"Perry, Anne - The One Thing More" - читать интересную книгу автора (Perry Anne)been born to poverty, but since her father's collapse she had certainly
become acquainted with it. She had worked to survive, like any of the labourers and artisans who had suffered generations of oppression, out of which finally had been brought forth this night. The next deputy who stood in the pool of light had the bloodless face of an albino id his eyes were pink-tinged, his lashes and brows invisible: Joseph Fouche, the deputy from Nantes in Brittany. Yesterday he had promised to fight for the King's life. Now he said the single, dry word" Death Celie shivered. They had been voting for hours. Hardly anyone had spoken for life, or even incarceration of all the royal family until the last of them should die of old age. Maybe she did not really need to stay any longer. The outcome was already certain. One violence had followed another since the storming of the Bastille three and a half years ago in 1789. Now they almost expected it. The streets were full of frightened people, most of them cold and hungry. The fury of centuries had exploded, destroying everything in its path. Wasn't that what Marat had said "I am the rage of the people'? The thought of him was cold inside her. Celie had only seen him once but, like everyone else, she knew his power. He ruled the Commune, and and slaughterhouses of the Faubourg St-Antoine, and out into the suburbs beyond and on every side. There was a buzz of excitement around her, a shifting of position, a craning forward as the giant figure of Georges-Jacques Danton climbed the rostrum to cast his vote. He had returned from the war in Belgium only yesterday. There were rumours that he would plead mercy for the King. Could that be true? Celie watched as he moved into the light. His head and shoulders were bull-like, his face scarred by pox. His vitality filled the room. She could feel it like the charge of electricity before a storm. The surreptitious coughing and shuffling stopped. Everyone's eyes were on Danton. The candles flickered, yellow light making a gargoyle of his head. "Death," he said simply. A sigh of relief rippled through the room. Someone let out a little cry. Several people shifted as if a tension had been broken at last. They had passed some invisible point of no return. If Danton said "Death', it must be right. |
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