ubbub] Patriotism--there are two kinds--that of
our soldiers, and this of mine. You have neither!

CHIEF STUDENT. [Checking a dangerous rush] Hold on! Hold on! [To
MORE] Swear to utter no more blasphemy against your country: Swear
it!

CROWD. Ah! Ay! Ah!

MORE. My country is not yours. Mine is that great country which
shall never take toll from the weakness of others. [Above the
groaning] Ah! you can break my head and my windows; but don't think
that you can break my faith. You could never break or shake it, if
you were a million to one.

A girl with dark eyes and hair all wild, leaps out from the
crowd and shakes her fist at him.

GIRL. You're friends with them that killed my lad! [MORE smiles
down at her, and she swiftly plucks the knife from the belt of a Boy
Scout beside her] Smile, you--cur!

A violent rush and heave from behind flings MORE forward on to
the steel. He reels, staggers back, and falls down amongst the
crowd. A scream, a sway, a rush, a hubbub of cries. The CHIEF
STUDENT shouts above the riot: "Steady!" Another: "My God!
He's got it!"

CHIEF STUDENT. Give him air!

The crowd falls back, and two STUDENTS, bending over MORE, lift
his arms and head, but they fall like lead. Desperately they
test him for life.

CHIEF STUDENT. By the Lord, it's over!

Then begins a scared swaying out towards the window. Some one
turns out the lights, and in the darkness the crowd fast melts
away. The body of MORE lies in the gleam from a single Chinese
lantern. Muttering the words: "Poor devil! He kept his end up
anyway!" the CHIEF STUDENT picks from the floor a little
abandoned Union Jack and lays it on MORE's breast. Then he,
too, turns, and rushes out.

And the body of MORE lies in the streak of light; and flee
noises in the street continue to rise.

THE CURTAIN FALLS, BUT RISES AGAIN ALMOST AT ONCE.

AFTERMATH

A late Spring dawn is just breaking. Against trees in leaf and
blossom, with the houses of a London Square beyond, suffused by
the spreading glow, is seen a dark life-size statue on a granite
pedestal. In front is the broad, dust-dim pavement. The light
grows till the central words around the pedestal can be clearly
read:

ERECTED
To the Memory