Act 3 — SCENE II. — A street. Enter JOHN ENDICOTT and UPSALL.
Reading edition
JOHN ENDICOTT. Scourged in three towns! and yet the busy people Go up and down the streets on their affairs Of business or of pleasure, as if nothing Had happened to disturb them or their thoughts! When bloody tragedies like this are acted, The pulses of a nation should stand still The town should be in mourning, and the people Speak only in low whispers to each other.
UPSALL. I know this people; and that underneath A cold outside there burns a secret fire That will find vent and will not be put out, Till every remnant of these barbarous laws Shall be to ashes burned, and blown away.
JOHN ENDICOTT. Scourged in three towns! It is incredible Such things can be! I feel the blood within me Fast mounting in rebellion, since in vain Have I implored compassion of my father!
UPSALL. You know your father only as a father; I know him better as a Magistrate. He is a man both loving and severe; A tender heart; a will inflexible. None ever loved him more than I have loved him. He is an upright man and a just man In all things save the treatment of the Quakers.
JOHN ENDICOTT. Yet I have found him cruel and unjust Even as a father. He has driven me forth Into the street; has shut his door upon me, With words of bitterness. I am as homeless As these poor Quakers are.
UPSALL. Then come with me. You shall be welcome for your father's sake, And the old friendship that has been between us. He will relent erelong. A father's anger Is like a sword without a handle, piercing Both ways alike, and wounding him that wields it No less than him that it is pointed at. [Exeunt.
SCENE III. — The prison. Night. EDITH reading the Bible by a lamp.
EDITH. "Blessed are ye when men shall persecute you, And shall revile you, and shall say against you All manner of evil falsely for my sake! Rejoice, and be exceeding glad, for great Is your reward in heaven. For so the prophets, Which were before you, have been persecuted."
Enter JOHN ENDICOTT.
JOHN ENDICOTT. Edith!
EDITH. Who is it that speaketh?
JOHN ENDICOTT. Saul of Tarsus: As thou didst call me once.
EDITH (coming forward). Yea, I remember. Thou art the Governor's son.
JOHN ENDICOTT. I am ashamed Thou shouldst remember me.
EDITH. Why comest thou Into this dark guest-chamber in the night? What seekest thou?
JOHN ENDICOTT. Forgiveness!
EDITH. I forgive All who have injured me. What hast thou done?
JOHN ENDICOTT. I have betrayed thee, thinking that in this I did God service. Now, in deep contrition, I come to rescue thee.
EDITH. From what?
JOHN ENDICOTT. From prison. EDITH. I am safe here within these gloomy walls.
JOHN ENDICOTT. From scourging in the streets, and in three towns!
EDITH. Remembering who was scourged for me, I shrink not Nor shudder at the forty stripes save one.
JOHN ENDICOTT. Perhaps from death itself!
EDITH. I fear not death, Knowing who died for me.
JOHN ENDICOTT (aside). Surely some divine Ambassador is speaking through those lips And looking through those eyes! I cannot answer!
EDITH. If all these prison doors stood opened wide I would not cross the threshold,—not one step. There are invisible bars I cannot break; There are invisible doors that shut me in, And keep me ever steadfast to my purpose.
JOHN ENDICOTT. Thou hast the patience and the faith of Saints!
EDITH. Thy Priest hath been with me this day to save me, Not only from the death that comes to all, But from the second death!
JOHN ENDICOTT. The Pharisee! My heart revolts against him and his creed! Alas! the coat that was without a seam Is rent asunder by contending sects; Each bears away a portion of the garment, Blindly believing that he has the whole!
EDITH. When Death, the Healer, shall have touched our eyes With moist clay of the grave, then shall we see The truth as we have never yet beheld it. But he that overcometh shall not be Hurt of the second death. Has he forgotten The many mansions in our father's house?
JOHN ENDICOTT. There is no pity in his iron heart! The hands that now bear stamped upon their palms The burning sign of Heresy, hereafter Shall be uplifted against such accusers, And then the imprinted letter and its meaning Will not be Heresy, but Holiness!
EDITH. Remember, thou condemnest thine own father!
JOHN ENDICOTT. I have no father! He has cast me off. I am as homeless as the wind that moans And wanders through the streets. Oh, come with me! Do not delay. Thy God shall be my God, And where thou goest I will go.
EDITH. I cannot. Yet will I not deny it, nor conceal it; From the first moment I beheld thy face I felt a tenderness in my soul towards thee. My mind has since been inward to the Lord, Waiting his word. It has not yet been spoken.
JOHN ENDICOTT. I cannot wait. Trust me. Oh, come with me!
EDITH. In the next room, my father, an old man, Sitteth imprisoned and condemned to death, Willing to prove his faith by martyrdom; And thinkest thou his daughter would do less?
JOHN ENDICOTT. Oh, life is sweet, and death is terrible!
EDITH. I have too long walked hand in hand with death To shudder at that pale familiar face. But leave me now. I wish to be alone.
JOHN ENDICOTT. Not yet. Oh, let me stay.
EDITH. Urge me no more.
JOHN ENDICOTT. Alas! good-night. I will not say good-by!
EDITH. Put this temptation underneath thy feet. To him that overcometh shall be given The white stone with the new name written on it, That no man knows save him that doth receive it, And I will give thee a new name, and call thee Paul of Damascus, and not Saul of Tarsus.
[Exit ENDICOTT. EDITH sits down again to read the Bible.