No More Learning

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.
Thou hast the patience and the faith of Saints!

EDITH.
Thy Priest hath been with me this day to save me,
Not only from the death that comes to all,
But from the second death!

JOHN ENDICOTT.
The Pharisee!
My heart revolts against him and his creed!
Alas! the coat that was without a seam
Is rent asunder by contending sects;
Each bears away a portion of the garment,
Blindly believing that he has the whole!

EDITH.
When Death, the Healer, shall have touched our eyes
With moist clay of the grave, then shall we see
The truth as we have never yet beheld it.
But he that overcometh shall not be
Hurt of the second death. Has he forgotten
The many mansions in our father's house?

JOHN ENDICOTT.
There is no pity in his iron heart!
The hands that now bear stamped upon their palms
The burning sign of Heresy, hereafter
Shall be uplifted against such accusers,
And then the imprinted letter and its meaning
Will not be Heresy, but Holiness!

EDITH.
Remember, thou condemnest thine own father!

JOHN ENDICOTT.
I have no father! He has cast me off.
I am as homeless as the wind that moans
And wanders through the streets. Oh, come with me!
Do not delay. Thy God shall be my God,
And where thou goest I will go.

EDITH.
I cannot.
Yet will I not deny it, nor conceal it;
From the first moment I beheld thy face
I felt a tenderness in my soul towards thee.
My mind has since been inward to the Lord,
Waiting his word. It has not yet been spoken.

JOHN ENDICOTT.
I cannot wait. Trust me. Oh, come with me!

EDITH.
In the next room, my father, an old man,
Sitteth imprisoned and condemned to death,
Willing to prove his faith by martyrdom;
And thinkest thou his daughter would do less?

JOHN ENDICOTT.
Oh, life is sweet, and death is terrible!

EDITH.
I have too long walked hand in hand with death
To shudder at that pale familiar face.
But leave me now. I wish to be alone.

JOHN ENDICOTT.
Not yet. Oh, let me stay.

EDITH.
Urge me no more.

JOHN ENDICOTT.
Alas! good-night. I will not say good-by!

EDITH.
Put this temptation underneath thy feet.
To him that overcometh shall be given
The white stone with the new name written on it,
That no man knows save him that doth receive it,
And I will give thee a new name, and call thee
Paul of Damascus, and not Saul of Tarsus.

[Exit ENDICOTT. EDITH sits down again to read the Bible.


ACT IV.

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.

Good Master Merry, may I say confound?

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.

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 pounds sterling,--just enough
To settle his own bill.

KEMPTHORN.
And served him right;
But, Master Merry, is it not eight bells?

MERRY.
Not quite.

KEMPTHORN.
For, do you see? I'm getting tired
Of being perched aloft here in this cro' nest
Like the first mate of a whaler, or a Middy
Mast-headed, looking out for land! Sail ho!
Here comes a heavy-laden merchant-man
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.

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 bow-line,--
Deacon Giles Firmin the apothecary,
A pious and a ponderous citizen,
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!
He's not a man to pass me without speaking.

COLE looks away and passes.

Don't 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?
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,
And without chafing-gear.

GOLDSMITH.
And what's it for?

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.

GOLDSMITH.
I pray you set him free; he meant no harm;
'T is an old habit he picked up afloat.

MERRY.
Well, as your time is out, you may come down,
The law allows you now to go at large
Like Elder Oliver's horse upon the Common.

KEMPTHORN.
Now, hearties, bear a hand! Let go and haul.

KEMPTHORN is set free, and comes forward, shaking GOLDSMITH'S
hand.

KEMPTHORN.
Give me your hand, Ralph. Ah, how good it feels!
The hand of an old friend.

GOLDSMITH.
God bless you, Simon!

KEMPTHORN.
Now let us make a straight wake for the tavern
Of the Three Mariners, Samuel Cole commander;
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 despatches. Come with me.

KEMPTHORN.
I'd rather not. I saw him yesterday.

GOLDSMITH.
Then wait for me at the Three Nuns and Comb.

KEMPTHORN.
I thank you. That's too near to the town pump.
I will go with you to the Governor's,
And wait outside there, sailing off and on;
If I am wanted, you can hoist a signal.

MERRY.
Shall I go with you and point out the way?

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.

KEMPTHORN.
Ralph, I am under bonds for a hundred pound.

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 don't clearly see,
For one of them is banished, and another
Is sentenced to be hanged! What shall I do?

GOLDSMITH.
Just slip your hawser on some cloudy night;
Sheer off, and pay it with the topsail, Simon!
[Exeunt.


SCENE II. -- Street in front of the prison. In the background a
gateway and several flights of steps leading up terraces to the
Governor's 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!

JOHN ENDICOTT.
A woman scourged and dragged about our streets!

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!
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.

EDITH.
Here let me rest one moment. I am tired.
Will some one give me water?

MERRY.
At his peril.

UPSALL.
Alas! that I should live to see this day!

A WOMAN.
Did I forsake my father and my mother
And come here to New England to see this?

EDITH.
I am athirst. Will no one give me water?

JOHN ENDICOTT (making his way through the crowd with water).
In the Lord's name!

EDITH (drinking.

In his name I receive it!
Sweet as the water of Samaria's well
This water tastes. I thank thee. Is it thou?
I was afraid thou hadst deserted me.

JOHN ENDICOTT.
Never will I desert thee, nor deny thee.
Be comforted.

MERRY.
O Master Endicott,
Be careful what you say.

JOHN ENDICOTT.
Peace, idle babbler!

MERRY.
You'll rue these words!

JOHN ENDICOTT.
Art thou not better now?

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.

JOHN ENDICOTT.
O blood-red seal of man's vindictive wrath!
O roses in 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.

CHRISTISON.
Be of good courage, O my child! my child!
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.

A CITIZEN.
Who is it crying from the prison yonder.

MERRY.
It is old Wenlock Christison.

CHRISTISON.
Remember
Him who was scourged, and mocked, and crucified!
I see his messengers attending thee.
Be steadfast, oh, be steadfast to the end!

EDITH (with exultation).
I cannot reach thee with these arms, O father!
But closely in my soul do I embrace thee
And hold thee. In thy dungeon and thy death
I will be with thee, and will comfort thee.

MARSHAL.
Come, put an end to this. Let the drum beat.

The drum beats. Exeunt all but JOHN ENDICOTT, UPSALL, and MERRY.

CHRISTISON.
Dear child, farewell! Never shall I behold
Thy face again with these bleared eyes of flesh;
And never wast thou fairer, lovelier, dearer
Than now, when scourged and bleeding, and insulted
For the truth's sake. O pitiless, pitiless town!
The wrath of God hangs over thee; and the day
Is near at hand when thou shalt be abandoned
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!

JOHN ENDICOTT.
Awake! awake! ye sleepers, ere too late,
And wipe these bloody statutes from your books!
[Exit.

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.

ENDICOTT.
What is this stir and tumult in the street?

MERRY.
Worshipful sir, the whipping of a girl,
And her old father howling from the prison.

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!

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.

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.


SCENE III. -- The Governor's private room. Papers upon the
table.

ENDICOTT and BELLINGHAM

ENDICOTT.
There is a ship from England has come in,
Bringing despatches and much news from home,
His majesty was at the Abbey crowned;
And when the coronation was complete
There passed a mighty tempest o'er the city,
Portentous with great thunderings and lightnings.

BELLINGHAM.
After his father's, if I well remember,
There was an earthquake, that foreboded evil.

ENDICOTT.