Shelder.  We want to keep you, More.  Come!  Give us your promise —­that’s a good man!

More.  I don’t make cheap promises.  You ask too much.

     [There is silence, and they all look at more.]

Shelder.  There are very excellent reasons for the Government’s policy.

More.  There are always excellent reasons for having your way with the weak.

Shelder.  My dear More, how can you get up any enthusiasm for those cattle-lifting ruffians?

More.  Better lift cattle than lift freedom.

Shelder.  Well, all we’ll ask is that you shouldn’t go about the country, saying so.

More.  But that is just what I must do.

     [Again they all look at more in consternation.]

Home.  Not down our way, you’ll pardon me.

Wace.  Really—­really, sir——­

Shelder.  The time of crusades is past, More.

More.  Is it?

Banning.  Ah! no, but we don’t want to part with you, Mr. More.  It’s a bitter thing, this, after three elections.  Look at the ’uman side of it!  To speak ill of your country when there’s been a disaster like this terrible business in the Pass.  There’s your own wife.  I see her brother’s regiment’s to start this very afternoon.  Come now—­how must she feel?

     More breaks away to the bay window.  The deputation exchange
     glances.

More. [Turning] To try to muzzle me like this—­is going too far.

Banning.  We just want to put you out of temptation.

More.  I’ve held my seat with you in all weathers for nine years.  You’ve all been bricks to me.  My heart’s in my work, Banning; I’m not eager to undergo political eclipse at forty.

Shelder.  Just so—­we don’t want to see you in that quandary.

Banning.  It’d be no friendliness to give you a wrong impression of the state of feeling.  Silence—­till the bitterness is overpast; there’s naught else for it, Mr. More, while you feel as you do.  That tongue of yours!  Come!  You owe us something.  You’re a big man; it’s the big view you ought to take.

More.  I am trying to.

Home.  And what precisely is your view—­you’ll pardon my asking?

More. [Turning on him] Mr. Home a great country such as ours—­is trustee for the highest sentiments of mankind.  Do these few outrages justify us in stealing the freedom of this little people?

Banning.  Steal—­their freedom!  That’s rather running before the hounds.

More.  Ah, Banning! now we come to it.  In your hearts you’re none of you for that—­neither by force nor fraud.  And yet you all know that we’ve gone in there to stay, as we’ve gone into other lands—­as all we big Powers go into other lands, when they’re little and weak.  The Prime Minister’s words the other night were these:  “If we are forced to spend this blood and money now, we must never again be forced.”  What does that mean but swallowing this country?