THE 
 
 KING'S JUDGES. 
 
 An Original Comedy 
 
 IN FOUR ACTS 
 
 -BY- 
 
 EDWARD GRIMM 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO: 
 
 James H. Barry, Printer, 429 Montgomery Street. 
 
 1892. 
 
T H B 
 
 KING'S JUDGES 
 
 An Original Comedy 
 
 IN FOUR ACTS 
 
 -BY- 
 
 J 
 EDWARD GRIMM. 
 
 \ 
 
 JAN 37 '.292 
 
 2X_ 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO: 
 
 James H. Barry, Printer, 429 Montgomery Street. 
 
 1892. 
 
TSU r 
 
 SUBJECT. 
 
 Cromwell, who had governed England with greater 
 ability and higher merit than most of her kings, died in 
 1658 ; and, after an interval of two years, Charles II, 
 a prince destitute of honor and virtue, was recalled from 
 exile, and placed upon the throne. He was reluctantly 
 acknowledged by the Colonies of New England. They 
 had been the favorites of the Parliament and the Protec- 
 tor, and apprehended with good reason, the loss of their 
 civil and religious privileges. 
 
 A short time alter, Whalley and Goffe, two of the 
 judges who had sentenced Charles I to be beheaded, 
 having fled before the return of his successor, arrived in 
 New England. Their first place of residence was Cam- 
 bridge ; but they often appeared publicly in Boston, par- 
 ticularly on Sundays and other days of religious solemn- 
 ities. They had sustained high rank in Cromwell's 
 army; were men of uncommon talent, and, by their 
 dignified manners and grave deportment, commanded 
 universal respect. 
 
 As soon as it was known that they were excepted from 
 the general pardon, the Governor suggested to the Court 
 of Assistants the expediency of arresting them. A ma- 
 jority opposed it, and many members of the General 
 Court gave them assurance of protection. Considering 
 themselves, however, unsafe at Cambridge, they removed 
 to New Haven, where thev were received with great re- 
 spect by the clergy and magistrates. 
 
 After a short residence there, enjoying in private the 
 society of their friends, the Governor of Massachusetts 
 received a mandate to arrest them. A warrant was im- 
 mediately issued, authoriging two zealous royalists to 
 search for and seize them, wherever found, in New Eng- 
 land. They hastened to the colony of New Haven, ex- 
 hibited the warrant to the Governor, who resided at Guil- 
 ford, and requested him to furnish authority and assist- 
 ants to pursue them. Desirous of favoring the exiles, he 
 affected to deliberate until the next morning, and then 
 utterly declined acting officially, without the advice of 
 his council. 
 
 In the meantime they were apprised of^their danger, 
 and retired to a new place of concealment. ^The pur- 
 suers, on arriving at New Haven, searched every sus- 
 pected house, except the one where the Judges were 
 concealed. This they began to search, but they were in- 
 duced, by the address of the mistress of it, to ? desist. 
 When the pursuers had departed the Judges, retiring into 
 the woods, fixed their abode in a cave. — Hale's History 
 of the United States. 
 
 TMP92-009141 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONJE. 
 
 Will Gopfe, ) .. jr . , T , 
 Edw. Wh alley, \ the Km S s J ^ges. 
 Lambert, their friend. 
 Graham, a farmer. 
 Crocker, ") 
 Butler, | 
 
 Holmes^' j* citizens of New Haven. 
 
 Terrill, 
 
 Eraser, J 
 
 Dobson, Captain. 
 
 Jenkins, Sergeant. 
 
 Green, ] 
 
 Plumer, j 
 
 Brown, ,,. 
 
 Davis, J-soWiers. 
 
 Gibson, 
 
 Brooks, J 
 
 Cato, a slave. 
 
 Maria, daughter to Will Goffe. 
 
 Nellie, daughter to Mrs. Lightfoot. 
 
 Mrs. Lightfoot, mistress of the Rainbow 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. 
 
 Mrs. Fraser. 
 
 Landlord, citizens, etc. 
 
 Time, 1661. 
 
THE KING'S JUDGES 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE I.— A field. Enter Goffe, Whalley, William and 
 
 Maria, E. 2 E.; Graham, L. 2 E. 
 
 Goffe. Good morning, Graham. You are up in time. 
 
 Graham. Good morning, gentlemen, and Mistress 
 Goffe. What cause has stirred you out of bed so early? 
 That I should be about, there is good reason. In Sum- 
 mer time a farmer must split each day in two, or else the 
 winter will take possession of an empty barn, and mock 
 our distress at its leisure. I must confess your visit does 
 surprise me. 
 
 Goffe. Last night William's father told a story, to the 
 effect that, in this neighborhood, you had seen a bear. 
 Is this true? 
 
 Graham. So it is, indeed. About a week ago my 
 neighbor, Mr. Marchall, lost a heifer. He asked me to 
 join him in a search. So, on Thursday last, we took a 
 trip across yonder hills to look ior traces. The ground is 
 covered thick with brushes, and we soon discovered a 
 spot where it seemed as if an animal had forced its waj r . 
 We followed this trail for quite awhile, when all at once 
 an ominous growl brought us to a sudden stop. The 
 slanting ground had now reached its lowest point, and 
 before us stood a steep and frowning rock, rising almost 
 perpendicularly into the air. Again the grunting was re- 
 peated quite close to where we stood, and out of a cave a 
 monstrous bear bid us defiance. In a second we had 
 fired our guns, but it seemed without effect, for he turned 
 and disappeared into the cave again. 
 
 Goffe. There will be good sport for us, Whalley. 
 
 Maria. O, papa ! do not expose yourself to such 
 danger. 
 
 Whalley. We are used to hunting. We have hunted 
 bigger game than this, and caught it, too. 
 
 Maria. And you are hunted now ! 
 
 William. Here, in New Haven, you are perfectly safe ; 
 and there is little danger of further annoyance. 
 
 Whalley If we could catch this bear alive, that would 
 make a fine present to our old friend, Sir Robert Phillip. 
 
 Goffe. So be it, Whalley. On Monday next our friend 
 Graham shall give us an introduction to his bearship. 
 
Graham. Gentlemen, I fear it will not prove a very 
 handy catch, if you intend to secure this bear with your 
 empty hands, I can assure you. 
 
 Whalley. If I remember right — I have read it some- 
 where — to catch a bear alive, the best way is to dig a few 
 deep holes in places where he frequently does pass, and 
 cover them with brushes. 
 
 Goffe. We will try that experiment — and, William, if 
 your father has any leisure hours which he may want to 
 shorten by employment, tell him to construct a cage for 
 us. 
 
 William. Just now, work does not press father very 
 hard. 
 
 Whalley. So much the better. Let him begin at once. 
 
 Graham. Had you not better make sure of your 
 game first, or else you may see the bill for the cage be- 
 fore you have caught the bear? 
 
 Goffe. Let us hope not, Graham. 'Come, let us go 
 over to Mr. Marchall. We will call on Monday. 
 
 [Exit Goffe, Whalley and Maria, L. 2 E.} 
 
 Graham (to William). A word with you. 
 
 William. Well? 
 
 Graham. Is it true that King Charles has offered a 
 big reward for their apprehension ? I have been told so. 
 
 William. There is no substance in that rumor. All 
 that is known is this : Governor Endicot, of Massachu- 
 setts, has received instructions from Lord Clarendon, the 
 King's Prime Minister, to have them secured and sent 
 back to England ; but, before Governor Endicot could 
 serve his warrant, they had fled to this State. Massa- 
 chusetts' Governor sent a message to our Governor to ar- 
 rest them, but he has flatly refuted, and there the matter 
 stands. 
 
 Graham. But, will the King be satisfied with this? 
 
 William. I do not think so. Eleven of Cromwell's 
 friends have already been confined to the tower; and I 
 have no doubt that parties will be sent out direct from 
 England to bring the Judges back. 
 
 Graham. When Cromwell died, the colonies sustained 
 a great loss. He was a plain and common man, and un- 
 derstood our needs. I have no confidence in Kings, and 
 you will see that those petty quarrels will soon break out 
 again . 
 
 William. The colonies will have no peace until they 
 hoist their own sails and steer for liberty. 
 
 [Exit Graham and William, L 2 E.] 
 SCENE II. — A country road, Enter Dobson, Jenkins, 
 
 and Soldiers, R. 1 E. 
 
Dobson. Halt! Where is that fellow? 
 
 Jenkins. Don't you see him coming this way? 
 
 Dobson. He is as black as pitch. 
 
 Jenkins. It seems he has a letter, or a small parcel, in 
 his hand. Evidently he is sent on an errand, which 
 gives him much satisfaction. See how he grins. 
 
 Dobson. His legs were not made for speed. 
 
 Jenkins. He is fond of time, using it carefully and 
 consuming it slowly. There he goes behind a tree!! 
 
 Dobson. He must have seen us. (To Sotdiers): Go 
 fetch him. 
 
 Jenkins. You, Green, Plumer and Brook«, go to your 
 right, among the trees, and take him in the rear. 
 
 Green. Behind what tree does he hide? 
 
 Jenkins. You see that oak, that spreads its branches 
 so far over the road ? That is the one. 
 
 [Exit Green, Plumer and Brooks, L. 1 E. 
 And you three march slowly along the road until you 
 reach tue place, then make a rush for him. 
 
 [Exit Brown, Davis and Gibson, L. 1 E.] 
 
 Dobson. New Haven can't be far off now ? 
 
 Jenkins. We ought to reach it before night. 
 
 Dobson. I will not return by this same route; it is a 
 mighty crooked and long-winded affair. 
 
 Jenkins. If there should be a ship in the harbor bound 
 for Boston, that would be the safest way ; and we run no 
 risk of falling in with people who sympathize with the 
 judges. The crowds which we will meet at every town 
 and village that we have to pass might interfere with our 
 progress. 
 
 Dobson. Pshaw! man, you are worse than an old 
 asthmatic woman, in predicting disasters. 
 
 [Re-enter Soldiers and Cato, L. 1. E.] 
 
 You black Hottentot, what did j^ou mean by hiding 
 behind that tree; did you intend to waylay and rob us? 
 
 Cato. Oh, masters, no. Me wanted rest. You see, 
 masters, Cato is up before the sun, and the sun makes 
 Cato sleepy. 
 
 Jenkins. You are wise, indeed, Cato, for it is said that 
 sound sleep is wisdom's best nourishment. 
 
 Cato. Yes, masters, Cato is always wise when he 
 sleeps. 
 
 Jenkins. And he who sleeps most is wisest? 
 
 Cato. Yes, masters, just so. 
 
 Jenhins. Then he w T ho sleeps forever is wisest of us 
 all. Does not that follow, Cato? 
 
 Cato. O, no ! O, no ! 
 
 Jenkins. How is that, wise Cato? 
 
8 
 
 Cato. You see, masters, a dead man can't enjoy his 
 dinner. 
 
 Dobson. What have vou done with that letter, you 
 son of hell? Give it to me. 
 
 Cato. O, masters, I have lost it. Cato will be whip- 
 ped. 
 
 Dobson. Out with it, or I will have you whipped right 
 here. 
 
 Jenkins. Come, Cato, let us see the address. Perhaps 
 we know the gentleman to whom it is directed. 
 
 Cato. It is not for a gentleman. 
 
 Jenkins. Come, great, wise Cato, let us have a look at 
 it. Just for a moment. 
 
 Dobson (snatching the letter, reads): To my pretty, 
 little bird. [Goes up L.) 
 
 Jenkins. Good Cato, can you tell us how far are we 
 from New Haven? 
 
 Cato. All folks around here say that yonder oaktree 
 is nine miles from town. 
 
 Jenkins. This road leads directly to it? 
 
 Cato. Yes, cir. 
 
 Jenkins. Is there no other road that branches off from 
 this? 
 
 Cato. There is, sir — about five miles further down. 
 
 Jenkins. Which road must we take? 
 
 Cato. There is a tavern where the two roads meet. 
 Ask the tavern keeper; he will tell you. 
 
 Dobson. Here is your letter. 
 
 Jenkins. Nothing we can make any use of? 
 
