The Lord descended from above,And bowed the heavens high;And underneath his feet He castThe darkness of the sky.On Cherubim and SeraphimRight royally He rode,And on the wings of mighty windsCame flying all abroad.NORTON (rising and turning the hourglass on the pulpit). I heard a great voice from the temple saying Unto the Seven Angels, Go your ways; Pour out the vials of the wrath of God Upon the earth. And the First Angel went And poured his vial on the earth; and straight There fell a noisome and a grievous sore On them which had the birth-mark of the Beast, And them which worshipped and adored his image. On us hath fallen this grievous pestilence. There is a sense of terror in the air; And apparitions of things horrible Are seen by many; from the sky above us The stars fall; and beneath us the earth quakes! The sound of drums at midnight from afar, The sound of horsemen riding to and fro, As if the gates of the invisible world Were opened, and the dead came forth to warn us,— All these are omens of some dire disaster Impending over us, and soon to fall, Moreover, in the language of the Prophet, Death is again come up into our windows, To cut off little children from without, And young men from the streets. And in the midst Of all these supernatural threats and warnings Doth Heresy uplift its horrid head; A vision of Sin more awful and appalling Than any phantasm, ghost, or apparition, As arguing and portending some enlargement Of the mysterious Power of Darkness!EDITH, barefooted, and clad in sackcloth, with her hair hanging loose upon her shoulders, walks slowly up the aisle, followed by WHARTON and other Quakers. The congregation starts up in confusion.EDITH (to NORTON, raising her hand).Peace!NORTON. Anathema maranatha! The Lord cometh!EDITH. Yea, verily He cometh, and shall judge The shepherds of Israel who do feed themselves, And leave their flocks to eat what they have trodden Beneath their feet.NORTON.Be silent, babbling woman!St. Paul commands all women to keep silenceWithin the churches.EDITH.Yet the women prayedAnd prophesied at Corinth in his day;And, among those on whom the fiery tonguesOf Pentecost descended, some were women!NORTON. The Elders of the Churches, by our law, Alone have power to open the doors of speech And silence in the Assembly. I command you!EDITH. The law of God is greater than your laws! Ye build your church with blood, your town with crime; The heads thereof give judgment for reward; The priests thereof teach only for their hire; Your laws condemn the innocent to death; And against this I bear my testimony!NORTON. What testimony?EDITH.That of the Holy Spirit,Which, as your Calvin says, surpasseth reason.NORTON. The laborer is worthy of his hire.EDITH. Yet our great Master did not teach for hire, And the Apostles without purse or scrip Went forth to do his work. Behold this box Beneath thy pulpit. Is it for the poor? Thou canst not answer. It is for the Priest And against this I bear my testimony.NORTON. Away with all these Heretics and Quakers! Quakers, forsooth! Because a quaking fell On Daniel, at beholding of the Vision, Must ye needs shake and quake? Because Isaiah Went stripped and barefoot, must ye wail and howl? Must ye go stripped and naked? must ye make A wailing like the dragons, and a mourning As of the owls? Ye verify the adage That Satan is God's ape! Away with them!Tumult. The Quakers are driven out with violence, EDITH following slowly. The congregation retires in confusion.Thus freely do the Reprobates commit Such measure of iniquity as fits them For the intended measure of God's wrath And even in violating God's commands Are they fulfilling the divine decree! The will of man is but an instrument Disposed and predetermined to its action According unto the decree of God, Being as much subordinate thereto As is the axe unto the hewer's hand!He descends from the pulpit, and joins GOVERNOR ENDICOTT, who comes forward to meet him.The omens and the wonders of the time, Famine, and fire, and shipwreck, and disease, The blast of corn, the death of our young men, Our sufferings in all precious, pleasant things, Are manifestations of the wrath divine, Signs of God's controversy with New England. These emissaries of the Evil One, These servants and ambassadors of Satan, Are but commissioned executioners Of God's vindictive and deserved displeasure. We must receive them as the Roman Bishop Once received Attila, saying, I rejoice You have come safe, whom I esteem to be The scourge of God, sent to chastise his people. This very heresy, perchance, may serve The purposes of God to some good end. With you I leave it; but do not neglect The holy tactics of the civil sword.ENDICOTT. And what more can be done?NORTON.The hand that cutThe Red Cross from the colors of the kingCan cut the red heart from this heresy.Fear not. All blasphemies immediateAnd heresies turbulent must be suppressedBy civil power.ENDICOTT.But in what way suppressed?NORTON. The Book of Deuteronomy declares That if thy son, thy daughter, or thy wife, Ay, or the friend which is as thine own soul, Entice thee secretly, and say to thee, Let us serve other gods, then shalt thine eye Not pity him, but thou shalt surely kill him, And thine own hand shall be the first upon him To slay him.ENDICOTT.Four already have been slain;And others banished upon pain of death.But they come back again to meet their doom,Bringing the linen for their winding-sheets.We must not go too far. In truth, I shrinkFrom shedding of more blood. The people murmurAt our severity.NORTON.Then let them murmur!Truth is relentless; justice never wavers;The greatest firmness is the greatest mercy;The noble order of the MagistracyCometh immediately from God, and yetThis noble order of the MagistracyIs by these Heretics despised and outraged.ENDICOTT. To-night they sleep in prison. If they die, They cannot say that we have caused their death. We do but guard the passage, with the sword Pointed towards them; if they dash upon it, Their blood will be on their own heads, not ours.NORTON.Enough. I ask no more. My predecessorCoped only with the milder heresiesOf Antinomians and of Anabaptists.He was not born to wrestle with these fiends.Chrysostom in his pulpit; AugustineIn disputation; Timothy in his house!The lantern of St. Botolph's ceased to burnWhen from the portals of that church he cameTo be a burning and a shining lightHere in the wilderness. And, as he layOn his death-bed, he saw me in a visionRide on a snow-white horse into this town.His vision was prophetic; thus I came,A terror to the impenitent, and DeathOn the pale horse of the ApocalypseTo all the accursed race of Heretics![Exeunt.SCENE II. — A street. On one side, NICHOLAS UPSALL's house; on the other, WALTER MERRY's, with a flock of pigeons on the roof. UPSALL seated in the porch of his house.UPSALL. O day of rest! How beautiful, how fair, How welcome to the weary and the old! Day of the Lord! and truce to earthly cares! Day of the Lord, as all our days should be! Ah, why will man by his austerities Shut out the blessed sunshine and the light, And make of thee a dungeon of despair!WALTER MERRY (entering and looking round him). All silent as a graveyard! No one stirring; No footfall in the street, no sound of voices! By righteous punishment and perseverance, And perseverance in that punishment, At last I have brought this contumacious town To strict observance of the Sabbath day. Those wanton gospellers, the pigeons yonder, Are now the only Sabbath-breakers left. I cannot put them down. As if to taunt me, They gather every Sabbath afternoon In noisy congregation on my roof, Billing and cooing. Whir! take that, ye Quakers.Throws a stone at the pigeons. Sees UPSALL.Ah! Master Nicholas!UPSALL.Good afternoon,Dear neighbor Walter.MERRY.Master Nicholas,You have to-day withdrawn yourself from meeting.UPSALL. Yea, I have chosen rather to worship God Sitting in silence here at my own door.MERRY. Worship the Devil! You this day have broken Three of our strictest laws. First, by abstaining From public worship. Secondly, by walking Profanely on the Sabbath.UPSALL.Not one step.I have been sitting still here, seeing the pigeonsFeed in the street and fly about the roofs.MERRY. You have been in the street with other intent Than going to and from the Meeting-house. And, thirdly, you are harboring Quakers here. I am amazed!UPSALL.Men sometimes, it is said,Entertain angels unawares.MERRY.Nice angels!Angels in broad-brimmed hats and russet cloaks,The color of the Devil's nutting-bag. They cameInto the Meeting-house this afternoonMore in the shape of devils than of angels.The women screamed and fainted; and the boysMade such an uproar in the galleryI could not keep them quiet.UPSALL.Neighbor Walter,Your persecution is of no avail.MERRY. 