DEDICATION.

TO H. MARTIN, ESQ.

DEAR SIR,

OF JESUS COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.

ACCEPT, as a small testimony of my grateful attachment, the following Dramatic Poem, in which I have endeavoured to detail, in an interesting form, the fall of a man, whose great bad actions have cast a disastrous lustre on his name. In the execution of the work, as intricacy of plot could not have been attempted without a gross violation of recent facts, it has been my sole aim to imitate the impassioned and highly figurative language of the French Orators, and to develop the characters of the chief actors on a vast stage of horrors. Yours fraternally,

S. T. COLERidge.

JESUS COLLEGE, September 22, 1794.

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

ROBESPIERRE.

BARRERE.

TALLIEN.

LEGENDRE.

ROBESPIERRE JUNIOR.

COUTHON.

ST-JUST.

BILLAUD VARENNES.

BOURDON L'OISE.

COLLOT D'HERBOIS.

DUBOIS CRANCÉ.

FRERON.

LECOINTRE.

MERLIN OF DOUOY.

DEPUTIES.

MESSENGERS.

CITIZENS.

ADELAIDE.

THE FALL OF ROBESPIERRE.

ACT I.

SCENE-The Tuilleries.

Bar. The tempest gathers-be it mine to seek
A friendly shelter, ere it bursts upon him.
But where? and how? I fear the tyrant's soul—
Sudden in action, fertile in resource,

And rising awful 'mid impending ruins;
In splendour gloomy, as the midnight meteor,
That fearless thwarts the elemental war.
When last in secret conference we met,
He scowl'd upon me with suspicious rage,
Making his eye the inmate of my bosom.

I know he scorns me-and I feel, I hate him—
Yet there is in him that which makes me tremble!

Enter Tallien and Legendre.

[Exit.

Tal. It was Barrere, Legendre! didst thou mark

him?

Abrupt he turned, yet linger'd as he went,

And towards us cast a look of doubtful meaning. Legen. I mark'd him well. I met his eye's last glance;

It menaced not so proudly as of yore.

Methought he would have spoke-but that he dared

not

Such agitation darken'd on his brow.

Tal. "Twas all-distrusting guilt that kept from bursting

Th' imprison'd secret struggling in the face;
E'en as the sudden breeze upstarting onwards
Hurries the thunder-cloud, that poised awhile
Hung in mid air, red with its mutinous burthen.
Legen. Perfidious traitor!—still afraid to bask
In the full blaze of power, the rustling serpent
Lurks in the thicket of the tyrant's greatness,
Ever prepared to sting who shelters him.
Each thought, each action in himself converges;
And love and friendship on his coward heart
Shine like the powerless sun on polar ice:
To all attach'd, by turns deserting all,
Cunning and dark—a necessary villain!

Tal. Yet much depends upon him-well you know

With plausible harangue 'tis his to paint

Defeat like victory-and blind the mob

With truth-mix'd falsehood. They, led on by him,
And wild of head to work their own destruction,
Support with uproar what he plans in darkness.

Legen. O what a precious name is Liberty
To scare or cheat the simple into slaves!
Yes we must gain him over: by dark hints
We'll show enough to rouse his watchful fears,
Till the cold coward blaze a patriot.

O Danton! murdered friend! assist my counsels-
Hover around me on sad memory's wings,

And pour thy daring vengeance in my heart.
Tallien! if but to-morrow's fateful sun

Beholds the tyrant living—we are dead!

Tal. Yet his keen eye that flashes mighty meanings

Legen. Fear not-or rather fear th' alternative, And seek for courage e'en in cowardiceBut see-hither he comes-let us away! His brother with him, and the bloody Couthon, And high of haughty spirit, young St-Just.

[Exeunt. Enter Robespierre, Couthon, St-Just, and Robespierre Junior.

Robesp. What! did La Fayette fall before my power?

And did I conquer Roland's spotless virtues?
The fervent eloquence of Vergniaud's tongue ?
And Brissot's thoughtful soul unbribed and bold?
Did zealot armies haste in vain to save them?
What! did th' assassin's dagger aim its point
Vain, as a dream of murder, at my bosom?
And shall I dread the soft luxurious Tallien ?
Th' Adonis Tallien? banquet-hunting Tallien ?
Him, whose heart flutters at the dice-box? him,
Who ever on the harlots' downy pillow
Resigns his head impure to feverish slumbers!

St-Just. I cannot fear him-yet we must not scorn him.