 Dobson. Some stupid love affair. 
 
 Jenkins. Let me see it [reads): " I let you know, my 
 tiny, little bird, that it was impossible for me to see you 
 last night. It was after sundown when I got through 
 with my work, and I felt so tired and sleepy that I was 
 hardly able to walk. I will see you to-night, sure, and 
 hope my pretty little darling will not be angry with one 
 who so longs to hug and kiss her. I wish the harvest 
 was over." — Robert. 
 
 Here, Cupid ; quick ! run ! fly ! 
 
 Farewell, wise Cato. 
 
 Cato. The same to you, masters. Lord, how I wish it 
 were night. [Exit, R. 1. E.] 
 
 Dobson. Shoulder arms ! Forward ! March ! 
 
 [Exit Dobson, Jenkins arid Soldiers, L. IE.] 
 SCENE III. — An open space in front of a tavern. D. L. 
 C, benches, C. and R. C. Jenkins and Landlord dis- 
 covered. 
 
9 
 
 Jenkins. So, we are still four miles from New Haven? 
 
 Landlord. Some say it is but three and a half. 
 
 Jenkins. Have you been in town lately? 
 
 Landlord. Not this fortnight. 
 
 Jenkins. Nothing unusual has happened to make 
 people talk? 
 
 Landlord. There is too much activity in town to leave 
 much time for talking. 
 
 Jenkins. No strangers in town? 
 
 Landlord. I did not stay long enough to make inquir- 
 ies. My business urged me home as soon as possible. 
 
 Jenkins. How many taverns has the place? 
 
 Landlord. I think but two; yes, I am certain, but 
 two, since Axtell took to farming. 
 
 Jenkins. Pleaie name them. 
 
 Landlord. The White Dove and the Rainbow. 
 
 Jenkins. A tavern-keeper is supposed to be a sort of 
 thermometer, by which the feeling of the people towards 
 their sovereign can be gauged. What is the feeling here 
 about the new king? 
 
 Landlord. So far, there has been but little opportu- 
 nity to form an opinion. It is but a short time since the 
 King has returned from France, and, of course, the home 
 affairs have the first claim on his attention. 
 
 Jenkins. How is the arrest of Sir Harry Vane regarded 
 here ? 
 
 Landlord. It did not please the people. You know 
 Sir Harry Vane was once Governor of Massachusetts, 
 and, although the people did not take very kindly to his 
 religions notions, lie is yet very popular. 
 
 Jenkins. As he was "not directly concerned with the 
 ting's father's death, I have no doubt he will soon be set 
 at liberty again. 
 
 Landlord. I fear not. It looks as if the present King 
 inherited the character of his father— always ready to 
 promise but never ready to keep his word. It would not 
 surprise me to hear that some of Cromwell's friends had 
 been executed. 
 
 Jenkins. It can hardly be expected that the King 
 should let every one of those who brought his father to 
 the block go unpunished. 
 
 Landlord. But why declare a general amnesty? A 
 King should not stoop to such low deception. 
 [Entei Dobson, D. L. C. 
 
 Dobson. Landlord, get my supper ready. I will be in 
 in a minute. 
 
 Landlord. I will attend to it, sir. [Exit D. L, C] 
 
JO . 
 
 Dobson. What information have you pumped out of 
 that old fossil? Where do the foxes hide? 
 
 Jenkins. I did not dare to ask him too directly about 
 the Judges, for tear of betraying our mission. Let it once 
 become known that they are in danger, and they will 
 soon know it and escape us. 
 
 Dobson. You are tedious. If you had to lead an army 
 you would never come to action, but shift and twist, «nd 
 bring every one out of patience. Your father must have 
 been a tailor. 
 
 [Re-enter Landlord, D. L. C] 
 
 Jenkins. He was no hostler, that is certain. 
 
 Landlord. Your supper is ready, sir. My wife tended 
 to it herself. 
 
 Dobson. Now, answer me, you purse drainer. Are you 
 a liar or are you not a liar? 
 
 Landlord. I hope I am no liar, sir. 
 
 Dobson. You hope so, but you are not certain. Listen. 
 I am after those two traitors, Goffe and Whalley. Be- 
 fore you answer my question, mark this : I am commis- 
 sioned by the King to arrest them and take them back to 
 England. If you give me the name of the man with 
 whom they lodge, and the exact location of his house, I 
 will recommend you to his majesty for this service ; and, 
 I assure you, your loyalty shall not go unrewarded — but 
 if you dare to deceive me, I will have you whipped when 
 I return. Now, as you hope you are not a liar, tell me 
 the truth. 
 
 Landlord. You wish to hear the truth ? 
 
 Dobson. The truth and nothing else. 
 
 Londlord. What I know? 
 
 Dobson. Certainly; what you know. 
 
 Landlord. I know you are a fool. 
 
 [Dobson draws his sword. Jenkins catches his arm .] 
 
 Jenkins. For shame! to draw on an old, defenceless 
 man. 
 
 [Enter Soldiers, D. L. C] 
 
 Dobson. Let go my arm ! 
 
 Jenkins. Come, have some sense. Why make un- 
 necessary enemies ? 
 
 Dobson. Let go my arm ! 
 
 Landlord. Let go his arm. If he dares to injure me, 
 he will get acquainted with every farmer within ten miles 
 of this place, and before morning one of those trees will 
 know his exact weight. 
 
 [Exit Dobson, Jenkins and Landlord, L. 2 E.] 
 
 Green. The Captain is out of humor. 
 
11 
 
 Brown. It seems humor has deserted him. 
 Plumer. I feel in that humor myself — that is, in a de- 
 serting humor. I am about as disgusted with this busi- 
 ness as an undertaker with his own funeral. 
 
 Gibson. Pist! don't talk so loud. He may hear you. 
 
 Plumer. The devil I care. 
 
 Davis. What was the row about? 
 
 Brooks. It appears the landlord brushed his vanity the 
 wrong way. 
 
 Green. The landlord is old and unarmed; that en- 
 couraged his courage. 
 
 Davis. To judge by his talk, he has distinguished him- 
 self in many a hot fight. 
 
 Green. That is always the case with such fussy brag- 
 garts. When the cannons roar the loudest, ihey are the 
 quietest; but when the cannons are the quielest, they 
 roar the loudest, [f he has distinguished himself, it is 
 by the skill he managed to keep out of danger. To draw 
 on an old, defenceless man just like him. 
 
 Brooks. It seems that Jenkins has known him for 
 some time. 
 
 Green. No doubt of it. However, Jenkins is a soldier 
 and has seen hard service. 
 
 Davis. I wonder who selected him for this mission ? 
 
 Green. Lord Clarendon. Jenkins told me that twelve 
 years ago the captain was his lordship's groom. By 
 what hook and crook he has managed to worm himself 
 into his lordship's favor, is not hard to guess. 
 
 Broion. Is he one of those spies that go about in public 
 places and listen to private conversations ? 
 
 Green. Of course he is. As his lordship's groom, he 
 had plenty of chances to overhear the conversations of 
 men of quality, and in that field I am willing to admit he 
 has distinguished himself, posting his lordship how cer- 
 tain men stood in regard to the King's return. 
 
 Brown. I have been told that hundreds of such men 
 were placed among the soldiers for the purpose of creat- 
 ing sympathy for the King, and destroy the Republican 
 feeling that still lingered in the army. 
 
 Gibson. It has always been a mystery to me how 
 Cromwell's veterans ever submitted to the King's return. 
 
 Green. You may be sure that before General Monk 
 ventured such a step, the public mind was well prepared 
 by such parasites. 
 
 Plumer. Has any one of you an idea what sort of a 
 place this New Haven is ? 
 
 Brown. Do you want to buy the place, Plumer ? 
 
12 
 
 Plumer. Not just yet. But suppose a fresh and band- 
 some looking girl should fall in love with rne, and bent 
 on capture, what am I going to do then? 
 
 Green. Draw your sword and defend yourself like a 
 true soldier. 
 
 Brown. Fight her till she cries for mercy. 
 
 Davis. Give her no quarters. 
 
 Brooks. Make her your prisoner. 
 
 Gibson. Send for the minister and marry her. 
 
 Green. Be kind to her and carry the baby. 
 
 [Re-enter Dobson and Jenkins, D. L. C.\ 
 
 Dobson. Get yourself ready. 
 
 [Exit Soldiers, D. L. C] 
 
 Jenkins. It is too soon. Wait until midnight, when 
 they are in bed, and we will surprise them with more 
 safety . 
 
 Dobson. What, has got into you? Must I ask you for 
 instructions? You speak to me as if I were a schoolboy 
 to be stuffed with lessons. 
 
 Jenkins. If from my lips Some precautions have es- 
 caped, they were prompted by a desire to make a success 
 of this enterprise. Now is the time, for careful moves, 
 for if you allow them to elude you on the start, the chase 
 may never end. Wait until midnight, and we will make 
 sure of them. 
 
 Dobson. And pray, Sir Prudence, is your scent so fine 
 that you can smell the house that hides them ? Or, shall 
 we knock the whole town out of sleep and inquire for Mr. 
 So-and-so? 
 
 Jenkins. I will go in town disguised as a farmer. The 
 stableman will loan me a suit. There is plenty of 
 time. In three hours I can be back, and we will then 
 know the exact spot where to take them. 
 
 Dobson. Jenkins, you are fine, but not fine enough for 
 me. I see through you. 
 
 Jenkins. Not fine enough for you? What insinuation 
 do you hide behind this conundrum? Please explain 
 
 Dobson. What guarantee have I that if I let you go 
 you will not take a bribe and warn them of their danger ? 
 
 Jenkins. This is too much. 
 
 Dobson. I think I can spare your service. You lack 
 respect for your superiors. 
 
 Jenkins. I would not follow you another step if I could 
 gain a fortune. You bungling coward! draw, if you are 
 a man. 
 
 [Re-enter Soldiers, D. L. C] 
 
 Dobson. I will attend to you when I have finished my 
 mission. Forward ! March ! 
 
13 
 
 [Exit Dobson and Soldiers.] 
 
 Jenkins. Look out for the hares, you clown. [Curtain. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 SCENE I. — A garden, bench in C, a few steps lead up to 
 
 a house, L. 2 and 3 E. William and Maria discovered. 
 
 Maria. My mind is so soaked with dreadful apprehen- 
 sions for the future that, like the coming winter, I see it 
 approach not expecting joy. 
 
 William. Have I offended you by speaking of my 
 love? 
 
 Maria. Do not be angry, William. If this dark cloud 
 was lift d from my horizon, and I could sun myself with 
 peaceful mind in dreams of happiness, be assured the 
 larger part of my dreams should be filled out by your 
 dear self. 
 
 William. Such sweet confession gives my hope new 
 life. 
 
 Maria. You must have patience, love. My whole 
 existence is so wound up with my dear father's life that 
 the very thought of losing him plunges me into sadness. 
 I lost my mother when I was but two years old, and in 
 my mind I can not conjure up a picture of herself. 
 When first my mind began to record impressions seen, it 
 was my father's face that first smiled at me. When my 
 strength began to grow, it was he who taught me how 
 to walk. He was my nurse, playmate, companion, 
 teacher — everything; and what is strange, I never felt a 
 desire to play with other children. I thought them stupid 
 and egoistical. With every play he would mix some use- 
 ful let- son, not forcing with a frowning face a load of 
 heavy knowledge on my mind, but letting me acquire it as 
 the flower acquires its fragrance. Whenever we had to 
 part it gave me pain, and most welcome was the hour 
 when we met again. 
 
 William. I can picture to mvself vour early peaceful 
 life. 
 
 Maria. O, peaceful by no means. Often I had to en- 
 dure months and months of separation. Both he and 
 Whaliey held high command in Cromwell's army, and 
 when I heard of bloody battles fought, my fears for his 
 safety tormented me day and night. It seemed to me so 
 stupid, that men of sense should set to work with so 
 much determination destroying, not only what had cost 
 them so much labor to produce, but destroying them- 
 selves, like maddened wolves. Is it not strange? 
 
n 
 
 William. We all have heard of the god of war, but of 
 the goddess of peace, who ever heard of her? Perhaps a 
 thousand years hence, reason will have so far advanced 
 that it will be able to keep greed and hate in check, and 
 will not allow them to roam unchained. 
 