'T is prosecution, as the Governor says, Not persecution.UPSALL.Well, your prosecution;Your hangings do no good.MERRY.The reason is,We do not hang enough. But, mark my words,We'll scour them; yea, I warrant ye, we'll scour them!And now go in and entertain your angels,And don't be seen here in the street againTill after sundown! There they are again!Exit UPSALL. MERRY throws another stone at the pigeons, and then goes into his house.SCENE III. — A room in UPSALL'S house. Night. EDITH, WHARTON, and other Quakers seated at a table. UPSALL seated near them, Several books on the table.WHARTON. William and Marmaduke, our martyred brothers, Sleep in untimely graves, if aught untimely Can find place in the providence of God, Where nothing comes too early or too late. I saw their noble death. They to the scaffold Walked hand in hand. Two hundred armed men And many horsemen guarded them, for fear Of rescue by the crowd, whose hearts were stirred.EDITH. O holy martyrs!WHARTON.When they tried to speak,Their voices by the roll of drums were drowned.When they were dead they still looked fresh and fair,The terror of death was not upon their faces.Our sister Mary, likewise, the meek woman,Has passed through martyrdom to her reward;Exclaiming, as they led her to her death,"These many days I've been in Paradise."And, when she died, Priest Wilson threw the hangmanHis handkerchief, to cover the pale faceHe dared not look upon.EDITH.As persecuted,Yet not forsaken; as unknown, yet known;As dying, and behold we are alive;As sorrowful, and yet rejoicing always;As having nothing, yet possessing all!WHARTON. And Leddra, too, is dead. But from his prison, The day before his death, he sent these words Unto the little flock of Christ: "What ever May come upon the followers of the Light,— Distress, affliction, famine, nakedness, Or perils in the city or the sea, Or persecution, or even death itself,— I am persuaded that God's armor of Light, As it is loved and lived in, will preserve you. Yea, death itself; through which you will find entrance Into the pleasant pastures of the fold, Where you shall feed forever as the herds That roam at large in the low valleys of Achor. And as the flowing of the ocean fills Each creek and branch thereof, and then retires, Leaving behind a sweet and wholesome savor; So doth the virtue and the life of God Flow evermore into the hearts of those Whom He hath made partakers of His nature; And, when it but withdraws itself a little, Leaves a sweet savor after it, that many Can say they are made clean by every word That He hath spoken to them in their silence."EDITH (rising and breaking into a kind of chant). Truly we do but grope here in the dark, Near the partition-wall of Life and Death, At every moment dreading or desiring To lay our hands upon the unseen door! Let us, then, labor for an inward stillness,— An inward stillness and an inward healing; That perfect silence where the lips and heart Are still, and we no longer entertain Our own imperfect thoughts and vain opinions, But God alone speaks in us, and we wait In singleness of heart, that we may know His will, and in the silence of our spirits, That we may do His will, and do that only!A long pause, interrupted by the sound of a drum approaching; then shouts in the street, and a loud knocking at the door.MARSHAL. Within there! Open the door!MERRY.Will no one answer?MARSHAL. In the King's name! Within there!MERRY.Open the door!UPSALL (from the window). It is not barred. Come in. Nothing prevents you. The poor man's door is ever on the latch. He needs no bolt nor bar to shut out thieves; He fears no enemies, and has no friends Importunate enough to need a key.Enter JOHN ENDICOTT, the MARSHAL, MERRY, and a crowd. Seeing the Quakers silent and unmoved, they pause, awe-struck. ENDICOTT opposite EDITH.MARSHAL. In the King's name do I arrest you all! Away with them to prison. Master Upsall, You are again discovered harboring here These ranters and disturbers of the peace. You know the law.UPSALL.I know it, and am readyTo suffer yet again its penalties.EDITH (to ENDICOTT). Why dost thou persecute me, Saul of Tarsus?ACT II.SCENE I. — JOHN ENDICOTT's room. Early morning.JOHN ENDICOTT. "Why dost thou persecute me, Saul of Tarsus?" All night these words were ringing in mine ears! A sorrowful sweet face; a look that pierced me With meek reproach; a voice of resignation That had a life of suffering in its tone; And that was all! And yet I could not sleep, Or, when I slept, I dreamed that awful dream! I stood beneath the elm-tree on the Common, On which the Quakers have been hanged, and heard A voice, not hers, that cried amid the darkness, "This is Aceldama, the field of blood! I will have mercy, and not sacrifice!"Opens the window and looks out.The sun is up already; and my heartSickens and sinks within me when I thinkHow many tragedies will be enactedBefore his setting. As the earth rolls round,It seems to me a huge Ixion's wheel,Upon whose whirling spokes we are bound fast,And must go with it! Ah, how bright the sunStrikes on the sea and on the masts of vessels,That are uplifted, in the morning air,Like crosses of some peaceable crusade!It makes me long to sail for lands unknown,No matter whither! Under me, in shadow,Gloomy and narrow, lies the little town,Still sleeping, but to wake and toil awhile,Then sleep again. How dismal looks the prison,How grim and sombre in the sunless street,—The prison where she sleeps, or wakes and waitsFor what I dare not think of,—death, perhaps!A word that has been said may be unsaid:It is but air. But when a deed is doneIt cannot be undone, nor can our thoughtsReach out to all the mischiefs that may follow.'T is time for morning prayers. I will go down.My father, though severe, is kind and just;And when his heart is tender with devotion,—When from his lips have fallen the words, "Forgive usAs we forgive,"—then will I intercedeFor these poor people, and perhaps may save them.[Exit.SCENE II. — Dock Square. On one side, the tavern of the Three Mariners. In the background, a quaint building with gables; and, beyond it, wharves and shipping. CAPTAIN KEMPTHORN and others seated at a table before the door. SAMUEL COLE standing near them.KEMPTHORN. Come, drink about! Remember Parson Melham, And bless the man who first invented flip!They drink.COLE. Pray, Master Kempthorn, where were you last night?KEMPTHORN. On board the Swallow, Simon Kempthorn, master, Up for Barbadoes, and the Windward Islands.COLE. The town was in a tumult.KEMPTHORN.And for what?COLE. Your Quakers were arrested.KEMPTHORN.How my Quakers?COLE. These you brought in your vessel from Barbadoes. They made an uproar in the Meeting-house Yesterday, and they're now in prison for it. I owe you little thanks for bringing them To the Three Mariners.KEMPTHORN.They have not harmed you.I tell you, Goodman Cole, that Quaker girlIs precious as a sea-bream's eye. I tell youIt was a lucky day when first she setHer little foot upon the Swallow's deck,Bringing good luck, fair winds, and pleasant weather.COLE. I am a law-abiding citizen; I have a seat in the new Meeting-house, A cow-right on the Common; and, besides, Am corporal in the Great Artillery. I rid me of the vagabonds at once.KEMPTHORN. Why