SWINDON What?
BURGOYNE A demand for a safe-conduct for an officer of their militia to come here and arrange terms with us.
SWINDON Oh, they are giving in.
BURGOYNE They add that they are sending the man who raised Springtown last night and drove us out; so that we may know that we are dealing with an officer of importance.
SWINDON Pooh!
BURGOYNE He will be fully empowered to arrange the terms ofâguess what.
SWINDON Their surrender, I hope.
BURGOYNE No: our evacuation of the town. They offer us just six hours to clear out.
SWINDON What monstrous impudence!
BURGOYNE What shall we do, eh?
SWINDON March on Springtown and strike a decisive blow at once.
BURGOYNE
[quietly]
Hm!
[Turning to the door]
Come to the adjutant's office.
SWINDON What for?
BURGOYNE To write out that safe-conduct.
[He puts his hand to the door knob to open it].
SWINDON
[who has not budged]
General Burgoyne. BURGOYNE
(returning]
Sir?
SWINDON It is my duty to tell you, sir, that I do not consider the threats of a mob of rebellious tradesmen a sufficient reason for our giving way.
BURGOYNE
[imperturbable]
Suppose I resign my command to you, what will you do?
SWINDON I will undertake to do what we have marched south from Boston to do, and what General Howe has marched north from New York to do: effect a junction at Albany and wipe out the rebel army with our united forces.
BURGOYNE
[enigmatically]
And will you wipe out our enemies in London, too?
SWINDON In London! What enemies?
BURGOYNE [
forcibly
] Jobbery and snobbery, incompetence and Red Tape.
[He holds up the dispatch and adds, with despair in his face and voice]
I have just learnt, sir, that General Howe is still in New York.
SWINDON
[thunderstruck]
Good God! He has disobeyed orders!
BURGOYNE
[with sardonic calm]
He has received no orders, sir. Some gentleman in London forgot to dispatch them: he was leaving town for his holiday, I believe. To avoid upsetting his arrangements, England will lose her American colonies; and in a few days you and I will be at Saratoga with 5,000 men to face 6,000 rebels in an impregnable position.
SWINDON
[appalled]
Impossible!
BURGOYNE
[coldly]
I beg your pardon!
SWINDON I cant believe it! What will History say?
BURGOYNE History, sir, will tell lies, as usual. Come: we must send the safe-conduct.
[He goes out].
SWINDON
[following distractedly]
My God, my God! We shall be wiped out.
As noon approaches there is excitement in the marketplace. The gallows which hangs there permanently for the terror of evildoers, with such minor advertizers and examples of crime as the pillory, the whipping post, and the stocks, has a new rope attached, with the noose hitched up to one of the uprights, out of reach of the boys. Its ladder, too, has been brought out and placed in position by the town beadle, who stands by to guard it from unauthorized climbing. The Websterbridge townsfolk are present in force, and in high spirits; for the news has spread that it is the devil's disciple and not the minister that the Continentals [so they call BURGOYNE's forcesJ are about to hang: consequently the execution can be enjoyed without any misgiving as to its righteousness, or to the cowardice of allowing it to take place without a struggle. There is even some fear of a disappointment as midday approaches and the arrival of the beadle with the ladder remains the only sign of preparation. But at last reassuring shouts of Here they come: Here they are, are heard, and a company of soldiers with fixed bayonets, half British infantry, half HESSIANS, tramp quickly into the middle of the marketplace, driving the crowd to the sides.
THE SERGEANT Halt. Front. Dress.
[The soldiers change their column into a square enclosing the gallows, their petty officers, energetically led by the SERGEANT, hustling the persons who find themselves inside the square out at the corners].
Now then! Out of it with you: out of it. Some o youll get strung up yourselves presently. Form that square there, will you, you damned Hoosians. No use talkin German to them: talk to their toes with the butt ends of your muskets: theyll understand that. Get out of it, will you.
[He comes upon JUDITH, standing near the gallows
]
.
Now then: y o u v e no call here.
JUDITH May I not stay? What harm am I doing?
