No More Learning

ENDICOTT.
He whom I have nurtured
And 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 staff
For my old age! It is God's chastisement
For leaning upon any arm but His!

MERRY.
Your Worship! --

ENDICOTT.
And this comes from holding parley
With 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 dares
To say that he alone has found the truth?
We cannot always feel and think and act
As those who go before us. Had you done so,
You would not now be here.

ENDICOTT.
Have you forgotten
The doom of Heretics, and the fate of those
Who aid and comfort them? Have you forgotten
That in the market-place this very day
You trampled on the laws? What right have you,
An inexperienced and untravelled youth,
To sit in judgment here upon the acts
Of 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 wherein
Man 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 change
His 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 bringing
Into this Jurisdiction, from Barbadoes,
Some persons of that sort and sect of people
Known by the name of Quakers, and maintaining
Most dangerous and heretical opinions,
Purposely coming here to propagate
Their heresies and errors; bringing with them
And spreading sundry books here, which contain
Their 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 Swallow
Were 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 Quakers
Against 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 see
I cannot do it. The law, sir, of Barbadoes
Forbids 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 us
You've disobeyed and broken that commandment
Which 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!

ENDICOTT.
Will you swear?

WHARTON.
Nay, I will not.

ENDICOTT.
You made a great disturbance
And uproar yesterday in the Meeting-house,
Having your hat on.

WHARTON.
I made no disturbance;
For peacefully I stood, like other people.
I spake no words; moved against none my hand;
But by the hair they haled me out, and dashed
Their hooks into my face.

ENDICOTT.
You, Edward Wharton,
On pain of death, depart this Jurisdiction
Within ten days. Such is your sentence. Go.

WHARTON.
John Endicott, it had been well for thee
If this day's doings thou hadst left undone
But, banish me as far as thou hast power,
Beyond the guard and presence of my God
Thou canst not banish me.

ENDICOTT.
Depart the Court;
We have no time to listen to your babble.
Who's next? [Exit WHARTON.

MERRY.
This woman, for the same offence.

EDITH comes forward.

ENDICOTT.
What is your name?

EDITH.
'T is to the world unknown,
But written in the Book of Life.

ENDICOTT.
Take heed
It be not written in the Book of Death!
What is it?

EDITH.
Edith Christison.

ENDICOTT (with eagerness).
The daughter
Of Wenlock Christison?

EDITH.
I am his daughter.

ENDICOTT.
Your father hath given us trouble many times.
A bold man and a violent, who sets
At naught the authority of our Church and State,
And is in banishment on pain of death.
Where are you living?

EDITH.
In the Lord.

ENDICOTT.
Make answer
Without evasion. Where?

EDITH.
My outward being
Is in Barbadoes.

ENDICOTT.
Then why come you here?

EDITH.
I come upon an errand of the Lord.

ENDICOTT.
'Tis not the business of the Lord you're doing;
It is the Devil's. Will you take the oath?
Give her the Book.

MERRY offers the Book.

EDITH.
You offer me this Book
To swear on; and it saith, "Swear not at all,
Neither by heaven, because it is God's Throne,
Nor by the earth, because it is his footstool! "
I dare not swear.

ENDICOTT.
You dare not? Yet you Quakers
Deny this book of Holy Writ, the Bible,
To be the Word of God.

EDITH (reverentially).
Christ is the Word,
The everlasting oath of God. I dare not.

ENDICOTT.
You own yourself a Quaker,--do you not?

EDITH.
I own that in derision and reproach
I am so called.

ENDICOTT.
Then you deny the Scripture
To be the rule of life.

EDITH.
Yea, I believe
The Inner Light, and not the Written Word,
To be the rule of life.

ENDICOTT.
And you deny
That the Lord's Day is holy.

EDITH.
Every day
Is the Lords Day. It runs through all our lives,
As through the pages of the Holy Bible,
"Thus saith the Lord. "

ENDICOTT.
You are accused of making
An horrible disturbance, and affrighting
The people in the Meeting-house on Sunday.
What answer make you?

EDITH.
I do not deny
That I was present in your Steeple-house
On the First Day; but I made no disturbance.

ENDICOTT.
Why came you there?

EDITH.
Because the Lord commanded.
His word was in my heart, a burning fire
Shut up within me and consuming me,
And I was very weary with forbearing;
I could not stay.

ENDICOTT.
'T was not the Lord that sent you;
As an incarnate devil did you come!

