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.