should you not have Quakers at your tavern If you have fiddlers?COLE.Never! never! never!If you want fiddling you must go elsewhere,To the Green Dragon and the Admiral Vernon,And other such disreputable places.But the Three Mariners is an orderly house,Most orderly, quiet, and respectable.Lord Leigh said he could be as quiet hereAs at the Governor's. And have I notKing Charles's Twelve Good Rules, all framed and glazed,Hanging in my best parlor?KEMPTHORN.Here's a healthTo good King Charles. Will you not drink the King?Then drink confusion to old Parson Palmer.COLE. And who is Parson Palmer? I don't know him.KEMPTHORN. He had his cellar underneath his pulpit, And so preached o'er his liquor, just as you do.A drum within.COLE. Here comes the Marshal.MERRY (within).Make room for the Marshal.KEMPTHORN. How pompous and imposing he appears! His great buff doublet bellying like a mainsail, And all his streamers fluttering in the wind. What holds he in his hand?COLE.A proclamation.Enter the MARSHAL, with a proclamation; and MERRY, with a halberd. They are preceded by a drummer, and followed by the hangman, with an armful of books, and a crowd of people, among whom are UPSALL and JOHN ENDICOTT. A pile is made of the books.MERRY. Silence, the drum! Good citizens, attend To the new laws enacted by the Court.MARSHAL (reads). "Whereas a cursed sect of Heretics Has lately risen, commonly called Quakers, Who take upon themselves to be commissioned Immediately of God, and furthermore Infallibly assisted by the Spirit To write and utter blasphemous opinions, Despising Government and the order of God In Church and Commonwealth, and speaking evil Of Dignities, reproaching and reviling The Magistrates and Ministers, and seeking To turn the people from their faith, and thus Gain proselytes to their pernicious ways;— This Court, considering the premises, And to prevent like mischief as is wrought By their means in our land, doth hereby order, That whatsoever master or commander Of any ship, bark, pink, or catch shall bring To any roadstead, harbor, creek, or cove Within this Jurisdiction any Quakers, Or other blasphemous Heretics, shall pay Unto the Treasurer of the Commonwealth One hundred pounds, and for default thereof Be put in prison, and continue there Till the said sum be satisfied and paid."COLE. Now, Simon Kempthorn, what say you to that?KEMPTHORN. I pray you, Cole, lend me a hundred pounds!MARSHAL (reads). "If any one within this Jurisdiction Shall henceforth entertain, or shall conceal Quakers or other blasphemous Heretics, Knowing them so to be, every such person Shall forfeit to the country forty shillings For each hour's entertainment or concealment, And shall be sent to prison, as aforesaid, Until the forfeiture be wholly paid!"Murmurs in the crowd.KEMPTHORN. Now, Goodman Cole, I think your turn has come!COLE. Knowing them so to be!KEMPTHORN.At forty shillingsThe hour, your fine will be some forty pounds!COLE. Knowing them so to be! That is the law.MARSHAL (reads). "And it is further ordered and enacted, If any Quaker or Quakers shall presume To come henceforth into this Jurisdiction, Every male Quaker for the first offence Shall have one ear cut off; and shall be kept At labor in the Workhouse, till such time As he be sent away at his own charge. And for the repetition of the offence Shall have his other ear cut off, and then Be branded in the palm of his right hand. And every woman Quaker shall be whipt Severely in three towns; and every Quaker, Or he or she, that shall for a third time Herein again offend, shall have their tongues Bored through with a hot iron, and shall be Sentenced to Banishment on pain of Death."Loud murmurs. The voice of CHRISTISON in the crowd.O patience of the Lord! How long, how long, Ere thou avenge the blood of Thine Elect?MERRY. Silence, there, silence! Do not break the peace!MARSHAL (reads). "Every inhabitant of this Jurisdiction Who shall defend the horrible opinions Of Quakers, by denying due respect To equals and superiors, and withdrawing From Church Assemblies, and thereby approving The abusive and destructive practices Of this accursed sect, in opposition To all the orthodox received opinions Of godly men shall be forthwith commit ted Unto close prison for one month; and then Refusing to retract and to reform The opinions as aforesaid, he shall be Sentenced to Banishment on pain of Death. By the Court. Edward Rawson, Secretary." Now, hangman, do your duty. Burn those books.Loud murmurs in the crowd. The pile of books is lighted.UPSALL. I testify against these cruel laws! Forerunners are they of some judgment on us; And, in the love and tenderness I bear Unto this town and people, I beseech you, O Magistrates, take heed, lest ye be found As fighters against God!JOHN ENDICOTT (taking UPSALL'S hand). Upsall, I thank you For speaking words such as some younger man, I, or another, should have said before you. Such laws as these are cruel and oppressive; A blot on this fair town, and a disgrace To any Christian people.MERRY (aside, listening behind them).Here's sedition!I never thought that any good would comeOf this young popinjay, with his long hairAnd his great boots, fit only for the RussiansOr barbarous Indians, as his father says!THE VOICE. Woe to the bloody town! And rightfully Men call it the Lost Town! The blood of Abel Cries from the ground, and at the final judgment The Lord will say, "Cain, Cain! Where is thy brother?"MERRY. Silence there in the crowd!UPSALL (aside).'T is Christison!THE VOICE. O foolish people, ye that think to burn And to consume the truth of God, I tell you That every flame is a loud tongue of fire To publish it abroad to all the world Louder than tongues of men!KEMPTHORN (springing to his feet).Well said, my hearty!There's a brave fellow! There's a man of pluck!A man who's not afraid to say his say,Though a whole town's against him. Rain, rain, rain,Bones of St. Botolph, and put out this fire!The drum beats. Exeunt all but MERRY, KEMPTHORN, and COLE.MERRY. And now that matter's ended, Goodman Cole, Fetch me a mug of ale, your strongest ale.KEMPTHORN (sitting down).And me another mug of flip; and putTwo gills of brandy in it.[Exit COLE.MERRY.No; no more.Not a drop more, I say. You've had enough.KEMPTHORN. And who are you, sir?MERRY.I'm a Tithing-man,And Merry is my name.KEMPTHORN.A merry name!I like it; and I'll drink your merry healthTill all is blue.MERRY.And then you will be clappedInto the stocks, with the red letter DHung round about your neck for drunkenness.You're a free-drinker,—yes, and a free-thinker!KEMPTHORN. And you are Andrew Merry, or Merry Andrew.MERRY. My name is Walter Merry, and not Andrew.KEMPTHORN. Andrew or Walter, you're a merry fellow; I'll swear to that.MERRY.No swearing, let me tell you.The other day one Shorthose had his tonguePut into a cleft stick for profane swearing.COLE brings the ale.KEMPTHORN. Well, where's my flip? As sure as my name's Kempthorn—MERRY. Is your name Kempthorn?KEMPTHORN.That's the name I go by.MERRY. What, Captain Simon Kempthorn of the Swallow?KEMPTHORN. No other.MERRY (touching him on the shoulder).Then you're wanted. I arrest youIn the King's name.KEMPTHORN.And where's your warrant?MERRY (unfolding a paper, and reading).Here.Listen to me. "Hereby you are required,In the King's name, to apprehend the bodyOf Simon Kempthorn, mariner, and himSafely to bring before me, there to answerAll such objections as are laid to him,Touching the Quakers." Signed, John Endicott.KEMPTHORN. Has it the Governor's seal?MERRY.Ay, here it is.KEMPTHORN. Death's head and cross-bones. That's a pirate's flag!MERRY. Beware how you revile the Magistrates; You may be whipped for that.KEMPTHORN.Then mum's the word.Exeunt MERRY and KEMPTHORN.COLE.There's mischief brewing! Sure, there's mischief brewing.I feel like Master Josselyn when he foundThe hornet's nest, and thought it some strange fruit,Until the seeds came out, and then he dropped it.