For his summing-up was as masterful as it was simple. The jury, he reminded them, was the arbiter in this court. Lawyers could argue, the judge could direct them how to find; but they had the power to choose. And the duty. This wretched law of libel was as uncertain as it was bad. Almost anything you said could be twisted and turned into libel. Even a complaint against abuse, which was every man’s natural right.

By this means, a governor who did not wish to be criticized could use the law as a weapon, and place himself above the law. It was a legally sanctioned abuse of power. And what stood between this tyranny and the liberties of a free people? They, the jury. Nothing else.

“The loss of liberty, to a generous mind, is worse than death,” he proclaimed. The case was not about a printer in New York, it was about their right, and their duty, to protect free men against arbitrary power, as many other brave men had done before them.

Now, he told the jury, it was up to them. The choice was in their hands. And with that, he sat down.

The judge was not pleased. He told the jury that despite anything the Philadelphia lawyer said, they should find the printer guilty. The jury retired.

As the court broke out into a hum of conversation, and Zenger continued to sit upright in his box, Kate’s father explained to her.

“I did not realize myself what he was up to. He made the jury furious that the common-sense defense of Zenger—that the poor devil did no more than say the truth—was to be disallowed. And then he played the card he had intended to play all along. It’s called Jury Nullification. A jury has the right to decide a case, notwithstanding anything they have heard regarding a defendant’s guilt, or the state of the law. It is the last and only defense against bad laws. After a jury has refused to convict, the law does not change, but few prosecutors want to bring a similar action, for fear that future juries will do the same thing. That is the tactic old Hamilton has just deployed. And brilliantly.”

“Will it work?”

“We’re about to find out, I think.”

For the jury was already returning. They filed into place. The judge asked if they had a verdict. The foreman said that they had. He was told to give it.

“Not guilty, Your Honor,” he said firmly.

The judge cast his eyes to heaven. And the people in the courtroom erupted with glee.

Eliot Master looked so happy as they left the court that Kate put her arm through his—a familiarity she would not have attempted normally, but one which was accepted.