Servant. Your worship is asked for at the door.
Governor. Say I am coming. We'll speak again of this.
[Exit Servant.
I must be gone. We servants of the State
Are slaves to show, and serve the people best
When most we trick them. The pageant of the day
Goes much against my better judgment, but
The crowd will have it so, and so farewell.
Roger. One moment, if you please. If he revives
He'll pick the thread of life up where he dropt it;
He may desire to preach, as he hath promised you,
And, if he doth, 'twere better not to thwart him.
Governor. Very well. I'll speak to Wilson.
Roger. I'm sorry I cannot go with you. Farewell.
Exit Governor. Dimsdell moves. Roger goes to his side and examines him.
The pulse hath quickened. He moves his lips.
Dimsdell mumbles indistinctly.