CRIER OF THE COURT.
Silence!

MARGRAVE (_turning to_ GODFREY, _who is gazing_
_at_ JUDGE BOLTON).
You seem surprised. Has he outlived the likeness
Kept in your mind? Seems he another man?

GODFREY.
He is another man. The soul has wrought
Its work, as 'twere, with fire, and purified
The dross of selfish passion from his aims.
I read the victory on his open brow,
And in the deep repose of his calm eye.

MARGRAVE.
His was a noble nature from the first.

GODFREY.
He had a searching mind, a strong, warm heart,
And impulses of nobleness and truth.
But Nature sets her favorite sons a task:
We are not good by chance. Bolton had pride--
An overweening pride in his own powers.
This pride obeys the will; and when the brain
Is mean and narrow, like a low-roofed dungeon,
And only keeps one image there confined--
The image of self--the heart soon yields its truth,
And makes this self its idol, aim, and end.
Such is the Haman pride that mars the man,