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This sure may well be granted us-one sepulchre
Oct. Countess, you tremble, you turn pale !
You think More worthily of me, than to believe I would survive the downfall of my house. We did not hold ourselves too mean, to grasp After a monarch's crown—the crown did Fate Deny, but not the feeling and the spirit That to the crown belong! We deem a Courageous
us death more worthy of our free station Than a dishonour'd life.--I have taken poison.
Oct. Help! Help! Support her!
Nay, it is too late,
[Exit Countess. Gor. O house of death and horrors !
[An officer enters, and brings a letter with the
Gor. (steps forward and meets him). What is this? It is the Imperial seal.
[He reads the address and delivers the letter to
Octavio with a look of reproach, and with
an emphasis on the word. To the Prince Piccolomini. Oct, (with his whole
frame expressive of sudden anguish, raises his eyes to heaven.
The Curtain drops.
THE FALL OF ROBESPIERRE;
An Distortc Drama.
TO H. MARTIN, ESQ.
OF JESUS COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.
DEAR SIR, Accept, as a small testimony of my grateful attachment, the follow. ing 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 Justre 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 borrors.
S. T. COLBRIDGE.
THE FALL OF ROBESPIERRE.
SCENE, The Tuilleries.
Barrere. The tempest gathers—be it mine to seek A friendly shelter, ere it bursts upon
[Exit. Enter TALLIEN and LEGENDRE. Tal. It was Barrere, Legendre ! didst thou mark
him? Abrupt he turn'd, yet linger'd as he went, And towards us cast a look of doubtful meaning.
Leg. 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
notSuch agitation darken'd on his brow.
Tal. 'Twas all-distrusting guilt that kept from
Leg. Perfidious Traitor !-still afraid to bask
Tal. Yet much depends upon him-well you know
uproar what he plans in darkness. Leg. 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! murder'd 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 mean
ingsLeg. Fear not-or rather fear th' alternative, And seek for courage e'en in cowardice,
-hither he comes-- let us away! His brother with him, and the bloody Couthon, And high of haughty spirit, young St. Just.
Ereunt. Enter ROBESPIERRE, COUTHÓN, ST. Just, and
Cou. O we did wrong to spare them-fatal error !
St. Just. Rightly thou judgest, Couthou ! He is one, Who flies from silent solitary anguish,