[Exit.Scene III. — A room in the Governor's house, Enter GOVERNOR ENDICOTT and MERRY.ENDICOTT. My son, you say?MERRY.Your Worship's eldest son.ENDICOTT. Speaking against the laws?MERRY.Ay, worshipful sir.ENDICOTT. And in the public market-place?MERRY.I saw himWith my own eyes, heard him with my own ears.ENDICOTT. Impossible!MERRY.He stood there in the crowdWith Nicholas Upsall, when the laws were readTo-day against the Quakers, and I heard himDenounce and vilipend them as unjust,And cruel, wicked, and abominable.ENDICOTT. Ungrateful son! O God! thou layest upon me A burden heavier than I can bear! Surely the power of Satan must be great Upon the earth, if even the elect Are thus deceived and fall away from grace!MERRY. Worshipful sir! I meant no harm—ENDICOTT.'T is well.You've done your duty, though you've done it roughly,And every word you've uttered since you cameHas stabbed me to the heart!MERRY.I do beseechYour Worship's pardon!ENDICOTT.He whom I have nurturedAnd brought up in the reverence of the Lord!The child of all my hopes and my affections!He upon whom I leaned as a sure staffFor my old age! It is God's chastisementFor leaning upon any arm but His!MERRY. Your Worship!—ENDICOTT.And this comes from holding parleyWith the delusions and deceits of Satan.At once, forever, must they be crushed out,Or all the land will reek with heresy!Pray, have you any children?MERRY.No, not any.ENDICOTT. Thank God for that. He has delivered you From a great care. Enough; my private griefs Too long have kept me from the public service.Exit MERRY, ENDICOTT seats himself at the table and arranges his papers.The hour has come; and I am eager now To sit in judgment on these Heretics.A knock.Come in. Who is it? (Not looking up).JOHN ENDICOTT.It is I.ENDICOTT (restraining himself).Sit down!JOHN ENDICOTT (sitting down). I come to intercede for these poor people Who are in prison, and await their trial.ENDICOTT. It is of them I wished to speak with you. I have been angry with you, but 't is passed. For when I hear your footsteps come or go, See in your features your dead mother's face, And in your voice detect some tone of hers, All anger vanishes, and I remember The days that are no more, and come no more, When as a child you sat upon my knee, And prattled of your playthings, and the games You played among the pear trees in the orchard!JOHN ENDICOTT. Oh, let the memory of my noble mother Plead with you to be mild and merciful! For mercy more becomes a Magistrate Than the vindictive wrath which men call justice!ENDICOTT. The sin of heresy is a deadly sin. 'T is like the falling of the snow, whose crystals The traveller plays with, thoughtless of his danger, Until he sees the air so full of light That it is dark; and blindly staggering onward, Lost and bewildered, he sits down to rest; There falls a pleasant drowsiness upon him, And what he thinks is sleep, alas! is death.JOHN ENDICOTT. And yet who is there that has never doubted? And doubting and believing, has not said, "Lord, I believe; help thou my unbelief"?ENDICOTT. In the same way we trifle with our doubts, Whose shining shapes are like the stars descending; Until at last, bewildered and dismayed, Blinded by that which seemed to give us light, We sink to sleep, and find that it is death,Rising.Death to the soul through all eternity! Alas that I should see you growing up To man's estate, and in the admonition And nurture of the law, to find you now Pleading for Heretics!JOHN ENDICOTT (rising).In the sight of God,Perhaps all men are Heretics. Who daresTo say that he alone has found the truth?We cannot always feel and think and actAs those who go before us. Had you done so,You would not now be here.ENDICOTT.Have you forgottenThe doom of Heretics, and the fate of thoseWho aid and comfort them? Have you forgottenThat in the market-place this very dayYou trampled on the laws? What right have you,An inexperienced and untravelled youth,To sit in judgment here upon the actsOf older men and wiser than yourself,Thus stirring up sedition in the streets,And making me a byword and a jest?JOHN ENDICOTT. Words of an inexperienced youth like me Were powerless if the acts of older men Were not before them. 'T is these laws themselves Stir up sedition, not my judgment of them.ENDICOTT. Take heed, lest I be called, as Brutus was, To be the judge of my own son. Begone! When you are tired of feeding upon husks, Return again to duty and submission, But not till then.JOHN ENDICOTT.I hear and I obey![Exit.ENDICOTT.Oh happy, happy they who have no children!He's gone! I hear the hall door shut behind him.It sends a dismal echo through my heart,As if forever it had closed between us,And I should look upon his face no more!Oh, this will drag me down into my grave,—To that eternal resting-place whereinMan lieth down, and riseth not again!Till the heavens be no more, he shall not wake,Nor be roused from his sleep; for Thou dost changeHis countenance and sendest him away![Exit.ACT III.SCENE I. — The Court of Assistants, ENDICOTT, BELLINGHAM, ATHERTON, and other magistrates. KEMPTHORN, MERRY, and constables. Afterwards WHARTON, EDITH, and CHRISTISON.ENDICOTT. Call Captain Simon Kempthorn.MERRY.Simon Kempthorn,Come to the bar!KEMPTHORN comes forward.ENDICOTT.You are accused of bringingInto this Jurisdiction, from Barbadoes,Some persons of that sort and sect of peopleKnown by the name of Quakers, and maintainingMost dangerous and heretical opinions,Purposely coming here to propagateTheir heresies and errors; bringing with themAnd spreading sundry books here, which containTheir doctrines most corrupt and blasphemous,And contrary to the truth professed among us.What say you to this charge?KEMPTHORN.I do acknowledge,Among the passengers on board the SwallowWere certain persons saying Thee and Thou.They seemed a harmless people, mostways silent,Particularly when they said their prayers.ENDICOTT. Harmless and silent as the pestilence! You'd better have brought the fever or the plague Among us in your ship! Therefore, this Court, For preservation of the Peace and Truth, Hereby commands you speedily to transport, Or cause to be transported speedily, The aforesaid persons hence unto Barbadoes, From whence they came; you paying all the charges Of their imprisonment.KEMPTHORN.Worshipful sir,No ship e'er prospered that has carried QuakersAgainst their will! I knew a vessel once—ENDICOTT. And for the more effectual performance Hereof you are to give security In bonds amounting to one hundred pounds. On your refusal, you will be committed To prison till you do it.KEMPTHORN.But you seeI cannot do it. The law, sir, of BarbadoesForbids the landing Quakers on the island.ENDICOTT. Then you will be committed. Who comes next?MERRY. There is another charge against the Captain.ENDICOTT. What is it?MERRY. Profane swearing, please your Worship. He cursed and swore from Dock Square to the Court-house,ENDICOTT. Then let him stand in the pillory for one hour.[Exit KEMPTHORN with constable.Who's next?MERRY.The Quakers.ENDICOTT.Call them.MERRY.Edward Wharton,Come to the bar!WHARTON.Yea, even to the bench.ENDICOTT. Take off your hat.WHARTON.My hat offendeth not.If it offendeth any, let him take it;For I shall not resist.ENDICOTT.Take off his hat.Let him be fined ten shillings for contempt.MERRY takes off WHARTON'S hat.WHARTON. What evil have I done?ENDICOTT.Your hair's too long;And in not putting off your hat to usYou've disobeyed and broken that commandmentWhich sayeth "Honor thy father and thy mother."WHARTON. John Endicott, thou art become too proud; And loved him who putteth off the hat, And honoreth thee by bowing of the body, And sayeth "Worshipful sir!" 'T is time for thee To give such follies over, for thou mayest Be drawing very near unto thy grave.ENDICOTT. Now, sirrah, leave your canting. Take the oath.WHARTON. Nay, sirrah me no sirrahs!
The Lord descended from above,And bowed the heavens high;And underneath his feet He castThe darkness of the sky.On Cherubim and SeraphimRight royally He rode,And on the wings of mighty windsCame flying all abroad.
