Page:Works of Thomas Carlyle - Volume 04.djvu/277

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APRIL 10, 1794]
Germ. 21]
DANTON, NO WEAKNESS
259

done? Salut Public rapidly concocts a new Decree; whereby if men 'insult Justice,' they may be 'thrown out of the Debates.' For indeed, withal, is there not 'a Plot in the Luxembourg Prison'? Ci-devant General Dillon, and others of the Suspect, plotting with Camille's Wife to distribute assignats; to force the Prisons, overset the Republic? Citizen Laflotte, himself Suspect but desiring enfranchisement, has reported said Plot for us:—a report that may bear fruit! Enough, on the morrow morning, an obedient Convention passes this Decree. Salut rushes off with it to the aid of Tinville, reduced now almost to extremities. And so, Hors de Débats, Out of the Debates, ye insolents! Policemen, do your duty! In such manner, with a dead-lift effort Salut, Tinville, Herman, Leroi Dix-Août, and all stanch jurymen setting heart and shoulder to it, the Jury becomes 'sufficiently instructed'; Sentence is passed, is sent by an Official, and torn and trampled on: Death this day. It is the 5th of April 1794. Camille's poor Wife may cease hovering about this Prison. Nay let her kiss her poor children; and prepare to enter it, and to follow!—

Danton carried a high look in the Death-cart. Not so Camille: it is but one week, and all is so topsyturvied; angel Wife left weeping; love, riches, revolutionary fame, left all at the Prison-gate; carnivorous Rabble now howling round. Palpable, and yet incredible; like a madman's dream! Camille struggles and writhes; his shoulders shuffle the loose coat off them, which hangs knotted, the hands tied: 'Calm, my friend,' said Danton; 'heed not that vile canaille (laissez là cette vile canaille).' At the foot of the Scaffold, Danton was heard to ejaculate: 'O my Wife, my well-beloved, I shall never see thee more, then!'—but, interrupting himself: 'Danton, no weakness!' He said to Hérault-Séchelles stepping forward to embrace him: 'Our heads will meet there,' in the Headsman's sack. His last words were to Samson the Headsman himself: 'Thou wilt show my head to the people; it is worth showing.'

So passes, like a gigantic mass of valour, ostentation, fury,