_Olive._ I know not. I only know I would be faithful to my poor
father. But 'twas his last wish that I should wed thee thus.

_Paul._ Yes, dear.

_Olive._ He said so that morning before his trial. Oh, Paul, I can
see it now, the trial! I have been to the trial every day since.
Shall I go every day of my life? Perchance thou may often come home
and find thy wife gone to the trial, and no supper. I will go on my
wedding-day; my father shall have no slights put upon him. I can see
him stand there, mute. They cry out upon him and mock him and lay
false charges upon him, and he stands mute. The judge declares the
dreadful penalty, and he stands mute. Oh, my father, my poor father!
I tell ye my father will not mind anything. The Governor and the
justices may command him as they will, the afflicted may clamor and
gibe as they will, and I may pray to him, but he will not mind, he
will stand mute. I tell ye there be not power enough in the colony
to make him speak. Ye know not my father. He will have the best of
it.

_Paul._ Thou speakest like his daughter now. Keep thyself up to
this, sweet. The daughter of a hero should have some brave stuff in
her. Thy father does a greater deed than thou knowest. His dumbness
will save the colonies from more than thou dreamest of. 'Twill put
an end to this dreadful madness; he himself hath foretold it. [_A
clamor is heard._

_Olive._ Paul, Paul, what is that?