17/18 I see thee every day,--I am with thee every day. At each hour my arm rises against thy breast. Wretch! live yet awhile, though but for few and miserable days--live to think of me; sleep to dream of me! Thy terror and thy thought of me are the heralds of thy doom. Adieu! this day itself I go forth to riot on thy fears!" (See "Papiers inedits trouves chez Robespierre," etc., volume ii. |