My God!—We’re lost!
So—the prisoner is the beauty’s cousin.
Traitor! You have lied!—This convicts you all.
To the guillotine!—To the guillotine!
No! A marriage! A Republican marriage!
Aye! A marriage! marriage!
[BOURDOTTE drags forth NANETTE.
What are you going to do?
Tie you to this man and throw you in the river.—That’s the way we marry Royalists!
[The MOB laugh mockingly.
Damnation!—Tongue or no tongue, I must save her.
[Bounds forward and frees his wife.]
[Joyfully embracing POTIN.]
What does this mean?
This is my wife; the wife of a soldier of the Republic, and so, sacred to her country.
[Pointing to GOUROC.]
Do what you like with him—for such cattle as he deserve to die!
[GOUROC turns and glowers.]
Glare! Who cares? I’m a soldier. ’Tis my turn now!—You shall pay dearly for making me a perjurer!
Citizens, this devil here forced me to swear falsely against a patriot.
When was this?
Three months ago in Paris.—I was secretary to my Section.—This man had a blank warrant signed by our president, Paul Kauvar.—He made me fill it in with the name of the Duc de Beaumont—and, after, falsely swear that Kauvar had ordered the arrest.
[Cries of execration from the MOB.
Father! You hear? It is to him that we owe our agony!—One of your own race.