Richard (with some scorn).  Indeed!  But if I don’t go through with it, where will the heroism be?  I shall simply have tricked them; and they’ll hang me for that like a dog.  Serve me right too!

Judith (wildly).  Oh, I believe you want to die.

Richard (obstinately).  No I don’t.

Judith.  Then why not try to save yourself?  I implore you—­listen.  You said just now that you saved him for my sake—­yes (clutching him as he recoils with a gesture of denial) a little for my sake.  Well, save yourself for my sake.  And I will go with you to the end of the world.

Richard (taking her by the wrists and holding her a little way from him, looking steadily at her).  Judith.

Judith (breathless—­delighted at the name).  Yes.

Richard.  If I said—­to please you—­that I did what I did ever so little for your sake, I lied as men always lie to women.  You know how much I have lived with worthless men—­aye, and worthless women too.  Well, they could all rise to some sort of goodness and kindness when they were in love. (The word love comes from him with true Puritan scorn.) That has taught me to set very little store by the goodness that only comes out red hot.  What I did last night, I did in cold blood, caring not half so much for your husband, or (ruthlessly) for you (she droops, stricken) as I do for myself.  I had no motive and no interest:  all I can tell you is that when it came to the point whether I would take my neck out of the noose and put another man’s into it, I could not do it.  I don’t know why not:  I see myself as a fool for my pains; but I could not and I cannot.  I have been brought up standing by the law of my own nature; and I may not go against it, gallows or no gallows. (She has slowly raised her head and is now looking full at him.) I should have done the same for any other man in the town, or any other man’s wife. (Releasing her.) Do you understand that?

Judith.  Yes:  you mean that you do not love me.

Richard (revolted—­with fierce contempt).  Is that all it means to you?

Judith.  What more—­what worse—­can it mean to me?

(The sergeant knocks.  The blow on the door jars on her heart.) Oh, one moment more. (She throws herself on her knees.) I pray to you—­

Richard.  Hush! (Calling) Come in. (The sergeant unlocks the door and opens it.  The guard is with him.)

Sergeant (coming in).  Time’s up, sir.

Richard.  Quite ready, Sergeant.  Now, my dear. (He attempts to raise her.)

Judith (clinging to him).  Only one thing more—­I entreat, I implore you.  Let me be present in the court.  I have seen Major Swindon:  he said I should be allowed if you asked it.  You will ask it.  It is my last request:  I shall never ask you anything again. (She clasps his knee.) I beg and pray it of you.