NORTON (rising and turning the hourglass on the pulpit). I heard a great voice from the temple saying Unto the Seven Angels, Go your ways; Pour out the vials of the wrath of God Upon the earth. And the First Angel went And poured his vial on the earth; and straight There fell a noisome and a grievous sore On them which had the birth-mark of the Beast, And them which worshipped and adored his image. On us hath fallen this grievous pestilence. There is a sense of terror in the air; And apparitions of things horrible Are seen by many; from the sky above us The stars fall; and beneath us the earth quakes! The sound of drums at midnight from afar, The sound of horsemen riding to and fro, As if the gates of the invisible world Were opened, and the dead came forth to warn us,— All these are omens of some dire disaster Impending over us, and soon to fall, Moreover, in the language of the Prophet, Death is again come up into our windows, To cut off little children from without, And young men from the streets. And in the midst Of all these supernatural threats and warnings Doth Heresy uplift its horrid head; A vision of Sin more awful and appalling Than any phantasm, ghost, or apparition, As arguing and portending some enlargement Of the mysterious Power of Darkness!
EDITH, barefooted, and clad in sackcloth, with her hair hanging loose upon her shoulders, walks slowly up the aisle, followed by WHARTON and other Quakers. The congregation starts up in confusion.
EDITH (to NORTON, raising her hand).Peace!
NORTON. Anathema maranatha! The Lord cometh!
EDITH. Yea, verily He cometh, and shall judge The shepherds of Israel who do feed themselves, And leave their flocks to eat what they have trodden Beneath their feet.
NORTON.Be silent, babbling woman!St. Paul commands all women to keep silenceWithin the churches.
EDITH.Yet the women prayedAnd prophesied at Corinth in his day;And, among those on whom the fiery tonguesOf Pentecost descended, some were women!
NORTON. The Elders of the Churches, by our law, Alone have power to open the doors of speech And silence in the Assembly. I command you!
EDITH. The law of God is greater than your laws! Ye build your church with blood, your town with crime; The heads thereof give judgment for reward; The priests thereof teach only for their hire; Your laws condemn the innocent to death; And against this I bear my testimony!
NORTON. What testimony?
EDITH.That of the Holy Spirit,Which, as your Calvin says, surpasseth reason.
NORTON. The laborer is worthy of his hire.
EDITH. Yet our great Master did not teach for hire, And the Apostles without purse or scrip Went forth to do his work. Behold this box Beneath thy pulpit. Is it for the poor? Thou canst not answer. It is for the Priest And against this I bear my testimony.
NORTON. Away with all these Heretics and Quakers! Quakers, forsooth! Because a quaking fell On Daniel, at beholding of the Vision, Must ye needs shake and quake? Because Isaiah Went stripped and barefoot, must ye wail and howl? Must ye go stripped and naked? must ye make A wailing like the dragons, and a mourning As of the owls? Ye verify the adage That Satan is God's ape! Away with them!
Tumult. The Quakers are driven out with violence, EDITH following slowly. The congregation retires in confusion.
Thus freely do the Reprobates commit Such measure of iniquity as fits them For the intended measure of God's wrath And even in violating God's commands Are they fulfilling the divine decree! The will of man is but an instrument Disposed and predetermined to its action According unto the decree of God, Being as much subordinate thereto As is the axe unto the hewer's hand!
He descends from the pulpit, and joins GOVERNOR ENDICOTT, who comes forward to meet him.
The omens and the wonders of the time, Famine, and fire, and shipwreck, and disease, The blast of corn, the death of our young men, Our sufferings in all precious, pleasant things, Are manifestations of the wrath divine, Signs of God's controversy with New England. These emissaries of the Evil One, These servants and ambassadors of Satan, Are but commissioned executioners Of God's vindictive and deserved displeasure. We must receive them as the Roman Bishop Once received Attila, saying, I rejoice You have come safe, whom I esteem to be The scourge of God, sent to chastise his people. This very heresy, perchance, may serve The purposes of God to some good end. With you I leave it; but do not neglect The holy tactics of the civil sword.
ENDICOTT. And what more can be done?
NORTON.The hand that cutThe Red Cross from the colors of the kingCan cut the red heart from this heresy.Fear not. All blasphemies immediateAnd heresies turbulent must be suppressedBy civil power.
ENDICOTT.But in what way suppressed?
NORTON. The Book of Deuteronomy declares That if thy son, thy daughter, or thy wife, Ay, or the friend which is as thine own soul, Entice thee secretly, and say to thee, Let us serve other gods, then shalt thine eye Not pity him, but thou shalt surely kill him, And thine own hand shall be the first upon him To slay him.
ENDICOTT.Four already have been slain;And others banished upon pain of death.But they come back again to meet their doom,Bringing the linen for their winding-sheets.We must not go too far. In truth, I shrinkFrom shedding of more blood. The people murmurAt our severity.
NORTON.Then let them murmur!Truth is relentless; justice never wavers;The greatest firmness is the greatest mercy;The noble order of the MagistracyCometh immediately from God, and yetThis noble order of the MagistracyIs by these Heretics despised and outraged.
ENDICOTT. To-night they sleep in prison. If they die, They cannot say that we have caused their death. We do but guard the passage, with the sword Pointed towards them; if they dash upon it, Their blood will be on their own heads, not ours.
NORTON.Enough. I ask no more. My predecessorCoped only with the milder heresiesOf Antinomians and of Anabaptists.He was not born to wrestle with these fiends.Chrysostom in his pulpit; AugustineIn disputation; Timothy in his house!The lantern of St. Botolph's ceased to burnWhen from the portals of that church he cameTo be a burning and a shining lightHere in the wilderness. And, as he layOn his death-bed, he saw me in a visionRide on a snow-white horse into this town.His vision was prophetic; thus I came,A terror to the impenitent, and DeathOn the pale horse of the ApocalypseTo all the accursed race of Heretics![Exeunt.
SCENE II. — A street. On one side, NICHOLAS UPSALL's house; on the other, WALTER MERRY's, with a flock of pigeons on the roof. UPSALL seated in the porch of his house.
UPSALL. O day of rest! How beautiful, how fair, How welcome to the weary and the old! Day of the Lord! and truce to earthly cares! Day of the Lord, as all our days should be! Ah, why will man by his austerities Shut out the blessed sunshine and the light, And make of thee a dungeon of despair!
WALTER MERRY (entering and looking round him). All silent as a graveyard! No one stirring; No footfall in the street, no sound of voices! By righteous punishment and perseverance, And perseverance in that punishment, At last I have brought this contumacious town To strict observance of the Sabbath day. Those wanton gospellers, the pigeons yonder, Are now the only Sabbath-breakers left. I cannot put them down. As if to taunt me, They gather every Sabbath afternoon In noisy congregation on my roof, Billing and cooing. Whir! take that, ye Quakers.
Throws a stone at the pigeons. Sees UPSALL.
Ah! Master Nicholas!
UPSALL.Good afternoon,Dear neighbor Walter.
MERRY.Master Nicholas,You have to-day withdrawn yourself from meeting.
UPSALL. Yea, I have chosen rather to worship God Sitting in silence here at my own door.
MERRY. Worship the Devil! You this day have broken Three of our strictest laws. First, by abstaining From public worship. Secondly, by walking Profanely on the Sabbath.
UPSALL.Not one step.I have been sitting still here, seeing the pigeonsFeed in the street and fly about the roofs.
MERRY. You have been in the street with other intent Than going to and from the Meeting-house. And, thirdly, you are harboring Quakers here. I am amazed!
UPSALL.Men sometimes, it is said,Entertain angels unawares.
