J. F. ( Aside: Two quires that I couldn’t sell, damn it!)
Mr. H. We put this paper in, my lord. Your lordship will notice the vileness of the incendiarism contained in it. I specially draw your attention to this article by one Bax, who as you will see, is familiar with the use of dynamite to a fearful extent. (J. N. reads, muttering “ Curse of Civilisation.”) Gentlemen of the Jury that is our case.
J. N. ( looking up from “ Commonweal ”). Prisoner at the bar, what have you to say? Do you call witnesses?
J. F. Yes, I call witnesses, but I haven’t much to say. I am accused of obstruction, but I shan’t argue that point, as I know that I should do myself no good by proving that I had not obstructed. I am accused of being a Socialist and a revolutionist. Well, if you, my lord, and you, gentlemen of the Jury, and the classes to which you belong, knew what Socialism means—and I fear you take some pains not to—you would also know what the condition of things is now, and how necessary revolution is. So if it is a crime to be a Socialist and a revolutionist, I have committed that crime; but the charge against me is that I am a criminal fool, which I am not. And my witnesses will show you, gentlemen of the Jury, that the evidence brought against me is a mass of lies of the silliest concoction. That is, they will show it you if you are sensible men and understand your position as jurymen, which I almost fear you do not. Well, it will not be the first time that the judge has usurped the function of the jury, and I would go to prison cheerfully enough if I could hope it would be the last.
[ He pauses as if to listen. Confused noises and the sound of the “ Marseillaise ” a long way off. ( Aside: What is it, I wonder?—No; it’s nothing.)
J. N. Prisoner, what is the matter with you? You seem to be intoxicated; and indeed I hope you are, for nothing else could excuse the brutality of your language.
J. F. Oh, don’t put yourself out, my lord. You’ve got the whip-hand of me, you know. I thought I heard an echo; that’s all. Well, I will say no more, but call the Archbishop of Canterbury.
[ Enter the Archbishop, who is received with much reverence and attention. He is sworn.
J. F. Your Grace, were you present at the meeting at Beadon Road where I was arrested?
Arch. Yes—yes, I was there. Strange to say, it was on a Sunday morning. I needed some little refreshment from the toils of ecclesiastical office. So I took a cab, I admit under the pretext of paying a visit to my brother of London; and having heard the fame of these Socialist meetings, I betook me to one of them for my instruction and profit: for I hold that in these days even those that are highest in the Church should interest themselves in social matters.