The voice cried: "The people of Paris are right. We want no queen!
And more than all other things, no mistress! Only slaves acknowledge
masters over them. If the Dugazont ventures to sing again, 'I love
my queen, I love my mistress,' she will be punished as slaves are
punished--that is, she will be flogged!"
"Bravo, Marat, bravo!" roared Santerre, with his savage rabble.
"Bravo, Marat, bravo!" cried his friends in the boxes; "she shall be
flogged!"
Marat bowed on all sides, and turned his eyes, gleaming with scorn
and hatred, toward the royal box, and menaced it with his clinched
fists.
"But not alone shall the singer be flogged," cried he, with a voice
louder and sharper than before--"no, not alone shall the singer be
flogged, but greater punishment have they deserved who urge on to
such deeds. If the Austrian woman comes here again to turn the heads
of sympathizing souls with her martyr looks, if she undertakes again
to move us with her tears and her face, we will serve her as she
deserves, we will go whip in hand into her box!" [Footnote:
Goneourt's "Histoire de Marie Antoinette," p. 365.]
The queen rose from her chair like an exasperated lioness, and
advanced to the front of the box. Standing erect, with flaming looks
of anger, with cheeks like purple, she confronted them there--the
true heir of the Caesars, the courageous daughter of Maria Theresa--
and had already opened her lips to speak and overwhelm the traitor
with her wrath, when another voice was heard giving answer to Marat.
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