MERRY.Nice angels!Angels in broad-brimmed hats and russet cloaks,The color of the Devil's nutting-bag. They cameInto the Meeting-house this afternoonMore in the shape of devils than of angels.The women screamed and fainted; and the boysMade such an uproar in the galleryI could not keep them quiet.
UPSALL.Neighbor Walter,Your persecution is of no avail.
MERRY. 'T is prosecution, as the Governor says, Not persecution.
UPSALL.Well, your prosecution;Your hangings do no good.
MERRY.The reason is,We do not hang enough. But, mark my words,We'll scour them; yea, I warrant ye, we'll scour them!And now go in and entertain your angels,And don't be seen here in the street againTill after sundown! There they are again!
Exit UPSALL. MERRY throws another stone at the pigeons, and then goes into his house.
SCENE III. — A room in UPSALL'S house. Night. EDITH, WHARTON, and other Quakers seated at a table. UPSALL seated near them, Several books on the table.
WHARTON. William and Marmaduke, our martyred brothers, Sleep in untimely graves, if aught untimely Can find place in the providence of God, Where nothing comes too early or too late. I saw their noble death. They to the scaffold Walked hand in hand. Two hundred armed men And many horsemen guarded them, for fear Of rescue by the crowd, whose hearts were stirred.
EDITH. O holy martyrs!
WHARTON.When they tried to speak,Their voices by the roll of drums were drowned.When they were dead they still looked fresh and fair,The terror of death was not upon their faces.Our sister Mary, likewise, the meek woman,Has passed through martyrdom to her reward;Exclaiming, as they led her to her death,"These many days I've been in Paradise."And, when she died, Priest Wilson threw the hangmanHis handkerchief, to cover the pale faceHe dared not look upon.
EDITH.As persecuted,Yet not forsaken; as unknown, yet known;As dying, and behold we are alive;As sorrowful, and yet rejoicing always;As having nothing, yet possessing all!
WHARTON. And Leddra, too, is dead. But from his prison, The day before his death, he sent these words Unto the little flock of Christ: "What ever May come upon the followers of the Light,— Distress, affliction, famine, nakedness, Or perils in the city or the sea, Or persecution, or even death itself,— I am persuaded that God's armor of Light, As it is loved and lived in, will preserve you. Yea, death itself; through which you will find entrance Into the pleasant pastures of the fold, Where you shall feed forever as the herds That roam at large in the low valleys of Achor. And as the flowing of the ocean fills Each creek and branch thereof, and then retires, Leaving behind a sweet and wholesome savor; So doth the virtue and the life of God Flow evermore into the hearts of those Whom He hath made partakers of His nature; And, when it but withdraws itself a little, Leaves a sweet savor after it, that many Can say they are made clean by every word That He hath spoken to them in their silence."
EDITH (rising and breaking into a kind of chant). Truly we do but grope here in the dark, Near the partition-wall of Life and Death, At every moment dreading or desiring To lay our hands upon the unseen door! Let us, then, labor for an inward stillness,— An inward stillness and an inward healing; That perfect silence where the lips and heart Are still, and we no longer entertain Our own imperfect thoughts and vain opinions, But God alone speaks in us, and we wait In singleness of heart, that we may know His will, and in the silence of our spirits, That we may do His will, and do that only!
A long pause, interrupted by the sound of a drum approaching; then shouts in the street, and a loud knocking at the door.
MARSHAL. Within there! Open the door!
MERRY.Will no one answer?
MARSHAL. In the King's name! Within there!
MERRY.Open the door!
UPSALL (from the window). It is not barred. Come in. Nothing prevents you. The poor man's door is ever on the latch. He needs no bolt nor bar to shut out thieves; He fears no enemies, and has no friends Importunate enough to need a key.
Enter JOHN ENDICOTT, the MARSHAL, MERRY, and a crowd. Seeing the Quakers silent and unmoved, they pause, awe-struck. ENDICOTT opposite EDITH.
MARSHAL. In the King's name do I arrest you all! Away with them to prison. Master Upsall, You are again discovered harboring here These ranters and disturbers of the peace. You know the law.
UPSALL.I know it, and am readyTo suffer yet again its penalties.
EDITH (to ENDICOTT). Why dost thou persecute me, Saul of Tarsus?
JOHN ENDICOTT. "Why dost thou persecute me, Saul of Tarsus?" All night these words were ringing in mine ears! A sorrowful sweet face; a look that pierced me With meek reproach; a voice of resignation That had a life of suffering in its tone; And that was all! And yet I could not sleep, Or, when I slept, I dreamed that awful dream! I stood beneath the elm-tree on the Common, On which the Quakers have been hanged, and heard A voice, not hers, that cried amid the darkness, "This is Aceldama, the field of blood! I will have mercy, and not sacrifice!"
Opens the window and looks out.
The sun is up already; and my heartSickens and sinks within me when I thinkHow many tragedies will be enactedBefore his setting. As the earth rolls round,It seems to me a huge Ixion's wheel,Upon whose whirling spokes we are bound fast,And must go with it! Ah, how bright the sunStrikes on the sea and on the masts of vessels,That are uplifted, in the morning air,Like crosses of some peaceable crusade!It makes me long to sail for lands unknown,No matter whither! Under me, in shadow,Gloomy and narrow, lies the little town,Still sleeping, but to wake and toil awhile,Then sleep again. How dismal looks the prison,How grim and sombre in the sunless street,—The prison where she sleeps, or wakes and waitsFor what I dare not think of,—death, perhaps!A word that has been said may be unsaid:It is but air. But when a deed is doneIt cannot be undone, nor can our thoughtsReach out to all the mischiefs that may follow.'T is time for morning prayers. I will go down.My father, though severe, is kind and just;And when his heart is tender with devotion,—When from his lips have fallen the words, "Forgive usAs we forgive,"—then will I intercedeFor these poor people, and perhaps may save them.[Exit.
SCENE II. — Dock Square. On one side, the tavern of the Three Mariners. In the background, a quaint building with gables; and, beyond it, wharves and shipping. CAPTAIN KEMPTHORN and others seated at a table before the door. SAMUEL COLE standing near them.
KEMPTHORN. Come, drink about! Remember Parson Melham, And bless the man who first invented flip!
They drink.
COLE. Pray, Master Kempthorn, where were you last night?
KEMPTHORN. On board the Swallow, Simon Kempthorn, master, Up for Barbadoes, and the Windward Islands.
COLE. The town was in a tumult.
KEMPTHORN.And for what?
COLE. Your Quakers were arrested.
KEMPTHORN.How my Quakers?
COLE. These you brought in your vessel from Barbadoes. They made an uproar in the Meeting-house Yesterday, and they're now in prison for it. I owe you little thanks for bringing them To the Three Mariners.
KEMPTHORN.They have not harmed you.I tell you, Goodman Cole, that Quaker girlIs precious as a sea-bream's eye. I tell youIt was a lucky day when first she setHer little foot upon the Swallow's deck,Bringing good luck, fair winds, and pleasant weather.
COLE. I am a law-abiding citizen; I have a seat in the new Meeting-house, A cow-right on the Common; and, besides, Am corporal in the Great Artillery. I rid me of the vagabonds at once.
KEMPTHORN. Why should you not have Quakers at your tavern If you have fiddlers?
COLE.Never! never! never!If you want fiddling you must go elsewhere,To the Green Dragon and the Admiral Vernon,And other such disreputable places.But the Three Mariners is an orderly house,Most orderly, quiet, and respectable.Lord Leigh said he could be as quiet hereAs at the Governor's. And have I notKing Charles's Twelve Good Rules, all framed and glazed,Hanging in my best parlor?
KEMPTHORN.Here's a healthTo good King Charles. Will you not drink the King?Then drink confusion to old Parson Palmer.
