The Magistrate.
Remove the woman! [Soldiers force her back.]
The Young Slave.
There, good mother, hush! [Soothingly.]
This deed the mountain’s self will yet avenge! [The other Slaves assent.]
The Friend.
[Steps forward.]
Pardon. A word I’d venture, by your leave! [To the Magistrate.]
The Townclerk.
Your name, young man?