards the artist; his ragged hat
on his head; his hands in his pockets; and the beard of a week's
growth upon his chin;〃I cannot bid thee good…day; for while the
tyrant lives; evil is every sun that sheds its beams on France。〃
〃It is true; what then? We have sown the wind; we must reap the
whirlwind。〃
〃And yet;〃 said Nicot; apparently not heeding the reply; and as
if musingly to himself; 〃it is strange to think that the butcher
is as mortal as the butchered; that his life hangs on as slight a
thread; that between the cuticle and the heart there is as short
a passage;that; in short; one blow can free France and redeem
mankind!〃
Glyndon surveyed the speaker with a careless and haughty scorn;
and made no answer。
〃And;〃 proceeded Nicot; 〃I have sometimes looked round for the
man born for this destiny; and whenever I have done so; my steps
have led me hither!〃
〃Should they not rather have led thee to the side of Maximilien
Robespierre?〃 said Glyndon; with a sneer。
〃No;〃 returned Nicot; coldly;〃no; for I am a 'suspect:' I
could not mix with his train; I could not approach within a
hundred yards of his person; but I should be seized; YOU; as yet;
are safe。 Hear me!〃and his voice became earnest and
expressive;〃hear me! There seems danger in this action; there
is none。 I have been with Collot d'Herbois and Bilaud…Varennes;
they will hold him harmless who strikes the blow; the populace
would run to thy support; the Convention would hail thee as their
deliverer; the〃
〃Hold; man! How darest thou couple my name with the act of an
assassin? Let the tocsin sound from yonder tower; to a war
between Humanity and the Tyrant; and I will not be the last in
the field; but liberty never yet acknowledged a defender in a
felon。〃
There was something so brave and noble in Glyndon's voice; mien;
and manner; as he thus spoke; that Nicot at once was silenced; at
once he saw that he had misjudged the man。
〃No;〃 said Fillide; lifting her face from her hands;〃no! your
friend has a wiser scheme in preparation; he would leave you
wolves to mangle each other。 He is right; but〃
〃Flight!〃 exclaimed Nicot; 〃is it possible? Flight; how?when?
by what means? All France begirt with spies and guards!
Flight! would to Heaven it were in our power!〃
〃Dost thou; too; desire to escape the blessed Revolution?〃
〃Desire! Oh!〃 cried Nicot; suddenly; and; falling down; he
clasped Glyndon's knees;〃oh; save me with thyself! My life is
a torture; every moment the guillotine frowns before me。 I know
that my hours are numbered; I know that the tyrant waits but his
time to write my name in his inexorable list; I know that Rene
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