nts of God to children--
How canst thou do it?

_Dimsdell._ If thou be not Satan, why raise this cloud?
Why vanish from my sight? Yet I did touch him even now--
I'll kill him--Kill, kill, kill--now, now, now--

_Roger._ In trance again! Help! Help! Help!

_Dimsdell becomes rigid; with arm uplifted as if to strike a death
blow. His speech thickens, and he stands motionless. Roger supports
him._

ACT IV.

SCENE I.--_A room. DIMSDELL upon a couch in a cataleptic trance.
ROGER PRYNNE watching him. Two chairs; other furniture heavy and
immovable._

_Roger._ [_Feeling Dimsdell's pulse_] There's been no change.
A very long trance.
At times he mumbles; at other times, as now,
He lies like death. If ev'ry murderer
Were stricken with the image of the thing
Which he would deal, 'twould be a blessing! Yet
When consciousness returns, with it will come
The murderous disposition; for in these cases
The mind, although it wanders while the trance
Is on, always comes back upon its path
Where first it left It. Therefore, 'twere wise in me
To be on guard. Well, so I am; but what--
What fear should drive me hence, or make me leave
The study of his case? He hath no arms
But such as both of us were born with;
And despite my age I am his equal that way.
Ah! a chair swung by a furious man
Might make an omelet of my brain;
Therefore, one chair will do--and that for me. [_Removes chair._

_Enter GOVERNOR BELLINGHAM in robes of office._

_Governor._ Good morning, Doctor.

_Roger._ Good morning, Governor. I wish you, sir,
As happy and as prosperous a term
In office, as that just closing.

_Governor._ I thank you, sir.
Has Dimsdell recovered from his trance?

_Roger._ Not yet. There he lies.

_Governor._ Wonderful!
Can you account for his condition, Doctor?

_Roger._ There's no accounting for it, Governor.
This is the second trance I've seen him in;
How many more he's had, God only knows.

_Governor._ 'Tis most unfortunate that we must lack
His eloquence to-day. The people, who
Always love high-sounding words more than
Wise thoughts, prefer the music of his voice
To good old Wilson's drone. Why isn't he in bed?

_Roger._ Oh! there are many reasons; 'twould take too long
To tell you now; but at another time
I'll ask your patience for a tale more strange
Than ever made your flesh to creep.