CHAPTER III

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A CRUCIAL PERIOD IN ENGLISH HISTORY

"Whom the gods destroy they first make mad." Of no one in English history is this truer than of King Charles I. Just at a time when the nation was feeling the strength of its wings both in Church and State, when individuals were claiming the right to freedom of conscience in their form of worship and the people were growing more insistent for the recognition of their ancient rights and liberties, secured to them, in the first place, by the Magna Charta,—just at this time looms up the obstruction of a King so imbued with the defunct ideal of the divine right of Kings that he is blind to the tendencies of the age. What wonder, then, if the swirling waters of discontent should rise higher and higher until he became engulfed in their fury.

The history of the reign of Charles I. is one full of involved details, yet the broader aspects of it, the great events which chiseled into shape the future of England stand out80 in bold relief in front of a background of interminable bickerings. There was constant quarreling between the factions within the English church, and between the Protestants and the Catholics, complicated by the discontent of the people and at times the nobles because of the autocratic, vacillating policy of the King.

Among these epoch-bringing events were the emergence of the Puritans from the chaos of internecine church squabbles, the determined raising of the voice of the people in the Long Parliament, where King and people finally came to an open clash in the impeachment of the King's most devoted minister, Wentworth, Earl Strafford, by Pym, the great leader in the House of Commons, ending in Strafford's execution; the Grand Remonstrance, which sounded in no uncertain tones the tocsin of the coming revolution; and finally the King's impeachment of Pym, Hampden, Holles, Hazelrigg and Strode, one of the many ill-advised moves of this Monarch which at once precipitated the Revolution.

These cataclysms at home were further intensified by the Scottish Invasion and the Irish Rebellion.

Charles I in Scene of Impeachment

It is not surprising that Browning should81 have been attracted to this period of English history, when he contemplated the writing of a play on an English subject. His liberty-loving mind would naturally find congenial occupation in depicting this great English struggle for liberty. Yet the hero of the play is not Pym, the leader of the people, but Strafford, the supporter of the King. The dramatic reasons are sufficient to account for this. Strafford's career was picturesque and tragic and his personality so striking that more than one interpretation of his remarkable life is possible.

The interpretation will differ according to whether one is partisan in hatred or admiration of his character and policy, or possesses the larger quality of sympathetic appreciation of the man and the problems with which he had to deal. Any one coming to judge him in this latter spirit would undoubtedly perceive all the fine points in Strafford's nature and would balance these against his theories of government to the better understanding of this extraordinary man.

It is almost needless to say that Browning's perception of Strafford's character was penetrating and sympathetic. Strafford's devotion to his King had in it not only the element of loyalty to the liege, but an element82 of personal love which would make an especial appeal to Browning. He, in consequence, seizes upon this trait as the key-note of his portrayal of Strafford.

The play is, on the whole, accurate in its historical details, though the poet's imagination has added many a flying buttress to the structure.

Forster's lives of the English Statesmen in Lardner's CyclopÆdia furnished plenty of material, and he was besides familiar with some if not all of Forster's materials for the lives. One of the interesting surprises in connection with Browning's literary career was the fact divulged some years ago that he had actually helped Forster in the preparation of the Life of Strafford. Indeed it is thought that he wrote it almost entirely from the notes of Forster. Dr. Furnivall first called attention to this, and later the life of Strafford was reprinted as "Robert Browning's Prose Life of Strafford."[2] In his Forewords to this volume, Dr. Furnivall, who, among many other claims to distinction, was the president of the "London Browning Society," writes, "Three times during his life did Browning speak to me about his prose 'Life of Strafford.' The first time he said83 only—in the course of chat—that very few people had any idea of how much he had helped John Forster in it. The second time he told me at length that one day he went to see Forster and found him very ill, and anxious about the 'Life of Strafford,' which he had promised to write at once, to complete a volume of 'Lives of Eminent British Statesmen' for Lardner's 'Cabinet CyclopÆdia.' Forster had finished the 'Life of Eliot'—the first in the volume—and had just begun that of Strafford, for which he had made full collections and extracts; but illness had come on, he couldn't work, the book ought to be completed forthwith, as it was due in the serial issue of volumes; what was he to do? 'Oh,' said Browning, 'don't trouble about it. I'll take your papers and do it for you.' Forster thanked his young friend heartily, Browning put the Strafford papers under his arm, walked off, worked hard, finished the Life, and it came out to time in 1836, to Forster's great relief, and passed under his name." Professor Gardiner, the historian, was of the opinion from internal evidence that the Life was more Browning's than Forster's. He said to Furnivall, "It is not a historian's conception of the character but a poet's. I am certain that it's not Forster's. Yes, it84 makes mistakes in facts and dates, but, it has got the man—in the main." In this opinion Furnivall concurs. Of the last paragraph in the history he exclaims, "I could swear it was Browning's":—The paragraph in question sums up the character of Strafford and is interesting in this connection, as giving hints, though not the complete picture of the Strafford of the Drama.

