from sheer joy of living. Fair Republic of Aspasia and the charming Alcibiades—what has become of you? What are you now? You wear a red cap, a dirty shirt; you have a hoarse voice, the fixed ideas of a maniac, the pedantic manner of a school-master!
Hérault. You are an Athenian among barbarians—Ovid among the Scythians. You will never reform them.
Camille. I shall at least try.
Hérault. You are wasting your time—perhaps your life.
Camille. What have I to fear?
Hérault. Beware of Robespierre.
Camille. I have known him since we were children: a friend may say anything.
Hérault. A disagreeable truth is more easily forgiven by an enemy than a friend.
Lucile. Stop! He must be a great man and save the Patrie. Whoever doesn't agree with me, will have none of my chocolate.
Hérault [smiling]. I'll not say another word. [Lucile goes out.]
Philippeaux. So you have decided to go ahead, Desmoulins?
Camille. Yes.
Philippeaux. No truce, then! Press on, drive your quill without mercy. The worst danger lies in this skirmishing warfare you are carrying on. You are satisfied merely to goad them with your arrows; that only gives them more power against you. Aim at