 Maria. Do you not think, William, that my father 
 and Mr. Whalley are far too reckless about their own 
 safety? Hardly had we been twenty-four hours in town 
 when every man. woman and child knew who they were. 
 Instead of lodging in an inn, they should have sought 
 the house of a private gentleman. 
 
 William. And yet I think they acted wisely, for had 
 they kept within the narrow circle of a few friends they 
 would have excluded themselves from public sympathy, 
 and, instead of gaining many friends, would have made 
 many enemies. The people would have thought them 
 too proud and too exclusive. Now, take this community 
 as a whole, they are liked everywhere, with but few ex- 
 ceptions. 
 
 Maria. And why exceptions? 
 
 William. In every community there will be found 
 some narrow-minded souls who, for mere spite, will op- 
 pose everything that is popular. No notice would be 
 taken of them if they should run with the common herd ; 
 but, by displaying a spirit of stubborn opposition, they 
 gain their point, viz., notoriety. If every man in this 
 community were your father's enemy, these same crea- 
 tures would then be his most devoted friends, and would 
 never tire from morn to night to sing his praise. 
 
 Maria. I hope there are not many. 
 
 William. They will not dare to bark too loud. We 
 young men of this town have engaged ourselves to pro- 
 tect your father and Mr. Whalley, even if we have to use 
 force . 
 
 Maria. That is good news, indeed. That is your work, 
 "William. Tell everyone that I am grateful for their de- 
 votion. I can now breathe more freely. 
 
 William. You have nourished your fears with too 
 much care, and your imagination is an active soil. 
 
 Maria. Perhaps I have, but ever since we had such a 
 narrow escape from Cambridge, I have, in every new 
 face, suspected a spy, and in every noise the approach of 
 an enemy. 
 
 [Enter from the house Mrs. Crocker.] 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. Here they are. 
 
 [Enter from the house Goffe and Whalley.] 
 
 Goffe. Come, William, let us march, in front. It is 
 time to go home. 
 
15 
 
 Maria (to Whalley). Have you seen the Governor at 
 Mr. Davenport's house? 
 
 Whalley. He sends his compliments, and has given 
 strict orders to bring you with us when we visit him 
 next. 
 
 Maria. He has the reputation of being a gentleman. 
 
 Whalley. The reputation fits him well. 
 
 Maria. Good night, Mrs. Crocker! 
 
 [Exit Goffe, Whalley, William and Maria, R. 2E.] 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. Goodnight! Goodnight! 
 
 [Exit through the house.] 
 
 SCENE II— A street. Enter Jenkins, R. 1 E.; Fraser, 
 L. 1 E. 
 
 Jenkins. Does the Governor live here in town ? 
 
 Fraser. No ; at Guilford. 
 
 Jenkins. Where about is that ? 
 
 Fraser. About thirty miles from here. 
 
 Jenkins. So far? 
 
 Fraser. Yes, all of that; but you mightsee the Gov- 
 ernor here in town if your business is urgent. I heard 
 that he is stopping at, Mr. Davenport's house at present. 
 There you may find him. 
 
 Jenkins. Is it true that the Governor intends to 
 organize an expedition against the Indians? 
 
 Fraser. No doubt of that, my friend. Doyouwish 
 to enlist? 
 
 Jenkins. My intention, exactly. 
 
 Fraser. He will be glad to see you. I only wish I 
 were twenty years younger myself. 
 
 Jenkins. Why, sir, would you enlist? 
 
 Fraser. Nothing should prevent me from doing so. 
 That would be just the kind of fun I could enjoy. Shoot, 
 stab and slaughter ! 
 
 Je7ikins. There is some soldier's blood running in your 
 veins. 
 
 Fraser. Why, sir, I am a born general ! 
 
 Jenkins. Indeed ! [Aside:] I will have some fun with 
 this crank before I let him go. The world is full of such 
 poor fools. 
 
 Fraser. When I see a piece of ground, I can see at a 
 glance whether it is suitable for a battle-field or not. 
 You see, the main point is to know where to place your 
 artillery. 
 
 Jenkins. I see. 
 
 Fraser. I would always hide a part of my force, to 
 make the enemy believe that I was short of soldiers. 
 
16 
 
 Seeing this, he would attempt to crush me at a single 
 blow; when ail at once my men would pour out of the 
 ground as by a miracle, and being thus surprised I would 
 close on the enemy's right and left and sweep him off the 
 field. 
 
 Jenkins. You should write a book about tactics. 
 
 Fraser. Why, sir, when I left England I missed a 
 great chance. 
 
 Jenkins. How so? 
 
 Fraser. If the King had given me command of his 
 army I would have beaten Cromwell in every battle. 
 
 Jenkins. You surprise me ; nay, you astonish me ! 
 
 Fraser. They talk of Cromwell as if he were a greater 
 man than Csesar. If the late King would have had a 
 general of half my talents, the name of Cromwell would 
 not be known to-day. 
 
 Jenkins I suspect you are a genius. 
 
 'Fraser. I never brag, sir. When I say I can do a 
 thing, 1 am sure I can do it. 
 
 Jenkins. How about statesmanship? You must ad- 
 mit that Cromwell was not only a great general but also 
 a great statesman. Never before was the English nation 
 so respected as when he held the reins. 
 
 Fraser. So am I, my friend. I have a family of nine 
 children ; and you know that a family is a State on a 
 small scale. There is no man in the Colonies who has 
 trained his children to such strict obedience as I have. 
 One look from my eye is sufficient to make them tremble. 
 
 Jenkins. And your wife: how do you manage her? 
 
 Fraser. No trouble whatever. At the beginning of 
 our conjugal life she tried to ride on me, but she soon 
 found out who I am. There are some weak-limbered 
 knaves bragging about their knowing how to manage a 
 wife; but when they come home and see the woman a 
 little cross, they e»neak to the backyard, fall down on their 
 knees, and pray to heaven to send the poor creature a 
 little good humor. I despise such slaves. I sometimes 
 wish my wife would show a little more spirit. 
 
 [Enter Mrs. Fraser, LIE.'] 
 
 Mrs Fraser. You slop-pail ! Half an hour ago I sent 
 you to the butcher, and here you stand, talking the but- 
 tons off a man's breeches. Trot, I say ! 
 
 [Exit Fraser and Mrs. Fraser, R. IE.] 
 
 Jenkins. Ha! ha' ha! Sneak to the backyard, 
 Csesar, and pray. Ha! ha! ha! What fun would there 
 be in this world if it were not for the fools. [Exit 1L.E] 
 
17 
 
 SCENE III. — ^4 public room at the Rainbow, D. R. C. ; 
 D. L. 2 E. Sidebar, R. 2 E. Tables and chairs, R. C, 
 C. and L. C. Lambert at R. C. table. L. Nellie at R. 
 C. table it., and Mrs. Lightfoot at sidebar discovered. 
 
 Lambert. On my soul, I am not joking. 
 
 Nellie. To marry a man with such a reputation ! 
 
 Lambert. What is my reputation ? 
 
 Nellie. Two gallons of ale a day and a wet sheet every 
 night. 
 
 Lambert. If I have dispatched six dozen royal defend- 
 ers, what of that? If I have assisted King Charles in 
 losing his head? Why, that was a small loss. He had 
 lost his head long before he ever lost it. It was a thing 
 necessary to bring the blood-letting to an end. He never 
 was very particular how many of his subjects lost their 
 lives until his own neck began to itch, then all at once he 
 discovered that laws were made for kings as well as for 
 tailors. I will drown my reputation. 
 
 Mrs. Lightfoot. You should not take any notice of 
 what Nellie says. 
 
 Lambert. Mrs. Hayward, of the White Dove, has 
 offered me all the ale I can drink free of charge if I take 
 the Judges over to her place, and here I am paying for 
 it. And shall I give you a hint : That young woman 
 seems to be much interested in my person. 
 
 Nellie. Send for the butcher to kill my calf. 
 
 Lambert. She has a good foot, a good eye, and she 
 carries herself well. 
 
 Nellie. May all the gods assist her. 
 
 Lambert. Keputation ! Are you not coining gold out 
 of our reputation ! From far and wide they come to have 
 a look at the Judges. I w r ill be hanged if I don't see 
 Mrs. Hayward to-morrow morning, if the smell of our 
 reputation is too much for your nose. 
 
 Mrs. Lightfoot. Come, Lambert ! Why will you raise 
 your feathers about a joke? You know that Nellie loves 
 to tease you. 
 
 Lambert. Tell her to love me without teasing me. 
 Let her obey orders. Am I not a man stuffed with good 
 qualities? 
 
 Nellie. Good qualities, forsooth 1 Where are they? 
 I see nothing but a quantity of beef. 
 
 Lambert. Well, is beef not a good quality ? Is beef not 
 the foundation of all good qualities ? Can there be any 
 good qualities without beef ? 
 
 Nellie. Now, if you were stuffed with wool, I could 
 make some use of you. I could knit my future husband 
 
18 
 
 a pair of socks that would keep his feet warm. I will 
 sooner live on cold potatoes all my life than marry a man 
 with cold feet. 
 
 Lambert. I am your man, Nellie. I can make a pot 
 of cold water boil in ten minutes by simply sticking my 
 feet into it. 
 
 Nellie. Everybody says you snore. 
 
 Lambert. If you believe what everybody says about 
 me you will soon have warts growing on your brain. If 
 I sometimes do snore, I do it to frighten the mosquitos. 
 Have I no right to defend myself against such blood- 
 thirsty rascals? 
 
 Nellie. I really don't see what you are good for, 
 
 Lambert. Am I not gentle? Am I not a gentleman? 
 
 Nellie. You ! who have slain six dozen royal defend- 
 ers. You a geutleman ! 
 
 Lambert. Nellie, I am not quite certain that I killed 
 that many. 
 
 Nellie. Well, how many did you kill, then? 
 
 Lambert. 0, I don't know. Perhaps two or three. 
 Mind, Nellie, I say — perhaps. I might not have killed 
 any at all. You see, my uncle was a general in Crom- 
 well's army, and when I was hardly more than a boy he 
 gave me a drum to beat courage into his soldiers, and 
 sent them dancing into eternity. 
 
 Nellie. Out, you hollow mockery ! Only beat the 
 drum ! If I marry you I will have to henpeck you — I 
 see that plain enough. 
 
 [Enter Butler and Warren, B. L. 2 E. Sit both at E. 
 C. table.] 
 
 Warren. Nellie, we came to empty a few glasses. 
 
 Lambert. How does my proposition prosper ? 
 
 Butler. My enthusiasm still holds out. 
 
 Warren. So does mine. 
 
 Lambert. If I cannot brew as good a glass of ale as 
 this, I will shave off my beard. . 
 
 Butler. How did'you acquire that knowledge ? 
 
 Lambert. I was born in the business, so to speak. 
 My father and his brother owned a brewery in Manches- 
 ter before the revolution broke out. Being both taken 
 with the patriotic fever they sold their business to follow 
 Cromwell. My father fell at Marston Moor. 
 
 Butler. Will a thousand pounds be enough to give 
 the enterprise a fair start ? 
 
 Lambert. More than sufficient. Mr. Goffe, Mr. Whal- 
 ley and I will subscribe a hundred pounds each. So you 
 can figure out the balance needed. 
 
19 
 
 Warren. We could not see Mr. Eaton to-day, but will 
 try again to-morrow. If he is willing to support the 
 scheme, you may consider the matter as settled. 
 
 Lambert. I hope the town council will not raise ob- 
 jections. 
 
 Butler. Our prejudices do not run in such narrow 
 grooves as in the North. What we so freely import from 
 England might just as well be made here ; besides, Mr. 
 Eaton has too much at stake in this community to ne- 
 glect its interest. 
 
 Lambert {to Nellie.) Pet, give us another lesson. 
 
 Nellie. Do not ask me to give you a lesson. 
 
