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SCENE I.King Street, in front of the town-house. KEMPTHORN in the pillory. MERRY and a crowd of lookers-on.
KEMPTHORN (sings). THE WORLD is full of care, | |
Much like unto a bubble; | |
Women and care, and care and women, | |
And women and care and trouble. | |
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Good Master Merry, may I say confound? | 5 |
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MERRY. Ay, that you may.
KEMPTHORN. Well, then, with your permission, | |
Confound the Pillory!
MERRY. That s the very thing | |
The joiner said who made the Shrewsbury stocks. | |
He said, Confound the stocks, because they put him | |
Into his own. He was the first man in them. | 10 |
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KEMPTHORN. For swearing, was it?
MERRY. No, it was for charging; | |
He charged the town too much; and so the town, | |
To make things square, set him in his own stocks, | |
And fined him five pound sterling,just enough | |
To settle his own bill.
KEMPTHORN. And served him right; | 15 |
But, Master Merry, is it not eight bells? | |
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MERRY. Not quite.
KEMPTHORN. For, do you see? I m getting tired | |
Of being perched aloft here in this cronest | |
Like the first mate of a whaler, or a Middy | |
Mast-headed, looking out for land! Sail ho! | 20 |
Here comes a heavy-laden merchantman | |
With the lee clews eased off, and running free | |
Before the wind. A solid man of Boston. | |
A comfortable man, with dividends, | |
And the first salmon, and the first green peas. A gentleman passes. | 25 |
He does not even turn his head to look. | |
He s gone without a word. Here comes another, | |
A different kind of craft on a taut bowline, | |
Deacon Giles Firmin the apothecary, | |
A pious and a ponderous citizen, | 30 |
Looking as rubicund and round and splendid | |
As the great bottle in his own shop window! DEACON FIRMIN passes. | |
And here s my host of the Three Mariners, | |
My creditor and trusty taverner, | |
My corporal in the Great Artillery! | 35 |
He s not a man to pass me without speaking. COLE looks away and passes. | |
Dont yaw so; keep your luff, old hypocrite! | |
Respectable, ah yes, respectable, | |
You, with your seat in the new Meeting-house, | |
Your cow-right on the Common! But who s this? | 40 |
I did not know the Mary Ann was in! | |
And yet this is my old friend, Captain Goldsmith, | |
As sure as I stand in the bilboes here. | |
Why, Ralph, my boy! Enter RALPH GOLDSMITH.
GOLDSMITH. Why, Simon, is it you? | |
Set in the bilboes?
KEMPTHORN. Chock-a-block, you see, | 45 |
And without chafing-gear.
GOLDSMITH. And what s it for? | |
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KEMPTHORN. Ask that starbowline with the boat-hook there, | |
That handsome man.
MERRY (bowing). For swearing.
KEMPTHORN. In this town | |
They put sea-captains in the stocks for swearing, | |
And Quakers for not swearing. So look out. | 50 |
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GOLDSMITH. I pray you set him free; he meant no harm; | |
T is an old habit he picked up afloat. | |
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MERRY. Well, as your time is out, you may come down. | |
The law allows you now to go at large | |
Like Elder Olivers horse upon the Common. | 55 |
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KEMPTHORN. Now, hearties, bear a hand! Let go and haul.KEMPTHORN is set free, and comes forward, shaking GOLDSMITHS hand. | |
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KEMPTHORN. Give me your hand, Ralph. Ah, how good it feels! | |
The hand of an old friend.
GOLDSMITH. God bless you, Simon! | |
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KEMPTHORN. Now let us make a straight wake for the tavern | |
Of the Three Mariners, Samuel Cole commander; | 60 |
Where we can take our ease, and see the shipping, | |
And talk about old times.
GOLDSMITH. First I must pay | |
My duty to the Governor, and take him | |
His letters and dispatches. Come with me. | |
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KEMPTHORN. I d rather not. I saw him yesterday. | 65 |
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GOLDSMITH. Then wait for me at the Three Nuns and Comb. | |
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KEMPTHORN. I thank you. That s too near to the town pump. | |
I will go with you to the Governors, | |
And wait outside there, sailing off and on; | |
If I am wanted, you can hoist a signal. | 70 |
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MERRY. Shall I go with you and point out the way? | |
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GOLDSMITH. Oh no, I thank you. I am not a stranger | |
Here in your crooked little town.
MERRY. How now, sir? | |
Do you abuse our town? [Exit.
GOLDSMITH. Oh, no offence. | |
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KEMPTHORN. Ralph, I am under bonds for a hundred pound. | 75 |
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GOLDSMITH. Hard lines. What for?
