CHAPTER 1.3.V.
Lomenie's Thunderbolts.
Arise, Lomenie-Brienne: here is no case for 'Letters of Jussion;' for faltering or compromise.

Thou seest the whole loose fluent population of Paris (whatsoever is not solid, and fixed to work) inundating these outer courts, like a loud destructive deluge; the very Basoche of Lawyers' Clerks talks sedition.

The lower classes, in this duel of Authority with Authority, Greek throttling Greek, have ceased to respect the City-Watch: Police-satellites are marked on the back with chalk (the M signifies mouchard, spy); they are hustled, hunted like ferae naturae.
Subordinate rural Tribunals send messengers of congratulation, of adherence.

Their Fountain of Justice is becoming a Fountain of Revolt.
The Provincial Parlements look on, with intent eye, with breathless wishes, while their elder sister of Paris does battle: the whole Twelve are of one blood and temper; the victory of one is that of all.
Ever worse it grows: on the 10th of August, there is 'Plainte' emitted touching the 'prodigalities of Calonne,' and permission to 'proceed' against him.

No registering, but instead of it, denouncing: of dilapidation, peculation; and ever the burden of the song, States-General! Have the royal armories no thunderbolt, that thou couldst, O Lomenie, with red right-hand, launch it among these Demosthenic theatrical thunder-barrels, mere resin and noise for most part;--and shatter, and smite them silent?
On the night of the 14th of August, Lomenie launches his thunderbolt, or handful of them.