 Lambert. Why, pet? What lesson would you give 
 me? 
 
 Nellie. A hanging lesson You deserve to be hanged. 
 . Lambert. Why would you hang me, pet? 
 
 Nellie. For telling fibs, you veteran ale-jug. 
 
 Lambert. Did you hear that chicken squeal? Be- 
 tween you and me, gentlemen, I believe she drinks every 
 drop of the stale ale that has turned sour. She never 
 has a good word for me. 
 
 Nellie. Telling such lies, boasting of having slain six 
 dozen royal defenders, and now it turns out he has only 
 been beating the drum. 
 
 [Enter Terrill; L. 2 E, sits C. Table L.\ 
 
 Lambert. There is no pleasing women, that is certain . 
 When first I told her of the number I had slain, she 
 railed at me, called me a monster ; and now when I re- 
 veal my harmless disposition again, she is not satisfied. 
 What can I do? 
 
 Terrill. Spit in your hands and shake your toe. 
 
 Lambert. Halloa, my Mephistopheies ! What makes 
 your complexion look so rusty? Come, let me feel your 
 pulse. 
 
 Terrill. I feel a spider running down my back. Ugh ! 
 
 Lambert. What, have you been dreaming about spiders 
 again ? Do they still persist in hanging their cobwebs 
 in your poor little brain ? 
 
 terrill. Sir Beef, the times must have been exceed- 
 ingly dull when you were born. 
 
 Lambert. Sir Ribs, it is a pity, indeed a great pity, 
 that in your case nature should have made such a 
 blunder, and seasoned your wits with vinegar instead 
 of salt. 
 
 Terrill. Sir Beef, have you ever heard of such a place 
 as the north pole ? The ice there is almost as thick as 
 your skull. 
 
20 
 
 Lambert. There is where your wits must have caught 
 cold. 
 
 Terrill. Sir Beef, it was a villainous tide that brought 
 you to this shore. It cheated the sharks out of a good 
 meal. 
 
 Lambert. Sir Ribs, they say that envy and malice 
 have a bad effect on the liver. 
 
 Terrill. Sir Beef, now why should you believe what 
 they say, when nobody will believe what you say? 
 
 Lambert. Rib::, you know very well that the best bar- 
 ber could not shave such a lie, being barefaced. 
 
 Terrill. Will anyone go and fetch my razor ? I have 
 not shaved a liar for some time. 
 
 Lambert. Ribs, that is another lie. If I mistake not 
 you shaved yourself this morning. 
 
 Terrill. Take a dose of strychnine and die. Give me 
 a chance to dance on your grave. 
 
 Lambert. What, have you missed your vocation, Ribs ? 
 Would you turn grave digger? Are you a silent partner 
 in an undertaking establishment? Does a funeral bring 
 money in your purse ? * 
 
 [Enter Frazer L.2 E.; sits C. table E.] 
 
 Terrill. By all the spite in hell, I will make you sweat! 
 
 Lambert. Ha! ha! ha! Don't lose your temper, Ribs. 
 Suppose a she-dog should find and swallow your lost 
 temper. Just think what mischief that might make. It 
 would set all her pups raving mad. 
 
 [Enter Crocker and Holmes, L. 2 E ; Crocker sits L. C. 
 table E. ; Holmes L. C. table L.] 
 
 Frazer. His wits have gone to the pups — poor pups. 
 
 Lambert. The night owls begin to snort. 
 
 Eraser. There is news in town that will interest your 
 friends, the judges. I warrant it will put them into a fu- 
 neral humor. 
 
 Lambert. My friend, Shadow, how is the sun? In 
 these hot days, you should be careful, verj r careful. 
 
 Fraser. Ten of the traitors were found guilty and have 
 been executed. 
 
 Lambert. Is that true ? 
 
 Crocker. It is. {Handing Lambert a paper.) The 
 latest papers have the news ; see for yourself. 
 
 Lambert. Poor Harrison and Scot. I knew them well. 
 Two better souls never drew breath. Hugh Peters, too ; 
 a man with snow-white hair ; accused of regicide. The 
 King begins well; he broke his word. Well, what can 
 be expected from such a breed as the Stuarts ? 
 
 Terrill. At last the cut-throats had to swallow their 
 own medicine. 
 
21 
 
 Fraser. Poor King Charles ; I am glad of it. 
 
 Terrill. Never before was a King so shamefully treated. 
 
 Lambert. Stop your croaking, you raven, or I will 
 shake you. 
 
 Mrs. Lightfoot. Can't you keep peace? 
 
 Warren. Have no fear, Mrs. Lightfoot. We take care 
 of our valiant friend. 
 
 Butler. This action of the king may cause another 
 revolution, or else the spirit of Pym and Hampden has 
 entirely run to seed. 
 
 Crocker. It ought to re-kindle the Republican feeling, 
 if there is a spark left in the ashes. 
 
 Warren. This execution of Cromwell's friends looks 
 like a bold challenge to the Republicans. 
 
 Crocker. It does not seem very judicious that the King 
 should have shown such a hurry in this matter. 
 
 Butler. It shows that he is just as stupid and as ob- 
 stinate as his father, who was certainly one of the most 
 stupid asses that ever lived. 
 
 Terrill. Prove it, if you can. 
 
 Butler. It would prove a long story to count up all his 
 blunders. 
 
 Terrill. That is not proving anything. 
 
 Butler. Charles knew how strongly the English na- 
 tion was opposed to the Catholic faith. The powder plot 
 w T as still too fresh in everybody's mind, and instead of 
 keeping this engraved on the front page of his memory, 
 he defied this sentiment by marrying a Catholic wife, 
 and allowed her to bring a whole train of Jesuits to his 
 court. If he intended on purpose to arouse the ill will of 
 the people, no act of his could have served the purpose 
 better. 
 
 Terrill. Suppose he wanted to show that he did not 
 intend to submit to that tyrant, public opinion. 
 
 Butler. His war with Spain. How loud his trumpets 
 sounded. What expectations were not raised in the pub- 
 lic mind by his costly, fussy preparations. What was the 
 result? His fleet and army came home like whipped 
 curs. No sign of energy and management anywhere. 
 
 Terrill. What could the King do when parliament re- 
 fused voting him supplies? 
 
 Butler. Then the affair with France. The English 
 nation entrusted him with a large sum of money for the 
 express purpose that it should be used to protect the 
 Protestants of the city of Rochelle, whom Cardinal Riche- 
 lieu was anxious to exterminate When the English Ad- 
 miral arrived at the Downs with his fleet he found orders 
 to place himself under the command of the French Em- 
 
22 
 
 bassador, and use his men and his cannon to attack the 
 Huguenots in the rear. The sailors, when they heard of 
 this perfidy, refused to have a hand in this dirty busi- 
 ness, and, to a man, returned to England. A common 
 sailor had more honor in his little finger than the King 
 had in his whole body. Are there words strong enough 
 for such baseness ? 
 
 Terrill. I don't believe the King ever gave such an 
 order. 
 
 Butler. And who gave the order? 
 
 Terrill. Lord Buckingham. 
 
 Crocker. Could Lord Buckingham give such an order 
 without the King's knowledge? 
 
 Butler. This dandy Buckingham. To choose such a 
 coxcomb for a Prime Minister. This carpet presser ; this 
 parlor butterfly, taking bribes from pirates to keep 
 his mistresses in good trim. Permitting the whole coast 
 of England to be surrounded by buccaneers of the worst 
 description, plundering villages near the coast, and sell- 
 ing the young women captured to the Turks to fill their 
 harems with. When Sir Eliot gathered a fleet and cap- 
 tured some of them, this scoundrel, Buckingham, had him 
 arrested on a trumped-up charge, and the pirates were set 
 at liberty again without as much as a reprimand. 
 
 Crocker. The arrest of Sir Eliot was the first nail n 
 the King's coffin. 
 
 Terrill. The traitor well deserved his fate. 
 
 Lambert. You green-livered monkey. Do you call a 
 man a traitor who sacrifices his life to protect his fellow 
 men against the tyranny of a stupid King? Both of you, 
 'if you are so fond of royalty, why don't you browse 
 where it grows ? 
 
 [Enter Goffe, Whalley, William and Maria, 
 
 Goffe. Good evening, gentlemen. 
 
 Lambert. Three cheers for the Judges. 
 
 All. [Except Terrill and Fraser.] Hurrah! hurrah! 
 hurrah ! 
 
 [Exit Goffe, Whalley and Maria, B. C. D.] 
 
 Terrill. Have the Judges engaged yon to enact this 
 farce ? 
 
 Fraser. Neighbor, a good dog earns his meat. 
 
 Lambert. You prune-eating tapeworm, is it my fault 
 that you lack flesh and humor? 
 
 [Enter Dobson and Soldiers, L. 2 E.] 
 
 Dobson {to Green, Plumer and Brooks). You three 
 take possession of yond«r door. [They go over to R. C. 
 D., to Brown, Davis and Gibson.] You three remain 
 here. Let no one escape. 
 
 Mrs. Lightfoot. What is the meaning of this, sir? 
 
23 
 
 Dobson. Madam, I am charged by the King to arrest 
 Messrs. Goffe and Whalley. As I do not personally know 
 them, please point them out to me. 
 
 Lambert (pointing to Terrill and Fraser). Here they 
 are, Captain. Thank heaven, justice will be done at 
 last 
 
 Dobson. You two are my prisoners. 
 
 Terrill. My name is Terrill, as every one here knows. 
 
 Lambert. He lies ! he lies ! he lies ! You traitor, do 
 you think you can deceive such an intelligent man as the 
 Captain with such small tricks ? The Captain is no fool. 
 Does he not lie, neighbors? 
 
 All. He lies ! he lies ? 
 
 Fraser. The Judges are [Lambert takes Fraser by the 
 neck and shakes him.] 
 
 Lambert. Will you keep still, you traitor? Shall I 
 shake the life out of you? 
 
 Terrill. Captain, the Judges. [Crocker takes Terrill by 
 the neck and shakes him.] 
 
 Lambert. That's right, Crocker; keep your hand on 
 his throat. Strangle him if he persists in lying. 
 
 Dobson (to soldiers). Come forward. Tie their arms. 
 
 Lambert. I am glad the King has Sent a man of sense, 
 who cannot be hoodwinked by such tricksters. For 
 weeks and weeks they have poisoned our minds with 
 treason. 
 
 Holmes (aside, to Crocker). Give him a little air; he is 
 black and blue in the face. 
 
 Terrill. Am I a judge, you fool ? 
 
 Lambert. There, Crocker, let him not insult the Cap- 
 tain. Shake all his bones to pieces. 
 
 Fraser. The Judges are — 
 
 Lambert. What, have you not had enough? Bring 
 them before the Governor, Captain ; he will confirm 
 what we flay. 
 
 All. Y^s, bring them before the Governor. 
 
 Lambert. You will have to gag them, Captain. Allow 
 them not to make any noise on the streets. With their 
 seditious talk they have inflamed the minds of some 
 young men. Should they see them caught they will 
 make trouble. [Terrill and Fraser are gagged ] That is 
 well done. Now, out with them. Make haste, Captain, 
 to get them out of town. The Governor lives at Guilford. 
 
 Dobson. Forward ! march ! 
 
 Lambert. Three cheers for the Captain. 
 
 AIL Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah! [Curtain.] 
 
24 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 SCENE I. — An open landscape; moonshine. Enter Ter- 
 rill, Fraser, Dobson and Soldiers, L. 2 E. 
 Dobson. Halt ! What has become of that young man 
 who volunteered to lead us to the Governor ? 
 
 Brown. A short while ago he came to rne and asked 
 me for a piece of string to tie his shoes with. Having 
 some, I gave him what he wanted. I then saw him 
 stoop down ; that is the last I saw of him. 
 Davis. He has given us the slip. 
 
 Gibson. That is the very thing that noisy fellow at the 
 tavern told him to do. I overheard him saying : "Lead 
 them a distance out of town, and then give them the 
 slip." 
 
 Dobson. You stock-fish, why did you not say so at the 
 inn ? A more stupid lot I could not have chosen. 
 
