Almost at the same time, in the not-so-distant Palace of Versailles, King Louis XVI was discussing a similar topic with his queen.
"Your Majesty, did you know that people are openly calling for rebellion?" His queen, Marie Antoinette, asked, her beautiful eyes wide as she stared at her husband.
"When has there been a day at the Palais-Royal when no one called for rebellion?" Louis XVI replied dismissively.
Queen Marie glared at her husband, then said, "Mr. Lavoisier's nephew has actually become a rebel! At the Palais-Royal, he put on a play inciting rebellion, spreading calls for revolt! And that song in it isn't merely advocating rebellion; it's even blasphemous. Don't you intend to do anything about it?"
"What do you expect me to do? Ban the performance and have them all arrested?" Louis XVI retorted. "All of Paris is in chaos now, and rumors are everywhere. If we do that, it could easily spark a real riot."
"Is the situation now not already a real riot?" Queen Marie asked, utterly unmoved.
"At least they haven't taken up arms and marched on Versailles," Louis XVI replied.
"You're the king! How can you say such a thing?" Queen Marie was enraged by her husband's weak response.
"Queen, we have to face reality." Louis XVI lowered his head, seeming somewhat ashamed of his predicament. "The police force in Paris has more or less collapsed, and because of financial troubles, the army hasn't been paid in a long time. They're just as dissatisfied with the kingdom, so they've become unreliable too. Besides, for a long time, the troops near Paris have been infiltrated by those who oppose us. We can't count on them now. If anything happens, who knows where their guns will be pointing? The troops in the provinces are a little more reliable. What can we use to suppress these rebels?"
"What about the mercenaries? The Swiss, the Germans? We pay them—does that mean they won't do their jobs? And don't we have more reliable troops in the provinces?"
"The mercenaries, and the more reliable troops, aren't all in place yet. For now, they can only protect us. They aren't enough to restore order."
"How much longer until they're all in place?"
"It's hard to say. First, we need money. Second, we can't move too quickly, or we'll only urge them to rebel. If they really make a move, our current forces won't be able to hold them off." Louis XVI spoke with considerable hesitation.
"So, if we stay in Paris, we'll end up as hostages?" the queen asked.
"Not quite, but our forces here don't have the upper hand." Louis XVI sighed.
"Then why are we still here? Why not go somewhere our forces do have the upper hand? We could go to the provinces, where we have the advantage. Why stay here?"
"Because if we leave, it will mean civil war is certain to break out," Louis XVI said, troubled. "Even if we win in the end, our country will already have been ravaged by civil war. So, to prevent civil war—or at least a devastating one—we have to stay in Versailles for now."
"But what can we actually do by staying in Versailles?" Queen Marie asked.
"First, keep them calm, then slowly bring our forces over," Louis XVI said. "We have to lull them into complacency. We can't let them despair right away. Not until our forces have gathered and gained the advantage."
"Perhaps..." the queen said. "Perhaps, if anything happens, I could get in touch with my family."
"It hasn't come to that yet. There's no need for now," Louis XVI said. "Even your normal correspondence with your family needs to be handled carefully. Don't increase it or decrease it."
"This is absurd!" the queen exclaimed. "Are they going to inspect our letters now?"
"That's not what I mean. But anyone keeping an eye on things will notice every messenger who leaves Versailles. Then rumors could start."
"Rumors," Queen Marie said with a cold laugh. "Can rumors really be dispelled by acting like this? No. Rumors don't need any basis in fact. On the contrary, Your Majesty, the more you indulge them, the worse they'll get. I think you should issue an edict now, declaring the play sacrilegious and banning its performance. If you keep giving ground, they'll do as they please. Soon, they'll go so far that we can no longer tolerate it. So if you truly want to buy time, don't let them run wild."
But Louis XVI only shook his head.
"Your Majesty, if you keep allowing this behavior, even the Church will lose faith in you," Fersen, who had been standing silently to one side, added.
"Then issue the ban. But don't enforce it," Louis XVI said after a moment's thought.
"If you won't enforce it, you might as well not issue it at all," the queen said. "If you issue an order and then fail to carry it out, people will only look down on us even more. Worse, it will encourage them to defy us further."
"What if enforcing it leads to a clash?" Louis XVI countered. "Are we supposed to send the Swiss Guards around us to suppress them? We don't have enough forces to put them down. If a clash breaks out, that will truly expose our weakness! So, my queen, we must avoid any direct conflict for now. Even if it means enduring humiliation, as Henry IV did."
Henry IV was an emperor of the Holy Roman Empire in the eleventh century. In a struggle for power with the Holy See, he had been excommunicated by Pope Gregory VII. At the time, the Holy Roman Empire was unstable, and after Henry IV's excommunication, his subjects were theoretically released from their oaths of loyalty to him. Some princes, led by Duke Rudolf, who were seeking independence, declared that if Henry IV did not obtain the pope's forgiveness, they would no longer recognize his right to rule.
Beset by troubles at home and abroad, Henry IV had no choice but to bow to the pope. He traveled with his queen and son to Canossa Castle, where the pope was staying, to confess and beg him to revoke the decree of excommunication. He and his wife stood in the snow for three days and three nights before the pope granted them an audience. Only after enduring the pope's humiliation did he receive absolution. Later, Henry IV finally put down the rebellion, then led his army into Rome and drove out Pope Gregory VII. He even installed an antipope of his own, in a manner of speaking avenging the humiliation at Canossa.
By bringing up this story, Louis XVI hoped everyone would take Henry IV as an example: endure humiliation for a time, in the hope of better things to come. So, after hearing him, everyone fell silent.
After a while, the queen spoke. "In that case, let's simply pretend we know nothing. I once heard that when you do something, you should either not do it at all or see it through to the end. If we take no action, His Majesty the King will at least retain an air of mystery. If we act but do so weakly, people will only look down on us."
Louis XVI hurriedly nodded. "I think the queen makes a good point."
"But, Your Majesty," the queen suddenly said in a mocking tone, "I think everyone ought to have a limit. I've always been curious, and I've always wanted to see where yours lies."
Although the king had made no decision to ban Spartacus, rumors that the play was about to be banned continued to grow more and more outrageous. At first, they merely claimed the king was going to ban the play. Then they said he had already issued a secret order to arrest the author and every actor. After that came rumors that all the actors who dared take part in the play would be excommunicated... In short, new rumors kept springing up, one after another, leaving people dazzled.
At a time like this, Armand showed some of the same wisdom as his uncle. He treated all the rumors as free advertising. Taking advantage of them, he spread the word: "This may be the last performance! If you don't come see it now, you may never get another chance!"
Just as Adam and Eve had been powerless to resist the temptation of the "forbidden fruit," their descendants always got especially excited by anything bearing words like "forbidden." So the gimmick of "about to be banned" proved extremely effective. These days, every performance by the Dragon and Rose Troupe was packed, and other troupes had followed suit and begun performing the play as well. As a result, the blasphemous Slave War Song spread throughout Paris.
At first, the actors in the troupe had been nervous when these rumors began circulating. But the packed performances brought them more income, and with food prices soaring madly, that income was all the more persuasive. Now, the actors had grown fond of all kinds of rumors. They even started making up their own to draw in more spectators. Rumors that some actor or other had been attacked by an unknown assailant, for example, kept coming from their ranks.
Over this period, Paris had seen one clash after another, large and small. A few days earlier, even the French Guards and the German Dragoons had fought. Rumors that the king planned to massacre the people of Paris on a large scale were growing increasingly popular. Quite a few people believed the rumors Armand and the others had made up themselves.