mediately that he is used to commanding people. He hasn't enough to do in his own business, he must needs treat all humanity.
Hoche [following Marat with hit eyes, and with a mixture of pity and interest]. An honest man. The woes of humanity weigh heavy on his shoulders; they unhinge his reason and his judgment. He is sick with virtue.
Hulin. Where did you know him?
Hoche. I've read his books.
Hulin. You must have time to waste. Where did you get hold of them?
Hoche. I bought them with the money I received from these waistcoats—for which he reproached me.
Hulin [looking at him]. Let me see. What's the matter? Have you been fighting again?
Hoche. Yes.
Hulin. Barbarian! Where did you get that?
Hoche. In the Place Louis XV. I was walking past. The arrogance of those Germans, camping here in our own Paris, got on my nerves. I could not help laughing at them. They fell upon me in a body, but the people there got me away from them. I made a mess of one or two, however.
Hulin. Indeed! That will cost you dear.
Hoche. Bah! Do me a favor, Hulin. Read this letter for me.
Hulin. To whom is it addressed?
Hoche. To the King.
Hulin. Are you writing to the King?
Hoche. Why shouldn't I? He is a son of Adam,