 Gibson. It is not a soldier's business to make sug- 
 gestions, but to obey orders. All the same, I thank you 
 for the compliment. 
 Green. So do we all. 
 
 Dobson. Take the gags out of their mouths. How 
 far are we from Guilford ? 
 Terrill. Not a step less than twenty miles. 
 Dobson. Less than ten minutes ago that young man 
 told me we were near it now. 
 
 Terrill. That same young man is engaged to marry 
 Mr. GofiVs daughter. It was he who brought them here 
 from Cambridge, where he has been at college. If this 
 information does not open your eyes, then I advise you 
 to lay a Spanish fly plaster behind your ear to draw off 
 the surplus moisture that clogs your brain. {To Fraser.) 
 Neighbor, do you see any finger-marks on my neck. If 
 that blacksmith did not come very near strangling me, 
 I am a herring. 
 
 Fraser. If ever we should get hung we will be used 
 to it. 
 
 Terrill. Sir Beef, I will make you pay for this. 
 Fraser. I wonder what my wife will say, that I am 
 not at home ? 
 
 Terrill. You will get a good spanking, sure. 
 Fraser. I am feeling sick. 
 Terrill. Is her hand very heavy ? 
 Fraser. Her father was a baker. 
 Terrill. Have you any liniment in the house? 
 Fraser. If I couid only steal some chickens out here. 
 S he is very fond of chickens. 
 Terrill. You know her taste ? 
 
25 
 
 Fraser. We have nine children. 
 
 Terrill. Now, who would take you for such a despe- 
 rado. 
 
 Fraser. I wonder what time it is ? 
 
 Terrill. It must be past midnight. 
 
 Fraser. The moon will be down by three o'clock. It 
 seems to me the moon has put on an extra smile to- 
 night. 
 
 Terrill. Perhaps he is looking at us. 
 
 Fraser. I wonder how we look when seen from the 
 moon ? 
 
 Terrill. Like maggots on a rotten cheese. Did you 
 ever hold a rotten cheese, swarming with maggots, in 
 your hands? Hold the mirror up to nature ! There you 
 have it. How they push and crawl. All anxious to reach 
 a soft place, and each in deadly fear of being left behind. 
 
 Fraser. Is Nellie Lightfoot still obdurate ? 
 
 Terrill. Be satisfied with what you have got and leave 
 every fool to his own illusions. 
 
 Fraser. Is it much trouble to you to talk so wise ? 
 
 Terrill. A little more sense would not harm you. 
 
 Fraser. Come, give me a little advice. 
 
 Terrill, I have no vices. 
 
 Fraser. All the virtues must have held a meeting on 
 the very day you were born, and finding you in such poor 
 condition, they pitied you and bestowed their gifts most 
 freely. Yet they did not forbid you to impart some 
 knowledge to others. 
 
 Terrill. Go and eat grass. 
 
 Fraser. My ears are not long enough, nor has my 
 hea'd the right shape to enjoy it. 
 
 Terrill. Have you studied phrenology? 
 
 Fraser. What is that ? 
 
 Terrill. A new science. 
 
 Fraser. What does it teach ? 
 
 Terrill. Ask the Captain ; he can tell you. 
 
 Dobson. [During the conversation the Captain has been 
 walking to anal fro.} Hold your tongue, or I will make 
 you. 
 
 Terrill. You are too late to make me. I was made 
 twenty-nine years ago. I protest of being treated like a 
 criminal, if you expect the Governor will hunt you up 
 in this wilderness, and at this time of night, you are a — 
 champion. 
 
 Dobson. Will you never shut up, you screech owl ? 
 
 Terrill. Would you mind, Captain, to show us your 
 warrant ? You were in such a hurry at the Rainbow that 
 you forgot all about it. 
 
 Fraser. Yes, let us see your warrant. 
 
26 
 
 Terrill. We are waiting. Captain . 
 
 Fraser. It is an unlawful proceeding to drag us here 
 without a warrant. 
 
 Terrill. Great generals seldom know anything about 
 the law. 
 
 Fraser. But small captains should. 
 
 Dobson. (To Soldiers.) Has Jenkins given a paper to 
 any oiie of you? 
 
 Brown. Not to me. 
 
 Gibson. To me neither. 
 
 Brooks. I have seen nothing of it. 
 
 Green. If Jenkins ever had it, he had wit enough to 
 keep it. 
 
 Dobson. Untie their arms. 
 
 Terrill. There is some one coming. 
 
 Fraser. It's a woman. 
 
 Terrill. A witch. 
 
 Fraser. No, it is my wife. 
 
 [Enter Mrs. Fraser, L. 2 E.] 
 
 Terrill. Mrs. Fraser, your husband wants to go to bed ; 
 he feels sleepy. 
 
 Mrs. Fraser. You scarecrow! you vagabond! What 
 are you doing here at this time of night ? 
 
 Fraser. Gentle, my lamb ; gentle. 
 
 Terrill. Mrs. Fraser, give him a good spanking. 
 
 Mrs. Fraser. Let me catch you at the Rainbow again, 
 and you shall know my father was a baker. What busi- 
 ness have you to be quarreling about things you don't 
 understand. 
 
 Fraser. My sugar-plum, why will you be angry? 
 
 Terrill. Give him fifty lashes on the soles of his feet ; 
 he deserves it. 
 
 Mrs. Fraser. We all know why you run to the Rain- 
 bow, Terrill. You think Nellie would miss you if you 
 didn't. Well, every one has his weakness. 
 
 Fraser. My lamb, what lias become of the Judges? 
 
 Mrs. Fraser. Let the Captain find that out himself; it 
 is his business, not mine. The idea of taking such spar- 
 rows for eagles. 
 
 Dobson. If the whole town of New Haven was ten miles 
 deep in hell I w T ould be satisfied. Get out of my sight. I 
 am sick of you. 
 
 Fraser. To-morrow we will start a collection for a 
 monument. 
 
 Terrill. A petrified ass has been discovered in Egypt. 
 It is for sale. 
 
 Mrs. Fraser. I will rub your ears when we get home. 
 
 [Exit Terrill, Fraser and Mrs. Fraser, L. 2 E.\ 
 
 Dobson. Shoulder arms ! Forward, march! 
 
 [Exit Dobson and Soldiers, L. 2 E.] 
 
27 
 
 SCENE II.— A street. D., near R. 1 E. Above D. a win- 
 dow. Sign of the Rainbow. Enter Terrill, Dobson and 
 Soldiers, L. 1 E. 
 
 Terrill. Here is the Rainbow at last. 
 
 Dobson. I will not sleep here. That woman has de- 
 ceived me. 
 
 Terrill. How can you hold her responsible for your 
 own blunders ? ' You were in such a hurry to snatch your 
 supposed game that you left her no time to explain your 
 mistake. 
 
 Dobson. She showed no spirit to assist me. 
 
 Terrill. Why, man! do you think any one will throw 
 himself into the water and catch fish for you, because 
 you wear the King's uniform? Nearly all her patrons 
 are friends of the Judges. Had she shown an eager de- 
 sire to help you she would have done so against her own 
 interest. I know, for certain, that many of her best pa- 
 trons would have deserted her. 
 
 Dobson. Is there no other tavern in town ? 
 
 Terrill. Yes, the White Dove. 
 
 Dobson. Is it far from here? 
 
 Terrill. We passed it. 
 
 Dobson. Why didn't you tell rae? 
 
 Terrill. Couldn't you read the sign yourself? 
 
 [Mrs. Lightfoot appears above.] 
 
 Mrs. Lightfoot. What is the matter? What is all this 
 noise about ? 
 
 Terrill. The Captain and his men are looking for night 
 quarters. Can you accommodate them? 
 
 Mrs. Lightfoot. How many are there? 
 
 Terrill. Seven. 
 
 Mrs. Lightfoot. Are the men willing to sleep in the 
 hay loft?' 
 
 Green. Madam, your lofty proposition is accepted. 
 
 Terrill. What time is it, Mrs. Lightfoot? 
 
 Mrs. Lightfoot. Past two. I will be down in a minute. 
 
 [Exit from above.] 
 
 Dobson. Who is that fellow that put me to all this 
 trouble ? 
 
 Terrill. He pretends to be a friend of the Judges, and 
 has followed them all the way from England. Heaven 
 only knows what crimes he has committed there. 
 
 Dobson. Know you of any? 
 
 Terrill. If he had interfered with my business, as he 
 has done last night with yours, do you know what I would 
 have done ? 
 
 Dobson. Well ? 
 
 Terrill. Taken my sword and run it through his skin. 
 
28 
 
 Dobson. I wish I had a warrant for him. 
 
 Terrill. Wishes won't catch fishes. If they find out 
 that you lost your warrant, you might as well pack up 
 and go home. 
 
 Dobson. I trust you will not let anybody know. 
 
 Terrill. I told you how I stand towards the Judges. 
 Although they have done me, personally, no injury, yet 
 1 fancy that I have a private cause to hate them, and if 
 you succeed in clearing the town of them, you do me a 
 service. 
 
 Dobson. I must play a bold game. If I succeed in 
 forcing them on the vessel that lies in the harbor, they 
 can ask me for all the warrants they want. When once 
 in Boston I am safe. 
 
 [Door opens. Exit Terrill, Dobson and Soldiers.] 
 
 SCENE III. — A room in Mr. Crocker's house. A window 
 
 with curtains on each side of D. C. D. L., upper E. D. 
 
 L. 2 E. Table and chairs in front C. A lounge, R 2 
 
 E. Cupboard, L. C. Lambert discovered lying on the 
 
 lounge. 
 
 Lambert {rising). Was not that a knock ? There it 
 is ay:ain. (Going to D. C.) Itislocked. Yes! yes! yes! 
 I will open in a minute. [Goes to D. L. 2 E.] Locked, 
 too. I am shut in like a thief. Stuff such musty terriers 
 ■with saw-dust. Are they afraid I clean out the pantry. 
 [Knocking at D. L. 2 E.] 
 
 William {outside). What is the matter? 
 
 Lambert. Open the door. [Enter William, D. L. 2 E.] 
 Am I a thief, that you must lock me up like a Newgate 
 student ? 
 
 William. Our dog is dangerous at night, and my 
 mother thought it best to prevent a too close acquaint- 
 ance between you two. Who is that knocking now ? 
 
 Lambert. Some one at the front door. 
 
 William (looking sideways through window). It is Nel- 
 lie. 
 
 Lambert. See what she wants. 
 
 [Enter Nellie, D. C] 
 
 Nellie. Pardon my haste. Are the judges here ? 
 
 [Enter Crocker and Mrs. Crocker, D. L. 2 E .] 
 
 William. Why? 
 
 Nellie. That bilious Terrill has told the Captain that, 
 most likely, he would find the judges secreted in your 
 house. Mother heard him say so, and she sent me to let 
 you know. 
 
 William (to Mrs. Crocker). Quick, mother; tell the 
 Judges to leave the house. [Exit Mrs. Crocker, D. L. 2 
 E.] (To Nellie.) We are thankful for your kindness. 
 
29 
 
 Lambert. How does the Captain, Nellie? 
 
 Nellie. He is as mad as a defeated politician. He 
 swears he will search every house in town. The Judges 
 are safe? 
 
 William. They will be now. Again we thank you. 
 
 Nellie. Then I will hurry home. [Exit, I). C] 
 
 Lambert (talking to himself '). How could it be done? 
 
 We muddled him up so nicely last night. Could we 
 not do so again ? 
 
 [Re-enter Mrs. Crocker, D. L. 2 E.] 
 
 William. Well, mother, are they stirring? 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. They are dressing themselves. Mr. 
 Goffe says that in case the Captain should come before 
 they have left the house, to retain him. 
 
 Lambert. That is the programme. Of course it can be 
 done. Yes, yes, that is the scheme. 
 
 William. Has he gone mad ? He is talking to him- 
 self. 
 . Crocker. Give him a glass of ale. 
 
 Lambert. The cage can be hidden. That all can be 
 done. 
 
 William. He is dreaming abouc cages. He is mad, 
 sure. 
 
