"Marat, it was in this public-house that you invited three men from Marseilles to breakfast with you."
"Robespierre, you have a strong marketman, armed with a cudgel, to escort you."
"And you, Marat, the day before the tenth of August, you asked Buzot to help you escape to Marseilles, disguised as a jockey."
"In September when the courts were in session, you hid yourself, Robespierre."
"And you, Marat, you displayed yourself."
"Robespierre, you flung the red cap on the ground."
"Yes, when a traitor hung it up. What adorns Dumouriez, defiles Robespierre."
"Robespierre, you refused to veil Louis XVI.'s head, while the soldiers were passing by."
"I did better than to veil his head, I cut it off."
Danton interfered, but as oil interferes in fire.
"Robespierre, Marat, calm yourselves."
Marat did not like to be named second. He turned round.
"Why does Danton meddle in this?" he said.
"Why do I meddle? For this reason. To prevent fratricide; to prevent a quarrel between two men who serve the people; because there is enough foreign war, because there is enough civil war, and because there will be too much domestic war; because it was I who brought about the Revolution, and I do not want it spoiled. That is why I am meddling."
Marat replied without raising his voice,—
"You had better meddle with making your accounts."
"My accounts!" exclaimed Danton. "Go ask for them in the defiles of Argonne, in Champagne delivered, in conquered Belgium, in the armies where I have already four times exposed my breast to bullets! Go ask for them in the Place de la Révolution, on the scaffold of the twenty-first of January, on the throne abolished, on the guillotine, that widow——"
Marat interrupted Danton.
"The guillotine is a virgin; men lie with her, but she does not become fruitful."
"What do you know about it, Danton? I would make her pregnant!"
"We shall see," said Marat.