SERGEANT I want none of your argufying. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, running to see a man hanged thats not your husband. And he's no better than yourself. I told my major he was a gentleman; and then he goes and tries to strangle him, and calls his blessed Majesty a lunatic. So out of it with you, double quick.
JUDITH Will you take these two silver dollars and let me stay?
The SERGEANT, without an instant's hesitation, looks quickly and furtively round as he shoots the money dexterously into his pocket. Then he raises his voice in virtuous indignation.
THE SERGEANT Me take money in the execution of my duty! Certainly not. Now I'll tell you what I'll do, to teach you to corrupt the King's officer. I'll put you under arrest until the execution's over. You just stand there; and dont let me see you as much as move from that spot until youre let.
[With a swift wink at her he points to the corner of the square behind the gallows on his right, and turns noisily away, shouting]
Now then, dress up and keep em back, will you.
Cries of Hush and Silence are heard among the townsfolk; and the sound of a military band, playing the Dead March from Saul,
bz
is heard. The crowd becomes quiet at once; and the SERGEANT and petty officers, hurrying to the back of the square, with a few whispered orders and some stealthy hustling cause it to open and admit the funeral procession, which
is
protected from the crowd by a double file of soldiers. First come BURGOYNE and
SWINDON,
who, on entering the square, glance with distaste at the gallows, and avoid passing under it by wheeling a little to the right and stationing themselves on that side. Then MR. BRUDENELL, the chaplain, in his surplice, with his prayer book open in his hand, walking beside RICHARD, who is moody and disorderly. He walks doggedly through the gallows framework, and posts himself a little in front of it. Behind him comes the executioner, a stalwart soldier in his shirtsleeves. Following him, two soldiers haul a light military waggon. Finally
comes the band, which posts itself at the back of the square, and finishes the Dead March.JUDITH, watching RICHARD painfully, steals down to the gallows, and stands leaning against its right post. During the conversation which follows, the two soldiers place the cart under the gallows, and stand by the shafts, which point backwards. The executioner takes a set of steps from the cart and places it ready for the prisoner to mount. Then he climbs the tall ladder which stands against the gallows, and cuts the string by which the rope is hitched up; so that the noose drops dangling over the cart, into which he steps as he descends.
RICHARD [
with suppressed impatience, to BRUDENELL]
Look here, sir: this is no place for a man of your profession. Hadnt you better go away?
SWINDON I appeal to you, prisoner, if you have any sense of decency left, to listen to the ministrations of the chaplain, and pay due heed to the solemnity of the occasion.
THE CHAPLAIN
[gently reproving RICHARD]
Try to control yourself, and submit to the divine will.
[He lifts his book to proceed with the service].
RICHARD Answer for your own will, sir, and those of your accomplices here
[indicating BURGOYNE and SWINDON]:
I see little divinity about them or you. You talk to me of Christianity when you are in the act of hanging your enemies. Was there ever such blasphemous nonsense! [To
SWINDON, more rudely]
Youve got up the solemnity of the occasion, as you call it, to impress the people with your own dignity-Handel's music and a clergyman to make murder look like piety! Do you suppose I am going to help you? Youve asked me to choose the rope because you dont know your own trade well enough to shoot me properly. Well, hang away and have done with it.
SWINDON
[to the CHAPLAIN]
Can you do nothing with him, Mr. Brudenell?
CHAPLAIN I will try, sir.
[Beginning to read]
Man that is born of woman hathâ
RICHARD
[fixing his eyes on him]
“Thou shalt not kill.”
The book drops in BRUDENELL's hands.
CHAPLAIN
[confessing his embarrassment]
What am I to say, Mr. Dudgeon?
RICHARD Let me alone, man, cant you?
BURGOYNE
[with extreme urbanity]
I think, Mr. Brudenell, that as the usual professional observations seem to strike Mr. Dudgeon as incongruous under the circumstances, you had better omit them untilâerâuntil Mr. Dudgeon can no longer be inconvenienced by them. [BRUDENELL,
with a shrug, shuts his book and retires behind the gallows].
You seem in a hurry, Mr. Dudgeon.
