[_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!
[_To_ MOB.]
Citizens, this devil here forced me to swear falsely against a
patriot.
BOURDOTTE.
When was this?
POTIN.
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.
DIANE.
Father! You hear? It is to him that we owe our agony!--One of your own
race.
POTIN.
Kauvar was his friend--this dog betrayed him!
NANETTE.
Yes, while he himself was all the time a Marquis in disguise.
PAUL.
He, my friend--a traitor!
CARRAC.
Death to the brigand!
MOB.
Death to him! To the river! Drown him!
[_They seize_ GOUROC.
GOUROC.
[_Breaking away from them_.]
Fiends--I defy you, and escape you!
[_Draws pistol, fires, and falls dead_.
BOURDOTTE.
[_Feeling_ GOUROC'S _breast_.
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