KEMPTHORN. To take some Quakers back | |
I brought here from Barbadoes in the Swallow. | |
And how to do it I dont clearly see, | |
For one of them is banished, and another | |
Is sentenced to be hanged! What shall I do? | 80 |
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GOLDSMITH. Just slip your hawser on some cloudy night; | |
Sheer off, and pay it with the topsail, Simon! [Exeunt. | |
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SCENE II.Street in front of the prison. In the background a gateway and several flights of steps leading up terraces to the Governors house. A pump on one side of the street. JOHN ENDICOTT, MERRY, UPSALL, and others. A drum beats.
JOHN ENDICOTT. Oh shame, shame, shame!
MERRY. Yes, it would be a shame | |
But for the damnable sin of Heresy! | |
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JOHN ENDICOTT. A woman scourged and dragged about our streets! | 85 |
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MERRY. Well, Roxbury and Dorchester must take | |
Their share of shame. She will be whipped in each! | |
Three towns, and Forty Stripes save one; that makes | |
Thirteen in each.
JOHN ENDICOTT. And are we Jews or Christians? | |
See where she comes, amid a gaping crowd! | 90 |
And she a child. Oh, pitiful! pitiful! | |
There s blood upon her clothes, her hands, her feet! Enter MARSHAL and a drummer, EDITH, stripped to the waist, followed by the hangman with a scourge, and a noisy crowd. | |
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EDITH. Here let me rest one moment. I am tired. | |
Will some one give me water?
MERRY. At his peril. | |
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UPSALL. Alas! that I should live to see this day! | 95 |
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A WOMAN. Did I forsake my father and my mother | |
And come here to New England to see this? | |
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EDITH. I am athirst. Will no one give me water? | |
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JOHN ENDICOTT (making his way through the crowd with water). In the Lords name!
EDITH (drinking). In his name I receive it! | |
Sweet as the water of Samarias well | 100 |
This water tastes. I thank thee. Is it thou? | |
I was afraid thou hadst deserted me. | |
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JOHN ENDICOTT. Never will I desert thee, nor deny thee. | |
Be comforted. | |
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MERRY. O Master Endicott, | 105 |
Be careful what you say.
JOHN ENDICOTT. Peace, idle babbler! | |
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MERRY. You ll rue these words!
JOHN ENDICOTT. Art thou not better now? | |
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EDITH. They ve struck me as with roses.
JOHN ENDICOTT. Ah, these wounds! | |
These bloody garments!
EDITH. It is granted me | |
To seal my testimony with my blood. | 110 |
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JOHN ENDICOTT. O blood-red seal of mans vindictive wrath! | |
O roses of the garden of the Lord! | |
I, of the household of Iscariot, | |
I have betrayed in thee my Lord and Master! WENLOCK CHRISTISON appears above, at the window of the prison, stretching out his hands through the bars. | |
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CHRISTISON. Be of good courage, O my child! my child! | 115 |
Blessed art thou when men shall persecute thee! | |
Fear not their faces, saith the Lord, fear not, | |
For I am with thee to deliver thee. | |
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A CITIZEN. Who is it crying from the prison yonder? | |
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MERRY. It is old Wenlock Christison.
CHRISTISON. Remember | 120 |
Him who was scourged, and mocked, and crucified! | |
I see his messengers attending thee. | |
Be steadfast, oh, be steadfast to the end! | |
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EDITH (with exultation). I cannot reach thee with these arms, O father! | |
But closely in my soul do I embrace thee | 125 |
And hold thee. In thy dungeon and thy death | |
I will be with thee, and will comfort thee! | |
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MARSHAL. Come, put an end to this. Let the drum beat.The drum beats. Exeunt all but JOHN ENDICOTT, UPSALL, and MERRY. | |
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CHRISTISON. Dear child, farewell! Never shall I behold | |
Thy face again with these bleared eyes of flesh; | 130 |
And never wast thou fairer, lovelier, dearer | |
Than now, when scourged and bleeding, and insulted | |
For the truths sake. O pitiless, pitiless town! | |
The wrath of God hangs over thee; and the day | |
Is near at hand when thou shalt be abandoned | 135 |
To desolation and the breeding of nettles. | |
The bittern and the cormorant shall lodge | |
Upon thine upper lintels, and their voice | |
Sing in thy windows. Yea, thus saith the Lord! | |
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JOHN ENDICOTT. Awake! awake! ye sleepers, ere too late, | 140 |
And wipe these bloody statutes from your books! [Exit. | |
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MERRY. Take heed; the walls have ears!
UPSALL. At last, the heart | |
Of every honest man must speak or break! Enter GOVERNOR ENDICOTT with his halberdiers. | |
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ENDICOTT. What is this stir and tumult in the street? | |
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MERRY. Worshipful sir, the whipping of a girl, | 145 |
And her old father howling from the prison. | |
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ENDICOTT (to his halberdiers). Go on.