COLE. And who is Parson Palmer? I don't know him.
KEMPTHORN. He had his cellar underneath his pulpit, And so preached o'er his liquor, just as you do.
A drum within.
COLE. Here comes the Marshal.
MERRY (within).Make room for the Marshal.
KEMPTHORN. How pompous and imposing he appears! His great buff doublet bellying like a mainsail, And all his streamers fluttering in the wind. What holds he in his hand?
COLE.A proclamation.
Enter the MARSHAL, with a proclamation; and MERRY, with a halberd. They are preceded by a drummer, and followed by the hangman, with an armful of books, and a crowd of people, among whom are UPSALL and JOHN ENDICOTT. A pile is made of the books.
MERRY. Silence, the drum! Good citizens, attend To the new laws enacted by the Court.
MARSHAL (reads). "Whereas a cursed sect of Heretics Has lately risen, commonly called Quakers, Who take upon themselves to be commissioned Immediately of God, and furthermore Infallibly assisted by the Spirit To write and utter blasphemous opinions, Despising Government and the order of God In Church and Commonwealth, and speaking evil Of Dignities, reproaching and reviling The Magistrates and Ministers, and seeking To turn the people from their faith, and thus Gain proselytes to their pernicious ways;— This Court, considering the premises, And to prevent like mischief as is wrought By their means in our land, doth hereby order, That whatsoever master or commander Of any ship, bark, pink, or catch shall bring To any roadstead, harbor, creek, or cove Within this Jurisdiction any Quakers, Or other blasphemous Heretics, shall pay Unto the Treasurer of the Commonwealth One hundred pounds, and for default thereof Be put in prison, and continue there Till the said sum be satisfied and paid."
COLE. Now, Simon Kempthorn, what say you to that?
KEMPTHORN. I pray you, Cole, lend me a hundred pounds!
MARSHAL (reads). "If any one within this Jurisdiction Shall henceforth entertain, or shall conceal Quakers or other blasphemous Heretics, Knowing them so to be, every such person Shall forfeit to the country forty shillings For each hour's entertainment or concealment, And shall be sent to prison, as aforesaid, Until the forfeiture be wholly paid!"
Murmurs in the crowd.
KEMPTHORN. Now, Goodman Cole, I think your turn has come!
COLE. Knowing them so to be!
KEMPTHORN.At forty shillingsThe hour, your fine will be some forty pounds!
COLE. Knowing them so to be! That is the law.
MARSHAL (reads). "And it is further ordered and enacted, If any Quaker or Quakers shall presume To come henceforth into this Jurisdiction, Every male Quaker for the first offence Shall have one ear cut off; and shall be kept At labor in the Workhouse, till such time As he be sent away at his own charge. And for the repetition of the offence Shall have his other ear cut off, and then Be branded in the palm of his right hand. And every woman Quaker shall be whipt Severely in three towns; and every Quaker, Or he or she, that shall for a third time Herein again offend, shall have their tongues Bored through with a hot iron, and shall be Sentenced to Banishment on pain of Death."
Loud murmurs. The voice of CHRISTISON in the crowd.
O patience of the Lord! How long, how long, Ere thou avenge the blood of Thine Elect?
MERRY. Silence, there, silence! Do not break the peace!
MARSHAL (reads). "Every inhabitant of this Jurisdiction Who shall defend the horrible opinions Of Quakers, by denying due respect To equals and superiors, and withdrawing From Church Assemblies, and thereby approving The abusive and destructive practices Of this accursed sect, in opposition To all the orthodox received opinions Of godly men shall be forthwith commit ted Unto close prison for one month; and then Refusing to retract and to reform The opinions as aforesaid, he shall be Sentenced to Banishment on pain of Death. By the Court. Edward Rawson, Secretary." Now, hangman, do your duty. Burn those books.
Loud murmurs in the crowd. The pile of books is lighted.
UPSALL. I testify against these cruel laws! Forerunners are they of some judgment on us; And, in the love and tenderness I bear Unto this town and people, I beseech you, O Magistrates, take heed, lest ye be found As fighters against God!
JOHN ENDICOTT (taking UPSALL'S hand). Upsall, I thank you For speaking words such as some younger man, I, or another, should have said before you. Such laws as these are cruel and oppressive; A blot on this fair town, and a disgrace To any Christian people.
MERRY (aside, listening behind them).Here's sedition!I never thought that any good would comeOf this young popinjay, with his long hairAnd his great boots, fit only for the RussiansOr barbarous Indians, as his father says!
THE VOICE. Woe to the bloody town! And rightfully Men call it the Lost Town! The blood of Abel Cries from the ground, and at the final judgment The Lord will say, "Cain, Cain! Where is thy brother?"
MERRY. Silence there in the crowd!
UPSALL (aside).'T is Christison!
THE VOICE. O foolish people, ye that think to burn And to consume the truth of God, I tell you That every flame is a loud tongue of fire To publish it abroad to all the world Louder than tongues of men!
KEMPTHORN (springing to his feet).Well said, my hearty!There's a brave fellow! There's a man of pluck!A man who's not afraid to say his say,Though a whole town's against him. Rain, rain, rain,Bones of St. Botolph, and put out this fire!
The drum beats. Exeunt all but MERRY, KEMPTHORN, and COLE.
MERRY. And now that matter's ended, Goodman Cole, Fetch me a mug of ale, your strongest ale.
KEMPTHORN (sitting down).And me another mug of flip; and putTwo gills of brandy in it.[Exit COLE.
MERRY.No; no more.Not a drop more, I say. You've had enough.
KEMPTHORN. And who are you, sir?
MERRY.I'm a Tithing-man,And Merry is my name.
KEMPTHORN.A merry name!I like it; and I'll drink your merry healthTill all is blue.
MERRY.And then you will be clappedInto the stocks, with the red letter DHung round about your neck for drunkenness.You're a free-drinker,—yes, and a free-thinker!
KEMPTHORN. And you are Andrew Merry, or Merry Andrew.
MERRY. My name is Walter Merry, and not Andrew.
KEMPTHORN. Andrew or Walter, you're a merry fellow; I'll swear to that.
MERRY.No swearing, let me tell you.The other day one Shorthose had his tonguePut into a cleft stick for profane swearing.
COLE brings the ale.
KEMPTHORN. Well, where's my flip? As sure as my name's Kempthorn—
MERRY. Is your name Kempthorn?
KEMPTHORN.That's the name I go by.
MERRY. What, Captain Simon Kempthorn of the Swallow?
KEMPTHORN. No other.
MERRY (touching him on the shoulder).Then you're wanted. I arrest youIn the King's name.
KEMPTHORN.And where's your warrant?
MERRY (unfolding a paper, and reading).Here.Listen to me. "Hereby you are required,In the King's name, to apprehend the bodyOf Simon Kempthorn, mariner, and himSafely to bring before me, there to answerAll such objections as are laid to him,Touching the Quakers." Signed, John Endicott.
KEMPTHORN. Has it the Governor's seal?
MERRY.Ay, here it is.
KEMPTHORN. Death's head and cross-bones. That's a pirate's flag!
MERRY. Beware how you revile the Magistrates; You may be whipped for that.
KEMPTHORN.Then mum's the word.
Exeunt MERRY and KEMPTHORN.
COLE.There's mischief brewing! Sure, there's mischief brewing.I feel like Master Josselyn when he foundThe hornet's nest, and thought it some strange fruit,Until the seeds came out, and then he dropped it.[Exit.
Scene III. — A room in the Governor's house, Enter GOVERNOR ENDICOTT and MERRY.
ENDICOTT. My son, you say?
MERRY.Your Worship's eldest son.
