We would not that the body and soul both perish; and we therefore urge you to be diligent in the work brother, very diligent for the little time that is now left to make your calling and election sure. Be ready for the afternoon of the morrow.
Hitherto the prisoner at the bar had shown little or no emotion; hitherto he had argued and looked as if he did not believe the jury nor the judges capable of doing what they had now done, nor the multitude that knew him, capable of enduring it. Hitherto he had been as it were a spectator of the terrible farce, with no concern for the issue; but now ... now ... all eyes were rivetted upon him with fear, all thoughts with alarm; for though he stood up as before, and made no sort of reply to the judges, and bore the wracking of the heavy irons with which they were preparing to load him, as if he neither felt nor saw them; yet was there a something in his look which made the officers of the court unsheathe their swords, and lift up their axes, and the people who were occupied about him, keep as far out of his reach as they possibly could.
Yet he neither moved nor spoke, till he saw the women crowding up to a part of the house where he had seen Elizabeth Dyer, and stoop as if she that had been kneeling there a few moments before, lay very low, and lift her up as if she had no life in her, and carry her away, guarded by men with pikes, and with swords and with huge firelocks. Then he was moved—and his chains were felt for the first time, and he would have called out for a breath of air—prayed for a drop of water to save a life more precious by far than his—but before he could open his mouth so as to make himself heard, he saw Rachel Dyer pressing up to the bar of death, and heard the judges call out to the high-sheriff and his man to guard the door, and look to the prisoner.
He will get away if you turn your head, Mr. sheriff, said one of the judges.
That he will, added a witness, that he will! if you don’t look sharp, as sure as my name is Peter P.
Watch and pray—watch and pray—added another.
Burroughs looked up to the bench with surprise, then at the people, who were watching every motion of his body as if they expected him to tear away the ponderous fetters and walk forth as free as the wind of the desert, and then at the blacksmith who stood near with his hammer uplifted in the air; and then his chest heaved and his chains shook, and the people hurried away from his path, and tumbled over each other in their eagerness to escape, and the chief-judge cried out again to the officer to look to the door and be prepared for a rescue.
Let me be tried now! I entreat thee, said Rachel Dyer, throwing up her locked-hands before Judge Winthrop, and speaking as if she was about to plead not for death but for life. Let me be tried now, I beseech thee.
Now.—
Yea—now!—before the maiden is brought back to life. O let her be at peace, ye men of power, till I have a—have a—