 Crocker. Here, Lambert, what is wrong? Are you 
 talking to a ghost? 
 
 Lambert. Did you hear me think? 
 
 William. We heard you talking about cages. 
 
 Lambert. The Judges ordered a cage to be ready for a 
 bear. 
 
 Crocker. The cage is ready. What of that ? 
 
 Lambert. Now r , friends, listen. You will all see the 
 necessity to bring this chasing the Judges to an 
 end. To do this, we must try to separate the Captain 
 from his men. If I mistake not, the friendship between 
 them is rotten. What pleasure can they find in follow- 
 ing such a conceited ass? The second point is, w T e must 
 make the Captain so ridiculous that he will never ven- 
 ture back to England, for fear of being laughed at all his 
 life. His vanity is his tenderest spot. We must stick 
 him there. 
 
 William. Shall we engrave three letters on his brow 
 with a fluid, such as the sailors u^e to ornament their 
 bare arms with hearts and anchor.-? I know how it is 
 done. 
 
 Lambert. If you will waste the time with nonsense, 
 then go on. 
 
 William. It is not a bad suggestion. The letters 
 could never be washed off again. 
 
 Crocker. Tell your tongue to sleep awhile, and let it 
 
30 
 
 dream of your suggestion] Lambert, let us hear your 
 scheme. 
 
 Lambert. Mrs. Crocker, will you put a table cloth on 
 this table, and also every cap, saucer and dish in your 
 possession to make it appear as if you expected com- 
 pany ? 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. To please you I will do so 
 
 Lambert. Bring the intention and the act as closely 
 together as you can. In other words, do so at once. 
 The Captain might be here at any moment. 
 
 Crocker. Can we be of any service? 
 
 Lambert. Fetch in the cage and place it in this cor- 
 ner. [Pointing to R. upper E. and R. C. Exit Crocker 
 and William D. L. 2 E.~] 
 
 Lambert. Mrs. Crocker, have you some cloth to hide 
 the cage with, and make it appear like a wardrobe? 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. I have plenty. 
 
 Lambert. Will you go and get it? 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. I will. [Exit D. L. 2 E.] 
 
 Lambert. Now, if we could dose the soldiers with some 
 wine and bribe them in our favor. With men like these, 
 a brimful glass has more effect than gold. The touch of 
 gold raises a greed for more, but a few loaded glasses will 
 drown both greed and duty. 
 
 [Re-enter Crocker and William with cage, D. L. 2 E.] 
 
 William. Great Caesar, here we are. 
 
 Lambert. Let me see how the cage is fixed. Turn it 
 around, the door in front, a little closer to the wall. 
 
 Crocker. Against the wall ? 
 
 Lambert. No, not against it. Let the back part of the 
 cage and the corner form a triangle, so. Now, down with 
 it. William, get a hammer and a few small nails. Be 
 quick ! 
 
 [Exit William, D. L. 2 E.] 
 
 Crocker. My imagination is not very active, and I fail 
 to understand the nature of these preparations. 
 
 Lambert. What knows a blacksmith about strategy ; 
 about pitfalls and hidden batteries? He keeps on beat- 
 ing till he has things in shape. 
 
 Crocker. That should be a soldier's maxim. 
 
 Lambert. The contrary, sir. A soldier's business is to 
 beat things out of shape. Look at a battlefield when the 
 dance is over. I can assure you, you never saw such an 
 out-of- shape confusion. 
 
 [Re-enter William and Mrs. Crocker, D. L. 2 E.] 
 
 Lambert. Here, William, tack this cloth in front of 
 the cage. Let two ends meet in the center, where the 
 door is, and fasten the other ends against the walls. Mrs. 
 Crocker, have vou a few bottles of wine? 
 
31 
 
 3Trs. Crocker. William shall get some. 
 
 Crocker. Will brandy not do as well ? 
 
 Lambert. Much better, if you have it. 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. There are four bottles in the cupboard. 
 William. How is thi3? 
 
 Lambert. That will do nicely. Now, Mrs. Crocker, all 
 will depend on you, how you manage to deceive the Cup- 
 tain. When he comes in, you play the innocent; pre- 
 tending to be much surprised at his coming, though you 
 must not seem adverse to it. In confidence you tell him 
 that your son is^in love with Maria Goffe, which state of 
 affairs you do not approve of, and that you are willing to 
 do anything that will separate them, but as your hus- 
 band and your son are friendly to the Judges, you must 
 act in secret. {Knocking without.) 
 
 Crocker. See who it is. 
 
 William. {Looking behind the window curtain.) The 
 Captain. 
 
 Lambert. Quick, Crocker ! Get the Judges out of the 
 house. [Exit Crocker, D. L. 2 E.] William, we two 
 will hide behind the cage. Mrs. Crocker, open the door 
 now, or else he will break it in. [Lambert and William 
 hide behind cage. Enter Dobson and Soldiers, D. C] 
 
 Dobson.. Why was not the door opened at once ? 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. 1 beg your pardon, sir ; I happened to 
 be in the yard. 
 
 Dobson. I have good reasons to suspect that the 
 Judges are hiding in your house. In the name of the 
 King, I claim the right to search it. 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. Oh, how you frighten me! 
 
 Dobson. Your paleness is the best answer to my 
 charge and confirms my suspicion. Where are they? 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. You are too hasty, sir. 
 
 Dobson. Too hasty? Come, stand aside! 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. The Judges are not in the house. I 
 only wish they were, so you could catch them. No 
 greater service could you do me. 
 
 Dobson. Two of you hold the woman, the rest follow 
 me. 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. You are mad, sir. 
 
 Dobson. Think you can keep me idle here with your 
 tricky talk, and give the Judges time to escape me? 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. Go and search, but if you do not find 
 them, I will not stir a foot to help you. A more sus- 
 picious man was not born. 
 
 Dobson. What proofs are there that you do not play 
 me false? 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. This table here is a proof, right before 
 your eyes. The Judges always come here to take their 
 
32 
 
 morning meal, and they will do so this morning. Please 
 sir, understand that I am no friend of the Judges. 
 
 Dobson. Is not your son engaged to marry Miss Goffe? 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. The very reason why I hate them. The 
 lady is not fit company for my eon, and the more I see of 
 her the more I am convinced. She treats me like a ser- 
 vant ; orders me about with an air as if she paid me 
 wages. 
 
 Dobson. Did I not hear a noise? 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. If you still mistrust me go and search; 
 the door is open. But if you find no sign of them I will 
 close the house and you can go and search for them else- 
 where. 
 
 Dobson. Suppose I trust you. How could you assist 
 me? 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. As I said before, the Judges will take 
 here their morning meal. I do not like it, and I often 
 feel tempted to poison them; but what can I do? Both 
 my husbnnd and my son run after them like slaves. Be- 
 lieve me, sir, that every woman is at heart a royalist. 
 They may not always dare to show it, but when they are 
 amongst themselves their true feelings soon come to the 
 surface. Now, let me point out how the arrest of the 
 Judges would serve me. 
 
 Dobson. You think it would break off the match be- 
 tween your son and Maria Goffe? 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. My only hope, and therefore I am will- 
 ing to do all I can to help you. 
 
 Dobson. When will the Judges be here? 
 
 3frs. Crocker. They generally come at sevf n o'clock. 
 It is ten minutes to seven now. However, I think it best 
 that you should look over the house'yourself to convince 
 you that there is no deception. (Aside.) I know the 
 Judges have departed. 
 
 Dobson. I will do so, madam. 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. Let your men remain here. I do not 
 wish that they should disturb my things. 
 
 Dobson. As you please. [Exit, L. 2 E.] 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. Gentlemen, will you do me a favor and 
 give me your opinion about this liquor. It is supposed 
 to be over fifteen years old. It was recommended to us 
 as a remedy against seasickness, but we never had an 
 occasion to use it. We brought it with us from old Eng- 
 land. Well, gentlemen, what think you of it? 
 
 Green. By Mahomet and all the 'Prophets, a gentle 
 spirit. 
 
 Plumer. It goes down like oil. 
 
 Brown. I don ; t like age, but age in liquor makes me 
 feel young. 
 
33 
 
 Davis. That is what I call a civilized liquid ; it does 
 not strangle nor choke you. 
 
 Gibson. If such a nectar filled every sea, 
 
 The devil himself would go on a spree. 
 
 Brooks. Very good stuff, indeed. 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. May I serve you again? 
 
 .Green. By Mahomet aud all his Prophets, I will not 
 refuse. 
 
 Plumer. I can't stand on one leg. 
 
 Gibson. No more for me, Madam; one is enough. 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. A good soldier should not refuse to go 
 into the fire. 
 
 Green. Very true, Madam, but I hope you will not 
 take us for bottle heroes or courage suckers. 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. It was not my intention to convey that 
 impression. 
 
 Brown. I wiU sooner be shot with four ounces of this 
 stuff than with half an ounce of cold lead. 
 
 [Re-enter Dobson L. 2 E]. 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. I forgot all 
 about the dog; how thoughtless of me. He has not done 
 you any harm? Come, I will go with you. 
 
 Dobson. I trust you, Madam, but undei stand that I 
 do not fear your dog. I would have killed him if it had 
 not deprived me of your good will. 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. I would sconer lose a thousand dogs 
 than lose the chance of my revenge. In doing this, I am 
 not serving you ; I only serve my hate. There, the clock 
 strikes seven. They will be here soon. It would not do 
 that all your men should be seen here. The Judges 
 might look through the window before they come in, and 
 seeing them, would turn and fly to a place of safety. Let 
 them step in this room. [Going to D. upper E.'\ 
 
 Dobson. Step into yonder room. [Exit Soldiers, D. 
 upper E.] 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. . I will break a plate ; let that be the sign 
 for you and your men to come forward. 
 
 Dobson. Where will you hide me? 
 
 Mrs. Crocker. Will you take a little brandy to en- 
 courage you ? 
 
 - Dobson. Just a little. [At this moment William steps 
 forward, throws a cloth over Dobson's head, and holds him 
 in his arms.] 
 
 William. Take off his sword. Have you got it? 
 
 Lambert. I have. Now, in with him. 
 
 [William forces Dobson into the cage. Curtain.] 
 
34 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 [SCENE 1. Same as Act IT, Scene III. Mrs. Light- 
 foot, Nellie and Terrill discovered-] 
 
 Mrs. Lightfoot. Has the last night's adventure driven 
 all the sleep out of you, Terrill? You have not been in 
 bed four hour^. 
 
 Terrill. You should not have put me in the same room 
 with the Captain. He is so alarmed that the Judges may 
 escape him, that between his running to the window to 
 see if daylight had appeared, and his asking questions, I 
 have not slept a wink. 
 
 Mrs. Lightfoot. Now that the Captain has gone on his 
 mission you may retrieve what you have lost in sleep by 
 lying down again for a few hours. 
 
 Terrill. I am not feeling well, and would be obliged 
 to vou if you could serve me with a cup of tea. 
 
 Mrs. Lightfoot. That is easily prepared. I will do so. 
 
 [ExitD. R. C] 
 
 Terrill. Your mother (old me that she would have no 
 objection to our marriage. 
 
 Nelllie. But I have. 
 
 Terrill. Can yon give a reason why? 
 
 Nellie. What reason does it need?" I do not love you. 
 Is not that sufficient? 
 
 Terrill. Your aversion to me may be a mere caprice. 
 You should look for a cause, and perhaps finding none, 
 you may change. 
 
 Nellie. Let us change the subject. I have told you 
 often enough that between you and me there is a desert 
 on which roses will never grow. 
 
 Terrill. I wish I had never seen you. 
 
 Nellie. Did I ever send you an invitation? 
 
 Terrill. I suppose you intend to die an old' maid? 
 
 Nellie. If that reflection gives you any satisfaction you 
 are welcome to it. 
 
 TerriU. I know what is going on. You cannot deceive 
 me. 
 
 Nellie. I never thought it worth while to deceive you. 
 
 Terrill. Sir Beef is paying you a great deal of atten- 
 tion. 
 
 Nellie. Please, who is that person ? 
 
