60
THE FOURTEENTH OF JULY
an army? They're all going to be massacred. There's no sense to it. [He follows the procession.]
Hoche. Where are you going?
Hulin. With them, of course.
Hoche. Old comrade, your instinct is better than your head.
Hulin. You see that, do you? Do you know where those blind people are going?
Hoche. Don't bother about understanding. They know: they see for you.
Hulin. Who?
Hoche. The blind. [The lugubrious roll of the drums is heard in the distance. The People march out slowly. Silence.]