JUDITH (resisting Burgoyne quietly and drawing her hand
away). No: I must stay. I won't look. (She goes to the
right of the gallows. She tries to look at Richard, but turns
away with a frightful shudder, and falls on her knees in prayer.
Brudenell comes towards her from the back of the square.)

BURGOYNE (nodding approvingly as she kneels). Ah, quite so. Do
not disturb her, Mr. Brudenell: that will do very nicely.
(Brudenell nods also, and withdraws a little, watching her
sympathetically. Burgoyne resumes his former position, and takes
out a handsome gold chronometer.) Now then, are those
preparations made? We must not detain Mr. Dudgeon.

By this time Richard's hands are bound behind him; and the noose
is round his neck. The two soldiers take the shaft of the wagon,
ready to pull it away. The executioner, standing in the cart
behind Richard, makes a sign to the sergeant.

SERGEANT (to Burgoyne). Ready, sir.

BURGOYNE. Have you anything more to say, Mr. Dudgeon? It wants
two minutes of twelve still.

RICHARD (in the strong voice of a man who has conquered the
bitterness of death). Your watch is two minutes slow by the town
clock, which I can see from here, General. (The town clock
strikes the first stroke of twelve. Involuntarily the people
flinch at the sound, and a subdued groan breaks from them.) Amen!
my life for the world's future!