CHRISTISON. Antiochus! Antiochus! | |
O thou that slayest the Maccabees! The Lord | |
Shall smite thee with incurable disease, | |
And no man shall endure to carry thee! | 150 |
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MERRY. Peace, old blasphemer!
CHRISTISON. I both feel and see | |
The presence and the waft of death go forth | |
Against thee, and already thou dost look | |
Like one that s dead!
MERRY (pointing). And there is your own son, | |
Worshipful sir, abetting the sedition. | 155 |
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ENDICOTT. Arrest him. Do not spare him.
MERRY (aside). His own child! | |
There is some special providence takes care | |
That none shall be too happy in this world! | |
His own first-born.
ENDICOTT. O Absalom, my son![Exeunt; the Governor with his halberdiers ascending the steps of his house. | |
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SCENE III.The Governors private room. Papers upon the table. ENDICOTT and BELLINGHAM.
ENDICOTT. There is a ship from England has come in, | 160 |
Bringing dispatches and much news from home. | |
His Majesty was at the Abbey crowned; | |
And when the coronation was complete | |
There passed a mighty tempest oer the city, | |
Portentous with great thunderings and lightnings. | 165 |
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BELLINGHAM. After his fathers, if I well remember, | |
There was an earthquake, that foreboded evil. | |
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ENDICOTT. Ten of the Regicides have been put to death! | |
The bodies of Cromwell, Ireton, and Bradshaw | |
Have been dragged from their graves, and publicly | 170 |
Hanged in their shrouds at Tyburn.
BELLINGHAM. Horrible! | |
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ENDICOTT. Thus the old tyranny revives again! | |
Its arm is long enough to reach us here, | |
As you will see. For, more insulting still | |
Than flaunting in our faces dead mens shrouds, | 175 |
Here is the Kings Mandamus, taking from us, | |
From this day forth, all power to punish Quakers. | |
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BELLINGHAM. That takes from us all power; we are but puppets, | |
And can no longer execute our laws. | |
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ENDICOTT. His Majesty begins with pleasant words, | 180 |
Trusty and well-beloved, we greet you well; | |
Then with a ruthless hand he strips from me | |
All that which makes me what I am; as if | |
From some old general in the field, grown gray | |
In service, scarred with many wounds, | 185 |
Just at the hour of victory, he should strip | |
His badge of office and his well-gained honors, | |
And thrust him back into the ranks again. Opens the Mandamus and hands it to BELLINGHAM; and, while he is reading, ENDICOTT walks up and down the room. | |
Here, read it for yourself; you see his words | |
Are pleasant wordsconsideratenot reproachful | 190 |
Nothing could be more gentleor more royal; | |
But then the meaning underneath the words, | |
Mark that. He says all people known as Quakers | |
Among us, now condemned to suffer death | |
Or any corporal punishment whatever, | 195 |
Who are imprisoned, or may be obnoxious | |
To the like condemnation, shall be sent | |
Forthwith to England, to be dealt with there | |
In such wise as shall be agreeable | |
Unto the English law and their demerits. | 200 |
Is it not so?
BELLINGHAM (returning the paper). Ay, so the paper says. | |
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ENDICOTT. It means we shall no longer rule the Province; | |
It means farewell to law and liberty, | |
Authority, respect for Magistrates, | |
The peace and welfare of the Commonwealth. | 205 |
If all the knaves upon this continent | |
Can make appeal to England, and so thwart | |
The ends of truth and justice by delay, | |
Our power is gone forever. We are nothing | |
But ciphers, valueless save when we follow | 210 |
Some unit; and our unit is the King! | |
T is he that gives us value.
BELLINGHAM. I confess | |
Such seems to be the meaning of this paper, | |
But being the Kings Mandamus, signed and sealed, | |
We must obey, or we are in rebellion. | 215 |
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ENDICOTT. I tell you, Richard Bellingham,I tell you, | |
That this is the beginning of a struggle | |
Of which no mortal can foresee the end. | |
I shall not live to fight the battle for you, | |
I am a man disgraced in every way; | 220 |
This order takes from me my self-respect | |
And the respect of others. T is my doom, | |
Yes, my death-warrant, but must be obeyed! | |
Take it, and see that it is executed | |
So far as this, that all be set at large; | 225 |
But see that none of them be sent to England | |
To bear false witness, and to spread reports | |
That might be prejudicial to ourselves. [Exit BELLINGHAM. | |
There s a dull pain keeps knocking at my heart, | |
Dolefully saying, Set thy house in order, | 230 |
For thou shalt surely die, and shalt not live! | |
For me the shadow on the dial-plate | |
Goeth not back, but on into the dark! [Exit. | |
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SCENE IV.The street. A crowd, reading a placard on the door of the Meeting-house. NICHOLAS UPSALL among them. Enter JOHN NORTON.
