JUDITH.
(coming to Essie and throwing a protecting arm about her). I will. You should be burnt alive.
ESSIE.
But I don’t want to. (She shrinks back, leaving Richard and Judith face to face.)
RICHARD.
(to Judith). Actually doesn’t want to, most virtuous lady!
UNCLE TITUS.
Have a care, Richard Dudgeon. The law—
RICHARD.
(turning threateningly on him). Have a care, you. In an hour from this there will be no law here but martial law. I passed the soldiers within six miles on my way here: before noon Major Swindon’s gallows for rebels will be up in the market place.
ANDERSON.
(calmly). What have we to fear from that, sir?
RICHARD.
More than you think. He hanged the wrong man at Springtown: he thought Uncle Peter was respectable, because the Dudgeons had a good name. But his next example will be the best man in the town to whom he can bring home a rebellious word. Well, we’re all rebels; and you know it.
ALL THE MEN (except Anderson).
No, no, no!
RICHARD.
Yes, you are. You haven’t damned King George up hill and down dale as I have; but you’ve prayed for his defeat; and you, Anthony Anderson, have conducted the service, and sold your family bible to buy a pair of pistols. They mayn’t hang me, perhaps; because the moral effect of the Devil’s Disciple dancing on nothing wouldn’t help them. But a Minister! (Judith, dismayed, clings to Anderson) or a lawyer! (Hawkins smiles like a man able to take care of himself) or an upright horsedealer! (Uncle Titus snarls at him in rags and terror) or a reformed drunkard (Uncle William, utterly unnerved, moans and wobbles with fear) eh? Would that show that King George meant business—ha?
ANDERSON.
(perfectly self-possessed). Come, my dear: he is only trying to frighten you. There is no danger. (He takes her out of the house. The rest crowd to the door to follow him, except Essie, who remains near Richard.)