He owes it to himself to punish those who are not docile, to re-arrest absolved delinquents, and to support cruelty with cruelty.
When for a long time someone has been imbibing a strong and nauseating drink, not only does the palate get accustomed, but it often acquires a taste for it; it soon wants to have it stronger; finally, it swallows it pure, completely raw, with no admixture or condiment to disguise its repulsiveness--Such, to certain imaginations, is the spectacle of human gore; after getting accustomed to it they take delight in seeing it.
Lequinio, Laignelot and Lebon invite the executioner to dine with them;[32157] Monestier, "with his cut-throats, is going himself in search of prisoners in the dungeons, so that he may accompany them to the Tribunal and overwhelm them with charges, if they are disposed to defend themselves; after their condemnation, he attends in uniform" at their execution.[32158] Fouche, lorgnette in hand, looks out of his window upon a butchery of two hundred and ten Lyonnese.

Collot, Laporte and Fouche feast together in a large company on the days when executions by shooting takes place, and, at each discharge, stand up and cheer lustily, waving their hats.[32159] At Toulon, Freron, in person, orders and sees executed, the first grand massacre on the Champ de Mars.[32160]--On the Place d'Arras, M.de Vielfort, already tied and stretched out on the plank, awaits the fall of the knife.

Lebon appears on the balcony of the theatre, makes a sign to the executioner to stop, opens the newspaper, and, in a loud voice, reads off the recent successes of the French armies; then, turning to the condemned man, exclaims: "Go, wretch, and take the news of our victories to your brethren."[32161] At Feurs, where the shootings take place at the house of M.du Rosier, in the great avenue of the park, his daughter, quite a young woman, advances in tears to Javogues, and asks for the release of her husband.

"Oh, yes, my dear," replies Javogues, "you shall have him home to-morrow." In effect, the next day, her husband is shot, and buried in the avenue.[32162]--It is evident that they get to liking the business.

Like their September predecessors, they find amusement in murdering: people around them allude gaily to "the red theater" and "the national razor." An aristocrat is said to be "putting his head at the national window," and "he has put his head through the cathole."[32163] They themselves have the style and humor of their trade.