 Terrill. You know very well whom I mean. 
 
 Nellie. Is it he who calls you Sir Ribs? 
 
 Terrill. What do you know about this man's history? 
 He may be a criminal. I have heard that he has a wife 
 and two children living in England. Did he come out 
 here to improve his health? There are bad rumors about 
 him in circulation. 
 
3-5 
 
 Nellie. By every word you utter you tear off a patch 
 thai, hides your true character. 
 
 Terrill. I warn you because I love you. 
 
 Nellie. Your hate should not tempt you to mak ) your- 
 self despicable. 
 
 Terrill. You will drive me mad. 
 
 [Re-enter Mrs. Lightfoot, I). R. C] 
 
 Mrs. Lightfoot. Your tea is ready. 
 
 [Exit Terrill, D. R. C] 
 
 Nellie. Mama, did you tell Terrill that you would have 
 no objection if I married him? 
 
 Mrs. Lightfoot I told him that if I was a youni; g irl [ 
 would not look at him, but that you could do a=? you 
 liked, I would not interfere with your choice, knowing 
 that t can trust your common sense. 
 
 Nellie. The silly fool, he wanted ma to give him a 
 reason why I did nor, love him. A.8 if his whole com- 
 plexion was not a public notice. He is saturated to the 
 bones with jealousy. Like a thief, he prowls around the 
 house an I watches everyone who goes in and out. What 
 a life that would be to live with such a man. No! no! 
 never! never! 
 
 [Enter Lambert and Soldiers,!). L. 2 E.} 
 
 Lambert. Good news, Nellie, The country is safe. 
 
 Mrs. Lightfoot. Where is the Captain? 
 
 Lambert. Mrs. Lightfoot, let the faucet spout; those 
 sods of Mars are thirsty. 
 
 Green. Madam, we have discharged the Captain. I 
 am the Captain, now. Don't you think I am a good 
 Captain? • 
 
 Lambert. An excellent Captain when you are in humor. 
 
 Green. I am in humor; in a devilish wet humor, too. 
 Do you think I am full? 
 
 Lambert. If your humor is wet hang it in the sun to 
 dry. 
 
 Green. You think I am full. I have money to pay for 
 the stuff. Here is a shilling. 
 
 Lambert. You are a man of spirit, but if you meet 
 with a spirit whose name is Alcohol, don't disturb him. 
 He has made a fool of wiser men than you are. Come, 
 boys, drink your ale. This is the stuff that will animate, 
 but not easily intoxicate. 
 
 Green. I will pay for it. 
 
 Brown. Keep your money in your pocket ; you will 
 soon have need for it. 
 
 Lambert. Come, boys, let me give you a toast : 
 
 Here is to the country where common 
 
 sense shall reign, 
 Where liberty shad walk without ball and 
 chain. 
 
36 
 
 All. Bravo! bravo! 
 
 Plumer. Gibson, give us a toast; you are the poet of 
 the company. 
 
 All. Yes, Gibson, give us a toast 
 
 Gibson. Now, friends, as we have said the old world 
 adieu, 
 Like a lovelv bride let us embrace the new. 
 
 All. Bravo! bravo! 
 
 Lambert. Three cheers For America! 
 
 All. Hurrah ! hurrah ! hurrah ! 
 
 Mrs. Lightfoot. If you keep on like this you will have 
 the whole crowd drunk befoi e night. 
 
 Lambert. Let them have something to eat ; that will 
 sober them up. Come, boys, go into the dining-room; 
 breakfast is waiting lor you. Your great Captain did not 
 even give you time to eat. 
 
 Plumer. May all the devils damn him. Come, boys! 
 
 Green. Give me your arm, Brown. 
 
 Brown. The bottle has played hell with your wits. 
 
 Green. We go to hell anyway; we might as well get 
 there fighting as crawling. 
 
 [Exit Mrs. Lightfoot and soldiers, D. R. C. < 
 
 Lambert. Nellie, you are a girl fit for a soldier. 
 
 Nellie. That would depend on what sort of a soldier 
 it is. 
 
 Lambert. You mean to say that there are soldiers and 
 so-so soldiers? 
 
 Nellie. Exactly. 
 
 Lambert. Tell me what kind of a soldier would agree 
 with you? There is the blood-thirsty soldier,' who never 
 lets an occasion slip to fire at an enemy, should he but 
 show his little finger above the entrenchments. Then, 
 there is the plundering soldier, who has joined the army 
 to gather spoils. His mind is full of hidden treasures. 
 I have known some of them that would slide down into 
 wells and fish for jewelry and diamonds. Then there is 
 the soldier of principle, who has joined the army to de- 
 fend a good cause. 
 
 Nellie. Have you any relation with either of them? 
 
 Lambert. I am not the coachman of my own virtues ; 
 but I can, with a true conscience, say that my father 
 sacrificed his life to keep liberty awake. There was no 
 need for him to exchange comfoit and ease with -the 
 hardships of a soldier in time of war. Yet he sacrificed 
 everything to destroy arrogant despotism. A smart, cal- 
 culating man may call this an act of an idiot, but I sin- 
 cerely hope the time will never come — should the occa- 
 sion arise — that this country will be lacking such fools. 
 
Nellie. A father's coat may fit the son ; but that does 
 not follow that it will cover as good a heart. 
 
 Lambert. Quite true, my girl; quite true. Yet there 
 may be a little truth in the saying that an apple never 
 falls far from its tree. 
 
 Nellie. It seems you are not aware that there are bad 
 rumors about you in circulation. 
 
 Lambert. Poor Terrill ! On my soul, I pity him. 
 
 Nellie. You should prevent him from spreading such 
 reports. 
 
 Lambert. Why should I? If it amu c es him let him 
 e ljoy himself to his heart's content. It is not the ill re- 
 ports of men we despise that wound our feelings, but of 
 those that we esteem. 
 
 Nellie. He says you have wife and child living in 
 England. 
 
 Lambert. Mi*. Whalley has known me f-inee I was a 
 boy ; if he says there is a woman living in England who 
 can cairn to be my wife, I will send for her. 
 
 Nellie. He also hints that you are an escaped criminal. 
 
 Lambert. Mark my words, he will never, be satisfied 
 until he has circulated the story that my mother was a 
 daughter of the pirate Captain Nutt. How-ever, I am 
 much obliged to him. There is nothing like having a 
 few rattling, scratching, biting, roaring, tearing, snap- 
 ping, snarling enemies. They keep the conceit out of 
 one's system an/1 the blood in good circulation. I will 
 sooner part with two dozen lame friends than with one 
 of my choice enemies. 
 
 Nellie. What enmity can he have against the Judges 
 that he should betray tiiem to the Captain ? 
 
 Lambert. His soul is so small that there is no room in 
 it for anybody but himself. He thought he would do us 
 a great deal of harm by telling the Captain where he 
 could find the Judges, and, actually, he has done us a 
 great deal of good. 
 
 Nellie. What have you done with the Captain ? 
 
 Lambert. We have locked him up, his men have de- 
 serted him, and that will end the business. 
 
 Nellie. And what do you intend to do with the Cap- 
 tain ? 
 
 Lambert. Hang him. 
 
 Nellie. You shall not do it. 
 
 Lambert. If you say so, we will let him off" with a 
 good switching. 
 
 Nellie. Will he not return to England and report? 
 
 Lambert. I think not. His funds are very low ; yes- 
 terday he presented a check to Mr. Eaton, indorsed by 
 the Governor of Massachusetts, but Mr. Eaton refused 
 
38 
 
 to cash it, knowing that without money he could not run 
 very far. 
 
 Nellie. Is Mr. Eaton friendly to the Judges? 
 
 Lambert. He would do anything to assist them. I 
 hold another card up ray sleeve that I think will prevent 
 him from making further trouble; I have a good pros- 
 pect to secure the warrant that was given him to prove 
 his authority to arrest the Judges. If I do secure it, I 
 will give him to understand that I intend to return the 
 warrant to Lord Clarendon with a short description of 
 how he managed this affair. I don't believe he will have 
 gall enough to present himself before his Lordship again. 
 
 Nellie. You are awful sly ; I am almost afraid of you. 
 
 Lamb&rt. Shall I shave off my beard? 
 
 Nellie. I believe there is no sincerity in a man without 
 a beard. 
 
 Lambert. I think I shall soon marry a very sensible 
 woman. 
 
 Nellie. What is she like? 
 
 Lambert. She is not too lean and not too stout, 
 
 She has brown eyes and a pretty mouth, 
 She is not too big and not too small, 
 She is beloved by one and all, 
 Though some say she is rather bold, 
 But that will mend when she grows old. 
 
 Nellie. For heaven's sake, are you in love with me, 
 That you must rattle, prattle po-e-try? 
 
 Lambert. The nail, my love, you hit it on the head ; 
 What do you say if to-night we wed ? 
 
 Nellie. To-night? So soon? Well, I will consent; 
 And trust that time your faults will mend. 
 
 Lambert. That time is mending, let me now it prove, 
 For by kissing you I prove my love. 
 
 [Re-enter Mrs. Lightfoot and Soldiers, D. R, C] 
 
 Green. I will bet any son of a mother a shilling that 
 that young lady's first name is Elizabeth. 
 
 [Exit -Lambert and Nellie, D. L. 2 E.] 
 
 Plumer, Put up your money. 
 
 Green. Here-, Mrs. Lightfoot. Where is yours? 
 
 Plumer. Brown, lend me a shilling. 
 
 Brown. Do you think I have a cousin in the bank of 
 England? 
 
 Green. Hang such beggars! Mrs. Lightfoot, let us 
 have some ale. 
 
 Mrs. Lightfoot. You should not drink any more to-day. 
 
 Green. ' We will drink less to-morrow. You have my 
 shilling. Translate it into liquid. 
 
 [Enter Jenkins, D. L. 2 E.} 
 
 Plumer Is that you, Jenkins? 
 
39 
 
 Jenkins. The very same. 
 
 Green. Give us your hand, you old dog. Did you 
 come here to have a look at the Captain? It will cost 
 you a sixpence now to look at him. 
 
 Jenkins. Where is the Captain? 
 
 Brown. Have you not heard what has happened? 
 
 Jenkins. I just come from the Governor. 
 
 Green. Where is my shilling? 
 
 Mrs. Lightfoot. Here is your ale, sir. 
 
 Green. Give us a glass for this ruffian. Now, Jenkey, 
 if you are a man, put up your sixpence. 
 
 Brooks. His name is not Jenkey. 
 
 Green. I say his name is Jenkey. 
 
 Jenkins. How about the Captain? 
 
 Plumer. Boxed up like a monkey. 
 
 Green. We will put him on a monkey ranch and feed 
 him on worms. He shall eat all the book-worms and all 
 the books too. If that does not make him wise, why 
 hit him with a riddle. What have I done with my shill- 
 ing? 
 
 Brown. Your shilling is all right. There, drink your 
 ale. 
 
 Green. Heave to, boys. Here is good luck to all the 
 girls in the colonies. May they all be as bright as a 
 star, as warm as the sun, and as jolly as myself. I am a 
 little full, but I am not drunk. An American citizen 
 should not get drunk. (They all drink.) 
 
 Jenkins. But tell me where is the Captain ? 
 
 Davis. Some men in this town have made a cage and 
 have shut him up in it. 
 
 Jenkins. That is a good joke. Ha ! ha ! ha ! And you 
 did not interfere ? 
 
 Plumer. Why should we? 
 
 Gibson. Jenkins, have you got the Captain's warrant? 
 
 Jenkins. I have. 
 
 Gibson. How did you come by it? 
 
 Jenkins. I asked him one day to let me read it, and as 
 he forgot to demand it back again, I kept it, thinking that 
 by doing so I would take the sting out of him, should he 
 become disagreeable. 
 
 Plumer. There is a man in this town who will pay 
 you ten pounds for it. 
 
 Jenkins. Where is he ? 
 
 Plumer. I will show you the man. 
 
 Davis. What have you done with your uniform ? 
 
 Jenkins. Hung it up. 
 
 Brown. What are your prospects? 
 
