ANDR. Don’t you know what you ought to do?
MICH. What?
ANDR. Mete out to yourself the same measure you meted to others.
MICH. Confess—in public. I can’t! I can’t! I daren’t! I’m a coward, a weak miserable coward! Don’t judge me harshly, Andrew! Don’t be hard on me!
(Covering his face with his hands.)
ANDR. (cold, firm). Come, sir! shall we get on with our work? (Reading manuscript.) “For I acknowledge my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me.”
(MICHAEL uncovers his face and sits staring at ANDREW, who sits cold and grim on the other side of the table.)
Very slow curtain.
(A year passes between Acts III. and IV.)