ignoble political ideals—he tries to please all parties in order to use them for his own ends—it all brings dishonor upon the Republic. Danton must be laid low.
Robespierre. His fall will carry the imprudent Desmoulins along with him.
Saint-Just. That impudent pen-pusher! Why, the sufferings of the Patrie are merely an excuse for him to do a clever piece of writing! He's a dilettante, who would sacrifice Liberty for a pretty antithesis!
Robespierre. A child, the dupe of his friends, and of his own mind.
Saint-Just. Cleverness is also a crime, when France is in danger. The misfortunes of the State have thrown a sad, a religious air, over everything. I am suspicious of all who laugh.
Robespierre. But I love Desmoulins.
Saint-Just. And I love you, but if you were a criminal, I would accuse you.
Robespierre [walks away, distressed. He returns after a moment's silence]. Thank you.—You are happy; you never hesitate. You never compromise with evil.
Saint-Just. I have seen more evil than you.
Robespierre. Where?
Saint-Just. Within myself.
Robespierre [surprised]. In yourself, you whose life is an example of self-sacrifice?
Saint-Just. You don't know!
Robespierre [incredulously]. Some—youthful slip?
Saint-Just [seriously]. I have been to the brink