RICHARD
[with the horror of death upon him]
Do you think this is a pleasant sort of thing to be kept waiting for? You've made up your mind to commit murder: well, do it and have done with it.
BURGOYNE Mr. Dudgeon: we are only doing thisâ
RICHARD Because youre paid to do it.
SWINDON You insolentâ
[he swallows his rage].
BURGOYNE
[with much charm of manner]
Ah, I am really sorry that you should think that, Mr. Dudgeon. If you knew what my commission cost me, and what my pay is, you would think better of me. I should be glad to part from you on friendly terms.
RICHARD Hark ye, General Burgoyne. If you think that I like being hanged, youre mistaken. I dont like it; and I dont mean to pretend that I do. And if you think I'm obliged to you for hanging me in a gentlemanly way, youre wrong there too. I take the whole business in devilish bad part; and the only satisfaction I have in it is that youll feel a good deal meaner than I'll look when it's over.
[He turns away, and is striding to the cart when JUDITH advances and interposes with her arms stretched out to him. RICHARD, feeling that a very little will upset his self-possession, shrinks from her, crying]
What are you doing here? This is no place for you.
[She makes a gesture as if to touch him. He recoils impatiently.
No: go away, go away; youll unnerve me. Take her away, will you.
JUDITH Wont you bid me good-bye?
RICHARD
[allowing her to take his hand]
Oh good-bye, good-bye. Now goâgoâquickly,
[She clings to his hand
â
will not be put Off with so cold a last farewell
â
at last, as he tries to disengage himself, throws herself on his breast in agony].
SWINDON
[angrily to the SERGEANT, who, alarmed at JUDITH's movement, has come from the back of the square to pull her back, and stopped irresolutely on finding that he is too late]
How is this? Why is she inside the lines?
SERGEANT [
guiltily
] I dunno, sir. She's that artfulâcant keep her away.
BURGOYNE You were bribed.
SERGEANT
[protesting]
No, sirâ
SWINDON
[severely]
Fall back.
[He obeys].
RICHARD [
imploringly to those around him, and finally to BURGOYNE, as the least stolid of them]
Take her away. Do you think I want a woman near me now?
BURGOYNE
[going to JUDITH and taking her hand]
Here, madam: you had better keep inside the lines; but stand here behind us; and dont look.
RICHARD, with a great sobbing sigh of relief as she releases him and turns to BURGOYNE, flies for refuge to the cart and mounts into it. The executioner takes off his coat and pinions him.
JUDITH
[resisting BURGOYNE quietly and drawing her hand away]
No: I must stay. I wont look.
[She goes to the right of the gallows. She tries to look at RICHARD, but turns away with a frightful shudder, and falls on her knees in prayer. BRUDENELL comes towards her from the back of the square].
BURGOYNE
[nodding approvingly as she kneels]
Ah, quite so. Do not disturb her, Mr. Brudenell: that will do very nicely.
[BRUDENELL nods also, and withdraws a little, watching her sympathetically. BURGOYNE resumes his former position, and takes out a handsome gold chronometer
]
.
Now then, are those preparations made? We must not detain Mr. Dudgeon.
By this time RICHARD's hands are bound behind him; and the noose is round his neck. The two soldiers take the shaft of the waggon, ready to pull it away. The executioner, standing in the cart behind RICHARD, makes a sign to the SERGEANT.
SERGEANT
[to BURGOYNE]
Ready, sir.
BURGOYNE Have you anything more to say, Mr. Dudgeon? It wants two minutes of twelve still.
RICHARD
[in the strong voice of a man who has conquered the bitterness of death]
Your watch is two minutes slow by the town clock, which I can see from here, General,
[The town clock strikes the first stroke of twelve. Involuntarily the people, flinch at the sound, and a subdued groan breaks from them].
Amen! my life for the world's future!
ANDERSON
[shouting as he rushes into the marketplace]
Amen; and stop the execution.
[He bursts through the line of soldiers opposite BURGOYNE, and rushes, panting, to the gallows].
I am Anthony Anderson, the man you want.
The crowd, intensely excited, listens with all its ears. JUDITH, half rising, stares at him; then lifts her hands like one whose dearest prayer has been granted.