THE SERGEANT.
(coming in). Time’s up, sir.
RICHARD.
Quite ready, Sergeant. Now, my dear. (He attempts to raise her.)
JUDITH.
(clinging to him). Only one thing more—I entreat, I implore you. Let me be present in the court. I have seen Major Swindon: he said I should be allowed if you asked it. You will ask it. It is my last request: I shall never ask you anything again. (She clasps his knee.) I beg and pray it of you.
RICHARD.
If I do, will you be silent?
JUDITH.
Yes.
RICHARD.
You will keep faith?
JUDITH.
I will keep— (She breaks down, sobbing.)
RICHARD.
(taking her arm to lift her). Just—her other arm, Sergeant.
They go out, she sobbing convulsively, supported by the two men.
Meanwhile, the Council Chamber is ready for the court martial. It is a large, lofty room, with a chair of state in the middle under a tall canopy with a gilt crown, and maroon curtains with the royal monogram G. R. In front of the chair is a table, also draped in maroon, with a bell, a heavy inkstand, and writing materials on it. Several chairs are set at the table. The door is at the right hand of the occupant of the chair of state when it has an occupant: at present it is empty. Major Swindon, a pale, sandy-haired, very conscientious looking man of about 45, sits at the end of the table with his back to the door, writing. He is alone until the sergeant announces the General in a subdued manner which suggests that Gentlemanly Johnny has been making his presence felt rather heavily.