Gavroche — A Voice from Paris, 1832

Don’t go bad-mouthin’ revolutionaries, I’ve got something to say. This pistol isn’t meant to hurt you— it’s to put some food your way. You can call us rogues and rascals, you can call us fools all day, but we’re fighting for the poor folk who’ve got nothing on their plate. Don’t go bad-mouthin’ revolutionaries, don’t you grumble, don’t you shout! We’re just trying to fill your basket— that’s what all this fuss is about! Don’t go bad-mouthin’ revolutionaries, isn’t it plain to see? If there’s bread upon your table, you can thank the likes of me! Look at them toffs, mate, fat as brioches, every one. Stuffing cakes into their faces, drinking wine and having fun. What d’you think they do with all that money? I’d really like to know. Maybe they just eat the coins and watch their bellies grow! Don’t go bad-mouthin’ revolutionaries, don’t you grumble, don’t you shout! We’re just trying to fill your basket— that’s what all this fuss is about! I’ve come running from the boulevard, and everything’s getting hot. The city’s bubbling like a kettle— ready or not! The streets are humming, the pots are boiling, hear the people roar! Seems to me the time has come to settle up the score! The coppers? Ha! Nothing but a pack of dogs. Let’s give the dogs a cheer! Three cheers for the watchdogs— so long as they stay over there! Don’t go bad-mouthin’ revolutionaries, don’t you grumble, don’t you shout! We’re just trying to fill your basket— that’s what all this fuss is about! Don’t go bad-mouthin’ revolutionaries, I’ve said it once before: we’re fighting so the poor folk ain’t hungry anymore! So raise your voice, mate, and sing it loud with me— Don’t go bad-mouthin’ revolutionaries! They’re fightin’ for your supper, see!