Ah! Master Nicholas!

Good afternoon,Dear neighbor Walter.

Master Nicholas,You have to-day withdrawn yourself from meeting.

Yea, I have chosen rather to worship GodSitting in silence here at my own door.

Worship the Devil! You this day have brokenThree of our strictest laws. First, by abstainingFrom public worship. Secondly, by walkingProfanely on the Sabbath.

Not one step.I have been sitting still here, seeing the pigeonsFeed in the street and fly about the roofs.

You have been in the street with other intentThan going to and from the Meeting-house.And, thirdly, you are harboring Quakers here.I am amazed!

Men sometimes, it is said,Entertain angels unawares.

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.

Neighbor Walter,Your persecution is of no avail.

'T is prosecution, as the Governor says,Not persecution.

Well, your prosecution;Your hangings do no good.

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!

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.

William and Marmaduke, our martyred brothers,Sleep in untimely graves, if aught untimelyCan find place in the providence of God,Where nothing comes too early or too late.I saw their noble death. They to the scaffoldWalked hand in hand. Two hundred armed menAnd many horsemen guarded them, for fearOf rescue by the crowd, whose hearts were stirred.

O holy martyrs!

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.

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!

And Leddra, too, is dead. But from his prison,The day before his death, he sent these wordsUnto the little flock of Christ: "What everMay 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 entranceInto the pleasant pastures of the fold,Where you shall feed forever as the herdsThat roam at large in the low valleys of Achor.And as the flowing of the ocean fillsEach creek and branch thereof, and then retires,Leaving behind a sweet and wholesome savor;So doth the virtue and the life of GodFlow evermore into the hearts of thoseWhom He hath made partakers of His nature;And, when it but withdraws itself a little,Leaves a sweet savor after it, that manyCan say they are made clean by every wordThat 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 desiringTo 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 heartAre still, and we no longer entertainOur own imperfect thoughts and vain opinions,But God alone speaks in us, and we waitIn singleness of heart, that we may knowHis will, and in the silence of our spirits,That we may do His will, and do that only!

Within there! Open the door!

Will no one answer?

In the King's name! Within there!

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 friendsImportunate enough to need a key.

Enter JOHN ENDICOTT, the MARSHAL, MERRY, and a crowd. Seeing theQuakers silent and unmoved, they pause, awe-struck. ENDICOTTopposite EDITH.

In the King's name do I arrest you all!Away with them to prison. Master Upsall,You are again discovered harboring hereThese ranters and disturbers of the peace.You know the law.

I know it, and am readyTo suffer yet again its penalties.

EDITH (to ENDICOTT).Why dost thou persecute me, Saul of Tarsus?