her head and speaking with an air of conviction that causes the bystanders to smile]. Liberty.

MARAT. What would you do with it?

JULIE. Give it.

MARAT. To whom?

JULIE. To the poor people who are in prison.

MARAT. Where?

JULIE. There—in the big prison. They're alone all the time, and people forget them. [The attitude of the Crowd changes. It has become serious; some frown and do not look at their neighbors. They stare at the ground, and appear to be speaking to themselves.]

MARAT. How do you know that, little one?

JULIE. I know—I've been told. I often think about them, at night.

MARAT [smoothing her hair]. But you must sleep at night.

JULIE [after a few moments' pause, takes MARAT'S hands and says with passion], We will free them, won't we?

MARAT. But how?

JULIE. Go there all together.

THE CROWD [laughing]. Ha! It's so easy! [The Little Girl raises her eyes, and sees the circle of curious onlookers staring at her. She is frightened and hides her head in her arm, which rests on HULIN'S table.]

LA CONTAT. Isn't she dear!

MARAT [looking at her]. Holy virtue of childhood, pure spark of goodness, what a comfort you are! How dark would the world be without children's eyes! [He goes gravely toward the child, takes her hand, which hangs limp, and kisses her.]

A WOMAN OF THE PEOPLE [arriving on the scene]. Julie! Are you here! What are you doing with all these people?

DESMOULINS. She was addressing the crowd. [Laughter.]

THE MOTHER. And she so frightened! What's got into her? [She goes to JULIE, but the moment she touches her, the little one runs away without a word, in childish rage.]

THE CROWD [laughing and applauding]. Run away, little one! [Loud laughter is heard at the other end of the Garden.]—Come here! Come along!—What is it? They are ducking a countess!

LA CONTAT. Ducking a countess?

THE CROWD. She insulted the people! They're ducking her in the fountain!

LA CONTAT [on DESMOULINS' arm, laughing]. Let's run! How amusing!

DESMOULINS. The most amusing performance in Europe!

LA CONTAT. Insolent! What about the Comédie? [They go out laughing. The Crowd surges out. MARAT and HULIN are down-stage alone; MARAT stands, while HULIN sits at a cafe table. The back of the stage is crowded; some are standing on chairs, watching to see what is happening in the Garden. People walk about under the galleries beyond MARAT and HULIN.]

MARAT [pointing toward the Crowd]. Actors! They are not seeking liberty; they prefer plays! Today, when their very lives are in danger, they think of nothing but performing for each other. I want nothing to do with such people! Their insurrections are nothing but absurd antics. I don't want to see any more of them. Oh, to live shut up in a cave, hear nothing of the noise outside, to be free from the vileness of the world! [He sits down, his head between his hands.]

HULIN [tranquilly smoking, with a look of irony, says to MARAT]. Come, Monsieur Marat, you mustn't be discouraged. It's not worth it. They are only big children playing. You know them as well as I do: they don't mean anything by that. Why take it so tragically?

MARAT [raising his head, says with determination]. Who are you?

HULIN. I come from your country—Neuchâtel in Switzerland. Don't you remember me? I know you very well. I saw you when you were a child—at Boudry.

MARAT. So you are Hulin, Augustin Hulin?

HULIN. Right!

MARAT. What are you doing here? You were a clock-maker in Geneva.

HULIN. I led a quiet life there. But I was counting without my brother, who began to speculate. He became imbroiled in some underhanded scheme, signed certain papers—. Naturally, he took it into his head to die, and left his wife and a child of three for me to take care of. I sold my shop to pay his debts, and came to Paris, where I was taken into the service of the Marquis de Vintimille.

MARAT. Then I'm not surprised at your cowardly words. You are a servant.

HULIN. What if I am?

MARAT. Are you not ashamed to serve another man?

HULIN. I see no shame in it. Each of us serves, in one way or another. Are you not a doctor, Monsieur Marat? You spend your days examining people's wounds, and dressing them as well as you can. You go to bed very late, and you get up at night when your patients call you. Are you not then a servant?

MARAT. I serve no master: I serve humanity. But you are the valet of a corrupt man, a miserable aristocrat.

HULIN. I don't serve him because he is corrupt. You don't ask of your patients whether they are good or bad; they are men, poor devils like you and me. When they need help, you must give it and not stop to consider. Like many another, my master is corrupted by wealth. He cannot help himself: he needs a score of people to serve him. Now, I have three times as much strength as I need, and I don't know what use to make of it. Occasionally, I feel I would like to break something just to ease my feelings. If that idiot needs my power, I am willing to sell it to him. We are then quits. I do him good, and myself, too.

MARAT. You also sell him your free soul, your conscience.

HULIN. Who says anything about that? I defy any one to take that from me.

MARAT. And yet you submit. You don't tell all you think.

HULIN. What need I say? I know what I think. It's all very well for those who don't know to cry it aloud from the house-tops! I don't think for others; I think for myself.

MARAT. Nothing that is in you belongs to you. You do not belong to yourself; you are a part of every one. You owe your strength to others, your will-power, your intelligence—no matter how little you possess.

HULIN. Will-power and intelligence are not currency that one may give. Work done for others is work ill done. I have made myself free. Let the others do likewise!

MARAT. There, in those words, I recognize my odious compatriots! Simply because Nature has given them six feet of body and the muscles of an animal, they think they have a right to despise those who are weak and ill. And when after they have reaped their harvests and worked in their fields, they sit down satisfied before their own doors, smoking a vile pipe the nasty smoke of which calms their tiny consciences, they think they have done their duty, and tell their less fortunate brothers who ask for help to "go and do likewise."

HULIN [quietly]. How well you know