NORTON. What is this gathering here?
UPSALL. One William Brand, | |
An old man like ourselves, and weak in body, | 235 |
Has been so cruelly tortured in his prison, | |
The people are excited, and they threaten | |
To tear the prison down.
NORTON. What has been done? | |
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UPSALL. He has been put in irons, with his neck | |
And heels tied close together, and so left | 240 |
From five in the morning until nine at night. | |
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NORTON. What more was done?
UPSALL. He has been kept five days | |
In prison without food, and cruelly beaten, | |
So that his limbs were cold, his senses stopped. | |
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NORTON. What more?
UPSALL. And is this not enough?
NORTON. Now hear me. | 245 |
This William Brand of yours has tried to beat | |
Our Gospel Ordinances black and blue; | |
And, if he has been beaten in like manner, | |
It is but justice, and I will appear | |
In his behalf that did so. I suppose | 250 |
That he refused to work.
UPSALL. He was too weak. | |
How could an old man work, when he was starving? | |
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NORTON. And what is this placard?
UPSALL. The Magistrates, | |
To appease the people and prevent a tumult, | |
Have put up these placards throughout the town, | 255 |
Declaring that the jailer shalt be dealt with | |
Impartially and sternly by the Court. | |
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NORTON (tearing down the placard). Down with this weak and cowardly concession, | |
This flag of truce with Satan and with Sin! | |
I fling it in his face! I trample it | 260 |
Under my feet! It is his cunning craft, | |
The masterpiece of his diplomacy, | |
To cry and plead for boundless toleration. | |
But toleration is the first-born child | |
Of all abominations and deceits. | 265 |
There is no room in Christs triumphant army | |
For tolerationists. And if an Angel | |
Preach any other gospel unto you | |
Than that ye have received, Gods malediction | |
Descend upon him! Let him be accursed! [Exit. | 270 |
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UPSALL. Now, go thy ways, John Norton! go thy ways, | |
Thou Orthodox Evangelist, as men call thee! | |
But even now there cometh out of England, | |
Like an oertaking and accusing conscience, | |
An outraged man, to call thee to account | 275 |
For the unrighteous murder of his son! [Exit. | |
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SCENE V.The Wilderness. Enter EDITH.
EDITH. How beautiful are these autumnal woods! | |
The wilderness doth blossom like the rose, | |
And change into a garden of the Lord! | |
How silent everywhere! Alone and lost | 280 |
Here in the forest, there comes over me | |
An inward awfulness. I recall the words | |
Of the Apostle Paul: In journeyings often, | |
Often in perils in the wilderness, | |
In weariness, in painfulness, in watchings, | 285 |
In hunger and thirst, in cold and nakedness; | |
And I forget my weariness and pain, | |
My watchings, and my hunger and my thirst. | |
The Lord hath said that He will seek his flock | |
In cloudy and dark days, and they shall dwell | 290 |
Securely in the wilderness, and sleep | |
Safe in the woods! Whichever way I turn, | |
I come back with my face towards the town. | |
Dimly I see it, and the sea beyond it. | |
O cruel town! I know what waits me there, | 295 |
And yet I must go back; for ever louder | |
I hear the inward calling of the Spirit, | |
And must obey the voice. O woods, that wear | |
Your golden crown of martyrdom, bloodstained, | |
From you I learn a lesson of submission, | 300 |
And am obedient even unto death, | |
If God so wills it. [Exit.
JOHN ENDICOTT (within). Edith! Edith! Edith!He enters. | |
It is in vain! I call, she answers not; | |
I follow, but I find no trace of her! | |
Blood! blood! The leaves above me and around me | 305 |
Are red with blood! The pathways of the forest, | |
The clouds that canopy the setting sun | |
And even the little river in the meadows | |
Are stained with it! Whereer I look, I see it! | |
Away, thou horrible vision! Leave me! leave me! | 310 |
Alas! yon winding stream, that gropes its way | |
Through mist and shadow, doubling on itself, | |
At length will find, by the unerring law | |
Of nature, what it seeks. O soul of man, | |
Groping through mist and shadow, and recoiling | 315 |
Back on thyself, are, too, thy devious ways | |
Subject to law? and when thou seemest to wander | |
The farthest from thy goal, art thou still drawing | |
Nearer and nearer to it, till at length | |
Thou findest, like the river, what thou seekest? [Exit. | 320 |
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