"A great lesson is written in the life of this truly extraordinary person. In the career of Strafford is to be sought the justification of the world's 'appeal from tyranny to God.' In him Despotism had at length obtained an instrument with mind to comprehend, and resolution to act upon, her principles in their length and breadth,—and enough of her purposes were effected by him, to enable mankind to 'see as from a tower the end of all.' I cannot discern one false step in Strafford's public conduct, one glimpse of a recognition of an alien principle, one instance of a dereliction of the law of his being, which can come in to dispute the decisive result of the experiment, or explain away its failure. The least vivid fancy will have no difficulty in taking up the interrupted design, and by wholly enfeebling, or materially emboldening, the insignificant nature of Charles; and by accord85ing some half-dozen years of immunity to the 'fretted tenement' of Strafford's 'fiery soul',—contemplate then, for itself, the perfect realization of the scheme of 'making the prince the most absolute lord in Christendom.' That done,—let it pursue the same course with respect to Eliot's noble imaginings, or to young Vane's dreamy aspirings, and apply in like manner a fit machinery to the working out the projects which made the dungeon of the one a holy place, and sustained the other in his self-imposed exile.—The result is great and decisive! It establishes, in renewed force, those principles of political conduct which have endured, and must continue to endure, 'like truth from age to age.'" The history, on the whole, lacks the grasp in the portrayal of Wentworth to be found in the drama. C.H. Firth, commenting upon this says truly, "One might almost say that in the first, Strafford was represented as he appeared to his opponents, and in the second as he appeared to himself; or that, having painted Strafford as he was, Browning painted him again as he wished to be. In the biography Strafford is exhibited as a man of rare gifts and noble qualities; yet in his political capacity, merely the conscious, the devoted tool of a tyrant. In the tragedy, on the other86 hand, Strafford is the champion of the King's will against the people's, but yet looks forward to the ultimate reconciliation of Charles and his subjects, and strives for it after his own fashion. He loves the master he serves, and dies for him, but when the end comes he can proudly answer his accusers, 'I have loved England too.'"

The play opens at the important moment of Wentworth's return to London from Ireland, where for some time he had been governor. The occasion of his return, according to Gardiner, was a personal quarrel with the Chancellor Loftus, of Ireland. Both men were allowed to come to England to plead their cause, which resulted in the victory of Wentworth. In the play Pym says, "Ay, the Court gives out His own concerns have brought him back: I know 'tis the King calls him." The authority for this remark is found in the Forster-Browning Life. "In the danger threatened by the Scots' Covenant, Wentworth was Charles's only hope; the King sent for him, saying he desired his personal counsel and attendance. He wrote: 'The Scots' Covenant begins to spread too far, yet, for all this, I will not have you take notice that I have sent for you, but pretend some other occasion of business.'" Certain it is that from this time Wentworth87 became the most trusted counsellor of Charles, that is, as far as Charles was capable of trusting any one. The condition of affairs to which Wentworth returned is brought out in the play in a thoroughly alive and human manner. We are introduced to the principal actors in the struggle for their rights and privileges against the government of Charles meeting in a house near Whitehall. Among the "great-hearted" men are Hampden, Hollis, the younger Vane, Rudyard, Fiennes—all leaders in the "Faction,"—Presbyterians, Loudon and other members of the Scots' commissioners. A bit of history has been drawn upon for this opening scene, for according to the Forster-Browning Life, "There is no doubt that a close correspondence with the Scotch commissioners, headed by Lords Loudon and Dumferling, was entered into under the management of Pym and Hampden. Whenever necessity obliged the meetings to be held in London, they took place at Pym's house in Gray's Inn Lane." In the talk between these men the political situation in England at the time from the point of view of the liberal party is brought vividly before the reader.