ENDICOTT. Speaking against the laws?
MERRY.Ay, worshipful sir.
ENDICOTT. And in the public market-place?
MERRY.I saw himWith my own eyes, heard him with my own ears.
ENDICOTT. Impossible!
MERRY.He stood there in the crowdWith Nicholas Upsall, when the laws were readTo-day against the Quakers, and I heard himDenounce and vilipend them as unjust,And cruel, wicked, and abominable.
ENDICOTT. Ungrateful son! O God! thou layest upon me A burden heavier than I can bear! Surely the power of Satan must be great Upon the earth, if even the elect Are thus deceived and fall away from grace!
MERRY. Worshipful sir! I meant no harm—
ENDICOTT.'T is well.You've done your duty, though you've done it roughly,And every word you've uttered since you cameHas stabbed me to the heart!
MERRY.I do beseechYour Worship's pardon!
ENDICOTT.He whom I have nurturedAnd brought up in the reverence of the Lord!The child of all my hopes and my affections!He upon whom I leaned as a sure staffFor my old age! It is God's chastisementFor leaning upon any arm but His!
MERRY. Your Worship!—
ENDICOTT.And this comes from holding parleyWith the delusions and deceits of Satan.At once, forever, must they be crushed out,Or all the land will reek with heresy!Pray, have you any children?
MERRY.No, not any.
ENDICOTT. Thank God for that. He has delivered you From a great care. Enough; my private griefs Too long have kept me from the public service.
Exit MERRY, ENDICOTT seats himself at the table and arranges his papers.
The hour has come; and I am eager now To sit in judgment on these Heretics.
A knock.
Come in. Who is it? (Not looking up).
JOHN ENDICOTT.It is I.
ENDICOTT (restraining himself).Sit down!
JOHN ENDICOTT (sitting down). I come to intercede for these poor people Who are in prison, and await their trial.
ENDICOTT. It is of them I wished to speak with you. I have been angry with you, but 't is passed. For when I hear your footsteps come or go, See in your features your dead mother's face, And in your voice detect some tone of hers, All anger vanishes, and I remember The days that are no more, and come no more, When as a child you sat upon my knee, And prattled of your playthings, and the games You played among the pear trees in the orchard!
JOHN ENDICOTT. Oh, let the memory of my noble mother Plead with you to be mild and merciful! For mercy more becomes a Magistrate Than the vindictive wrath which men call justice!
ENDICOTT. The sin of heresy is a deadly sin. 'T is like the falling of the snow, whose crystals The traveller plays with, thoughtless of his danger, Until he sees the air so full of light That it is dark; and blindly staggering onward, Lost and bewildered, he sits down to rest; There falls a pleasant drowsiness upon him, And what he thinks is sleep, alas! is death.
JOHN ENDICOTT. And yet who is there that has never doubted? And doubting and believing, has not said, "Lord, I believe; help thou my unbelief"?
ENDICOTT. In the same way we trifle with our doubts, Whose shining shapes are like the stars descending; Until at last, bewildered and dismayed, Blinded by that which seemed to give us light, We sink to sleep, and find that it is death,
Rising.
Death to the soul through all eternity! Alas that I should see you growing up To man's estate, and in the admonition And nurture of the law, to find you now Pleading for Heretics!
JOHN ENDICOTT (rising).In the sight of God,Perhaps all men are Heretics. Who daresTo say that he alone has found the truth?We cannot always feel and think and actAs those who go before us. Had you done so,You would not now be here.
ENDICOTT.Have you forgottenThe doom of Heretics, and the fate of thoseWho aid and comfort them? Have you forgottenThat in the market-place this very dayYou trampled on the laws? What right have you,An inexperienced and untravelled youth,To sit in judgment here upon the actsOf older men and wiser than yourself,Thus stirring up sedition in the streets,And making me a byword and a jest?
JOHN ENDICOTT. Words of an inexperienced youth like me Were powerless if the acts of older men Were not before them. 'T is these laws themselves Stir up sedition, not my judgment of them.
ENDICOTT. Take heed, lest I be called, as Brutus was, To be the judge of my own son. Begone! When you are tired of feeding upon husks, Return again to duty and submission, But not till then.
JOHN ENDICOTT.I hear and I obey![Exit.ENDICOTT.Oh happy, happy they who have no children!He's gone! I hear the hall door shut behind him.It sends a dismal echo through my heart,As if forever it had closed between us,And I should look upon his face no more!Oh, this will drag me down into my grave,—To that eternal resting-place whereinMan lieth down, and riseth not again!Till the heavens be no more, he shall not wake,Nor be roused from his sleep; for Thou dost changeHis countenance and sendest him away![Exit.
SCENE I. — The Court of Assistants, ENDICOTT, BELLINGHAM, ATHERTON, and other magistrates. KEMPTHORN, MERRY, and constables. Afterwards WHARTON, EDITH, and CHRISTISON.
ENDICOTT. Call Captain Simon Kempthorn.
MERRY.Simon Kempthorn,Come to the bar!
KEMPTHORN comes forward.
ENDICOTT.You are accused of bringingInto this Jurisdiction, from Barbadoes,Some persons of that sort and sect of peopleKnown by the name of Quakers, and maintainingMost dangerous and heretical opinions,Purposely coming here to propagateTheir heresies and errors; bringing with themAnd spreading sundry books here, which containTheir doctrines most corrupt and blasphemous,And contrary to the truth professed among us.What say you to this charge?
KEMPTHORN.
I do acknowledge,Among the passengers on board the SwallowWere certain persons saying Thee and Thou.They seemed a harmless people, mostways silent,Particularly when they said their prayers.
ENDICOTT. Harmless and silent as the pestilence! You'd better have brought the fever or the plague Among us in your ship! Therefore, this Court, For preservation of the Peace and Truth, Hereby commands you speedily to transport, Or cause to be transported speedily, The aforesaid persons hence unto Barbadoes, From whence they came; you paying all the charges Of their imprisonment.
KEMPTHORN.Worshipful sir,No ship e'er prospered that has carried QuakersAgainst their will! I knew a vessel once—
ENDICOTT. And for the more effectual performance Hereof you are to give security In bonds amounting to one hundred pounds. On your refusal, you will be committed To prison till you do it.
KEMPTHORN.But you seeI cannot do it. The law, sir, of BarbadoesForbids the landing Quakers on the island.
ENDICOTT. Then you will be committed. Who comes next?
MERRY. There is another charge against the Captain.
ENDICOTT. What is it?
MERRY. Profane swearing, please your Worship. He cursed and swore from Dock Square to the Court-house,
ENDICOTT. Then let him stand in the pillory for one hour.
[Exit KEMPTHORN with constable.
Who's next?
MERRY.The Quakers.
ENDICOTT.Call them.
MERRY.Edward Wharton,Come to the bar!
WHARTON.Yea, even to the bench.
ENDICOTT. Take off your hat.
WHARTON.My hat offendeth not.If it offendeth any, let him take it;For I shall not resist.
ENDICOTT.Take off his hat.Let him be fined ten shillings for contempt.
MERRY takes off WHARTON'S hat.
WHARTON. What evil have I done?
ENDICOTT.Your hair's too long;And in not putting off your hat to usYou've disobeyed and broken that commandmentWhich sayeth "Honor thy father and thy mother."
WHARTON. John Endicott, thou art become too proud; And loved him who putteth off the hat, And honoreth thee by bowing of the body, And sayeth "Worshipful sir!" 'T is time for thee To give such follies over, for thou mayest Be drawing very near unto thy grave.
ENDICOTT. Now, sirrah, leave your canting. Take the oath.
WHARTON. Nay, sirrah me no sirrahs!