EDITH.
On the First Day, when, seated in my chamber,
I heard the bells toll, calling you together,
The sound struck at my life, as once at his,
The holy man, our Founder, when he heard
The far-off bells toll in the Vale of Beavor.
It sounded like a market bell to call
The folk together, that the Priest might set
His wares to sale. And the Lord said within me,
"Thou must go cry aloud against that Idol,
And all the worshippers thereof. " I went
Barefooted, clad in sackcloth, and I stood
And listened at the threshold; and I heard
The praying and the singing and the preaching,
Which were but outward forms, and without power.
Then rose a cry within me, and my heart
Was filled with admonitions and reproofs.
Remembering how the Prophets and Apostles
Denounced the covetous hirelings and diviners,
I entered in, and spake the words the Lord
Commanded me to speak. I could no less.

ENDICOTT.
Are you a Prophetess?

EDITH.
Is it not written,
"Upon my handmaidens will I pour out
My spirit, and they shall prophesy"?

ENDICOTT.
Enough;
For out of your own mouth are you condemned!
Need we hear further?

THE JUDGES.
We are satisfied.

ENDICOTT.
It is sufficient. Edith Christison,
The sentence of the Court is, that you be
Scourged in three towns, with forty stripes save one,
Then banished upon pain of death!

EDITH.
Your sentence
Is truly no more terrible to me
Than had you blown a feather into the the air,
And, as it fell upon me, you had said,
Take heed it hurt thee not! God's will he done!

WENLOCK CHRISTISON (unseen in the crowd).
Woe to the city of blood! The stone shall cry
Out of the wall; the beam from out the timber
Shall answer it! Woe unto him that buildeth
A town with blood, and stablisheth a city
By his iniquity!

ENDICOTT.
Who is it makes
Such outcry here?

CHRISTISON (coming forward).
I, Wenlock Christison!

ENDICOTT.
Banished on pain of death, why come you here?

CHRISTISON.
I come to warn you that you shed no more
The blood of innocent men! It cries aloud
For vengeance to the Lord!

ENDICOTT.
Your life is forfeit
Unto the law; and you shall surely die,
And shall not live.

CHRISTISON.
Like unto Eleazer,
Maintaining the excellence of ancient years
And the honor of his gray head, I stand before you;
Like him disdaining all hypocrisy,
Lest, through desire to live a little longer,
I get a stain to my old age and name!

ENDICOTT.
Being in banishment, on pain of death,
You come now in among us in rebellion.

CHRISTISON.
I come not in among you in rebellion,
But in obedience to the Lord of heaven.
Not in contempt to any Magistrate,
But only in the love I bear your souls,
As ye shall know hereafter, when all men
Give an account of deeds done in the body!
God's righteous judgments ye cannot escape.

ONE OF THE JUDGES.
Those who have gone before you said the same,
And yet no judgment of the Lord hath fallen
Upon us.

CHRISTISON.
He but waiteth till the measure
Of your iniquities shall be filled up,
And ye have run your race. Then will his wrath
Descend upon you to the uttermost!
For thy part, Humphrey Atherton, it hangs
Over thy head already. It shall come
Suddenly, as a thief doth in the night,
And in the hour when least thou thinkest of it!

ENDICOTT.
We have a law, and by that law you die.

CHRISTISON.
I, a free man of England and freeborn,
Appeal unto the laws of mine own nation!

ENDICOTT.
There's no appeal to England from this Court!
What! do you think our statutes are but paper?
Are but dead leaves that rustle in the wind?
Or litter to be trampled under foot?
What say ye, Judges of the Court,--what say ye?
Shall this man suffer death? Speak your opinions.

ONE OF THE JUDGES.
I am a mortal man, and die I must,
And that erelong; and I must then appear
Before the awful judgment-seat of Christ,
To give account of deeds done in the body.
My greatest glory on that day will be,
That I have given my vote against this man.

CHRISTISON.
If, Thomas Danforth, thou hast nothing more
To glory in upon that dreadful day
Than blood of innocent people, then thy glory
Will be turned into shame! The Lord hath said it!

ANOTHER JUDGE.
I cannot give consent, while other men
Who have been banished upon pain of death
Are now in their own houses here among us.

ENDICOTT.
Ye that will not consent, make record of it.
I thank my God that I am not afraid
To give my judgment. Wenlock Christison,
You must be taken back from hence to prison,
Thence to the place of public execution,
There to be hanged till you be dead--dead,--dead.

CHRISTISON.
If ye have power to take my life from me,--
Which I do question,--God hath power to raise
The principle of life in other men,
And send them here among you. There shall be
No peace unto the wicked, saith my God.
Listen, ye Magistrates, for the Lord hath said it!
The day ye put his servitors to death,
That day the Day of your own Visitation,
The Day of Wrath shall pass above your heads,
And ye shall be accursed forevermore!

To EDITH, embracing her.

Cheer up, dear heart! they have not power to harm us.

[Exeunt CHRISTISON and EDITH guarded. The Scene closes.



SCENE II. -- A street. Enter JOHN ENDICOTT and UPSALL.

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.