re they come, led on by Scarlotte--

GOUJON.

Scarlotte! A woman in form--a fury in nature!

POTIN.

Like my wife.

[_Cheers outside_.]

Good heavens! Worse and worse! Yonder comes Carrac--the king of
curs!--Damme! The devil himself is a saint compared with him.

GOUJON.

The beast!

POTIN.

The bloodiest beast of all--a tiger!

[_To_ SOLDIERS.]

Quick, form on this side [_Pointing to the left_.] and protect the
General.--This hog will want to eat him, before we can deliver him to
Kleber and get the credit of his capture.

[SOLDIERS _form in front of_ PAUL.

SCARLOTTE.

[_Outside_.]

This way, you fools!--Death to Rochejacquelein. Come on!

MOB.

[_Outside_.]

Death to Rochejacquelein!

SCARLOTTE.

[_Entering, followed by_ MOB.]

Rochejacquelein!--Rochejacquelein!--Where is Rochejacquelein?

MOB.

Down with Rochejacquelein! Down with Rochejacquelein!

BOURDOTTE.

[_Appearing_.]

Silence! Here comes Carrac, the great Carrac--representative of the
Republic--who never spares an enemy!

[_Comes down stage_.

POTIN.

And never makes a friend.

MOB.

Carrac!--Carrac!--Long live Carrac!

CARRAC _appears, followed by a second_ MOB, _and makes a gesture
commanding silence_.

CARRAC.

So--this is the ancestral hall of that cursed kin of kings, La
Rochejacquelein!--Ha! He's doubtless sneaking like a coward in some
safe corner of his den. Is the place surrounded?

BOURDOTTE.

On every side.

SCARLOTTE.

Good!--Tear his house about his ears!

CARRAC.

Aye--strip the old hawk's nest.

MOB.

Aye!--Aye!

[_The_ MOB _dismantle the house, with yells of exultation_.

SCARLOTTE.

[_Urging them on_.]

Heroes of Liberty!--demolish every trace of beauty in the place!

_Amid a scene of anarchic rage and turmoil, the room is stript stark_.

CARRAC.

Well done--noble levellers of the age!--Pull the boasted culture of
the nobility to the gutter.--Bravo!--We've demolished the old nest;
now to hunt the young hawk down!

MOB.

Aye!--Aye!

POTIN.

[_Waving the_ MOB _back_.]

Stop!--La Rochejacquelein is found!

SCARLOTTE.

Where is he?

POTIN.

There--our prisoner.

SCARLOTTE.

Drag him to the river!

MOB.

Aye--to the river!

POTIN.

Stand back!--He belongs to our battalion.

CARRAC.

What insolence is this? We demand his surrender here--to us.

POTIN.

We surrender him to none but our ow