 Jenkins. Mrs. Lightfoot, will you fill the glasses? I 
 intend to join an expedition against the Indians. They 
 
40 
 
 have become very troublesome of late. The Governor 
 called for fifty men. 
 
 Green. Put me down for one of the crew. 
 
 Plumer. I am your man. 
 
 Brooks. So am I. 
 
 Gibson. What say you, Brown ? 
 
 Brown. I won't be left behind. 
 
 Gibson. Does the Governor furnish the outfit? 
 
 Jenkins. That is understood. 
 
 Green. Jenkey, put them all down, or put them all 
 up, to put down the Indians You shall be our leader, 
 Jenkey. The name of Jenkey shall be a terror to all the 
 Indians. We will drive all the Indians into India. There 
 shall no longer be an India without Indians.. 
 
 Jenkins. Your glasses are waiting, friends. 
 
 All. (Singing) : 
 
 Friends and comrades, clear your voices, 
 
 Let the air consume the sound, 
 Fool is he who not rejoices 
 
 When the cup goes merry round. 
 Let the scholars do the thinking. 
 
 About science let them blow, 
 Let the soldiers do the drinking, 
 
 We must die, that's all we know. 
 Life is short ; why should we worry, 
 
 Pass the time in dodging Nick? 
 We will drink, and we'll be rnerr)^, 
 
 If he wants to, let him kick. 
 
 [SCENE II.— A street. Enter William and Maria, R. 
 IE.] 
 
 William. So, your father has bought Mr. Marshall's 
 farm ? 
 
 Maria. Yes, and intends to end his days as a farmer. 
 
 William. And Mr. Whalley? 
 
 Maria. He will stay with us, of course. Nothing 
 could separate the two but death, and that, I hope, will 
 not happen for many years to come. 
 
 William. As your father has now fixed his abode in a 
 certain place, it appears that he does not anticipate fur- 
 ther trouble. 
 
 Maria. I believe my welfare was more in his mind 
 than his own inclinations when he took this step. What 
 greatly increased his desire to possess the farm was the 
 nearness of the cave. Should the King make another 
 effort to secure his person, it will always give him and 
 Mr. Whalley a safe retreat, as the cave is only known to 
 Mr. Graham and Mr. Marshall. 
 
41 
 
 William. When will Mr. Marshall leave the farm? 
 
 Maria He hopes to have all his affairs settled within 
 fourteen days. My father is now fretting about some- 
 thing else. 
 
 William. May 1 know it? 
 
 Maria. Do you truly love me, William ; 
 
 William. Sure, you do not doubt it? 
 
 Maria. Oh, no 
 " William. Well? 
 
 Maria. Father thinks you ought to go back to Cam- 
 bridge and resume your studies again. 
 
 William. Does he want to separate us? 
 
 Maria. Oh, no. But lie thinks that even if I should 
 succeed in persuading you to exchange the study of law 
 for farming, you would never be contented with its mo- 
 notony. 
 
 William. Then, either your father does not know me, 
 or else I do not know myself. 
 
 Maria. It requires a simple, unambitious mind to find 
 pleasure in such an occupation. 
 
 William. Is it not possible that I may possess just 
 such an unambitious soul 9 
 
 Maria. The study of law opens brighter prospects. 
 
 William. What do the bright prospects avail if I lack 
 ambition? Would I have lingered here so long if my 
 blood was affected that way ? 
 Ambition is a mule 
 That carries many a fool. 
 
 Maria. Then you will not go back to Cambridge? 
 
 William. No, unless you wish me to. 
 
 Maria. And never repent it ? 
 
 William. Never fear. The law is too deep for me. 
 There is no bottom to it. It is all tangle and no twine — 
 a hungry lion that swallows those that cannot feed 
 him. I will sooner plow, pitch hay and hoe corn, 
 than hunt up precedents in a musty office. 
 
 Maria. See who comes here. [Enter Lambert and 
 Nellie, L. 1 E.] How are you, Nellie? 
 
 Nellie. Thank you, Miss Maria. 
 
 Lambert. William, just look at the shape of her head, 
 and then say if you ever suspected that she has crevices 
 in her mind which hold opinions like this ? Every batch- 
 elor is a nuisance, and should be hanged. 
 
 Maria. Just my opinion, Nellie. 
 
 Lambert. I don't care to stretch rope, so I made an 
 unconditional surrender. 
 
 Nellie. Fate only knows what troubles are in store for 
 me. 
 
 Lambert. Do you expect twins ? 
 
42 
 
 William. Where are you going? 
 
 Lambert. We are hunting for a minister to glue us to- 
 gether to-night. 
 
 William. What say you, Maria, shall we follow suit? 
 
 Maria. Yes ; let us see if the minister understands 
 his business. [Exit R. IE.] 
 
 [SCENE III. A market-place. A platform, on which 
 stands a cage, R.2 E., Lambert on platform, Dobson inside 
 cage; people surrounding platform discovered.] 
 
 Lambert. Ladies and gentlemen, I am in a position to 
 show you a specimen of humanity, which I hope will al- 
 ways be rare in this, but which is very numerous in the 
 old country, where every crowned head is surrounded by 
 a lot of sycophants, who poison the minds of the rulers 
 to their own advantage, and thrive by oppressing the 
 people. You all see this parasite? 
 
 Voices among crowd. We do, we do. 
 
 Lambert. Now, friends, I hope none of you will deny 
 that ambition is a good quality in a man, a^ long as he 
 confines the sphere of his ambition in a channel so that 
 it will not work injury to his fellow man. It is my opin- 
 ion that very little progress would have been made on 
 this planet of ours without ambition. The man who in- 
 vented the compass was ambitious; the man who in- 
 vented the printing type was ambitious; the man who 
 discovered. America was ambitious. 
 
 Voices among crowd. Very true, very true. 
 
 Lambert. This creature in the cage here is ambitious 
 too, but the difference of his ambition and the ambition 
 of the men I have just mentioned is this : His will pro- 
 duce misery, theirs has produce 1 prosperity; his will de- 
 stroy, theirs will build up. If you will allow me, I will 
 try to explain this more clearly. 
 
 Voices among crowd. Proceed, proceed. 
 
 Lambert. You all know that the English nation has 
 always insisted that the people sh ould have a voice in 
 the arrangement of public affairs, and that no laws 
 should be made or taxes imposed unless acquiesced in by 
 their chosen representatives. For this purpose Parlia- 
 ment was instituted. What did King Charles do when 
 he had been but a few years on the throne ? 
 
 Voices among crowd. He dismissed Parliament. 
 
 Lambert. Had he a right to do so ? 
 
 Voices among crowd. No ! no ! no ! 
 
 Lambert. He not only dismissed Parliament, but im- 
 posed taxes and made laws to suit himself. On every 
 article of necessity one of his flatterers had a monopoly, 
 
43 
 
 and no one could procure a thing without being bled by 
 one of thope extortioners. Was that wise legislation ? 
 
 Voices among crowd No! no! no! 
 
 Lambert. And what became of all this money extorted 
 from the people? Was it used to benefit the country? 
 Was it used to improve harbors ? Was it used to build 
 roads and bridges? No, it was squandered by a vain, 
 siliy coxcomb on his flatterers and mistresses. No ve.-sel 
 could venture to leave a harbor for fear of being plun- 
 dered by pirates. From ali parts of the globe they had 
 come to prey on our commerce. The whole coast of 
 England was swarming with them. They even became 
 so bold as to attack small towns and villages near tlie 
 coast, and after plundering the inhabitants, carried off 
 the young women to be sold as slaves to the Turks. A 
 King who permits such outrag s, is he fit to rule ? 
 
 Voices among crowd. No ! no ! no ! 
 
 Lambert. I will not weary you with a long story. You 
 all know what happened The state of affairs became so 
 rotten that it had to come to a point. The revolution 
 was the result. Thanks to the bold, skillful and magnifi- 
 cent management of Gromweil, the world was soon shown 
 that King Charles was a charlatan. He and his follow- 
 ers were beaten in everv battle fought. A man who had 
 brought such misery to his country ; who had sacrificed 
 the lives cf thousands of his subject* to sustain himself 
 in a position he was so unfit to hold, and who had con- 
 tumeliously trampled the laws of the nation under his feet. 
 Does such a man, even if he is a King, not deserve 
 death ? 
 
 Voices awong crowd. Yes ! yes ! yes ! 
 
 Lambert. You all know T why the present King has a 
 grudge against the Judges. When Cromwell came to the 
 conclusion that the civil war would not come to an end 
 unless the King was removed to a place where he could 
 do no further harm, the Judges sustained him in this 
 decision. That is the whole extent of their offense. I 
 hope there is not one among you who will contradict me 
 when I say that the Judges are upright, honorable and 
 desirable citizens, who should be reconciled rather than 
 prosecuted. But it seems the n sw King has learned 
 nothing by his father's terrible experience. Like his 
 father, he is a trickster and deceiver; his word of honor 
 is a mere subterfuge to catch the unwary. When Gen- 
 eral Monk brought him back from France, wmere he had 
 eaien the bread of charity, he issued a proclamation of 
 general amnesty, and promised that no one should be 
 persecuted on account of having opposed his father. 
 
44 
 
 And now that be is hardly warm on the throne what does 
 he do? He has already executed ten of Cromwell's 
 friends, and who knows how many more may follow? 
 Is that honorable ? Is that acting like a King ? 
 
 [Enter Goffe, Whalley, William and Maria, R. 1 E.] 
 
 Voices among the crowd. Three cheers for the Judges ! 
 
 All. Hurrah! Hurrah! Hurrah! 
 
 Lambert. Now, in regard to this fellow here, who was 
 sent to drag the Judges bark to England, and who, of 
 course, expected from the Kmg a fat office for his ser- 
 vice, that would keep him in ease and comfort the rest 
 of liis days, what shall we do with him ? 
 
 Voices among crowd. Hang him ! Hang him ! Get a 
 rope ! Get a rope ! 
 
 Lambert. No, friends, we will not do that yet; but 
 wiil reserve that punishment should he ever dare to show 
 his face in New Haven again. To a certain extent we 
 are under obligations to this creature, for had Lord Clar- 
 endon chosen a man more shrewd and clever, he might, 
 perhaps, have succeeded in snatching the Judges from 
 your midst. 
 
 Voices among crowd. Never! never! 
 
 Lambert. Tnis fool had not even wit enough to take 
 care of his warrant, and one of his men has sold it to me 
 this morning. Here it is. I shall send it back to Lord 
 Clarendon, with the advice that if he returns to collect 
 his wages, to put him in a museum for a curiosity. If 
 any one of you lias a piece of bread or an apple in his 
 pocket, please give it to him. He must be hungry, not 
 having had anything to eat this morning. 
 Voices among crowd. Here ! Here ! Here ! 
 
 Lambert Before I conclude, let me announce to you 
 that William Crocker and Maria Goffe will be united in 
 wedlock to-night, and that Nellie Lightfoot and I have 
 also concluded to join Cupid's army. 
 
 Voices among the crowd. Hurrah ! Hurrah ! Hurrah ! 
 
 Lambert. You are all invited to come to the City Park 
 to-night. The moon will be on duty, and a band of mu- 
 sicians will be on hand to tickle the feet of those who 
 feel inclined to dance ; and plenty of refreshments will 
 be provided, so that no one need to go to bed hungry. 
 Will you come? 
 
 All. We will ! We will ! 
 
 Lambert. William, hand me the key, so I can open 
 the padlock. We will give this rascal a little exercise. 
 [William hands a key.] Let all the young men form a 
 line. [They face ihe audience.] William, where are 
 your switches ? 
 
45 
 
 William. Here. [Gives every one a switch.] 
 
 Lambert. When he passes you, switch him as hard as 
 you can, and drive him out of town for at least two miles. 
 If he ever dares to show himself in New Haven again, a 
 rope shall be his reward. Are you ready ? 
 
 AIL We are ! We are ! 
 
 Lambert. Now, then! [Lambert opens cage; Dobson 
 rushes out and disappears, L. 2 E. All follow.] {End.) 
 
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