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20
THE BISHOP'S CANDLESTICKS.
Convict. Ah, thanks, thanks, Monseigneur. I—I (he sobs) Ah! I'm a fool, a child to cry, but somehow you have made me feel that—that it is just as if something had come into me—as if I were a man again and not a wild beast, (the door at back is open and the Convict is standing in it)
Bishop (putting his hand on his shoulder). Always remember, my son, that this poor body is the Temple of the Living God.
Convict (with great awe). The Temple of the Living God. I'll remember. (Exit l. c.)
(The Bishop closes the door and goes quietly to the Priedieu in the window r., he sinks on his knees, and bows his head in prayer.)
Slow Curtain.
Printed in Great Britain by Butler & Tanner, Frome and London.