There has been no Parliament in England for ten years, hence the people have had no88 say in the direction of the government. The growing dissatisfaction of the people at being thus deprived of their rights focussed itself upon the question of "ship-money." The taxes levied by the King for the maintainance of a fleet were loudly objected to upon all sides. That a fleet was a necessary means of protection in those threatening times is not to be doubted, but the objections of the people were grounded upon the fact that the King levied these taxes upon his own authority. "Ship-money, it was loudly declared," says Gardiner, "was undeniably a tax, and the ancient customs of the realm, recently embodied in the Petition of Right, had announced with no doubtful voice that no tax could be levied without consent of Parliament. Even this objection was not the full measure of the evil. If Charles could take this money without the consent of Parliament, he need not, unless some unforeseen emergency arose, ever summon a Parliament again. The true question at issue was whether Parliament formed an integral part of the Constitution or not." Other taxes were objected to on the same grounds, and the more determined the King was not to summon a Parliament, the greater became the political ferment.

Thomas Wentworth, Earl of Strafford

At the same time the religious ferment was89 centering itself upon hatred of Laud, the Archbishop of Canterbury. His policy was to silence opposition to the methods of worship then followed by the Church of England, by the terrors of the Star Chamber. The Puritans were smarting under the sentence which had been passed upon the three pamphleteers, William Prynne, Henry Burton, and John Bastwick, who had expressed their opinions of the practises of the church with great outspokenness. Prynne called upon pious King Charles "to do justice on the whole Episcopal order by which he had been robbed of the love of God and of his people, and which aimed at plucking the crown from his head, that they might set it on their own ambitious pates." Burton hinted that "the sooner the office of the Bishops was abolished the better it would be for the nation." Bastwick, who had been brought up in the straitest principles of Puritanism, had ended his pamphlet "Flagellum Pontificis," with this outburst, "Take notice, so far am I from flying or fearing, as I resolve to make war against the Beast, and every hint of Antichrist, all the days of my life. If I die in that battle, so much the sooner I shall be sent in a chariot of triumph to heaven; and when I come there, I will, with those that are under the altar cry,90 'How long, Lord, holy and true, dost Thou not judge and avenge our blood upon them that dwell upon the earth?'"

These men were called before the Star Chamber upon a charge of libel. The sentence was a foregone conclusion, and was so outrageous that its result could only be the strengthening of opposition. The "muckworm" Cottington, as Browning calls him, suggested the sentence which was carried out. The men were condemned to lose their ears, to pay a fine of £5000 each, and to be imprisoned for the remainder of their lives in the castles of Carnarvon, Launceston, and Lancaster. Finch, not satisfied with this, added the savage wish that Prynne should be branded on the cheek with the letters S.L., to stand for "seditious libeller," and this was also done.

The account of the execution of this sentence is almost too horrible to read. Some one who recorded the scene wrote, "The humours of the people were various; some wept, some laughed, and some were very reserved." Prynne, whose sufferings had been greatest for he had been burned as well as having his ears taken off, was yet able to indulge in a grim piece of humor touching the letters S.L. branded on his cheeks. He91 called them "Stigmata Laudis," the "Scars of Laud," on his way back to prison. Popular demonstrations in favor of the prisoners were made all along the road when they were taken to their respective prisons, where they were allowed neither pen, ink nor books. Fearful lest they might somehow still disseminate their heretical doctrines to the outer world, the council removed them to still more distant prisons, in the Scilly Isles, in Guernsey and in Jersey. Retaliation against this treatment found open expression. "A copy of the Star Chamber decree was nailed to a board. Its corners were cut off as the ears of Laud's victims had been cut off at Westminster. A broad ink mark was drawn round Laud's name. An inscription declared that 'The man that puts the saints of God into a pillory of wood stands here in a pillory of ink!'"

Things were brought to a crisis in Scotland also, through hatred of Laud and the new prayer-book. The King, upon his visit to Scotland, had been shocked at the slovenly appearance and the slovenly ritual of the Scottish Church, which reflected strongly survivals of the Presbyterianism of an earlier time. The King wrote to the Scottish Bishops soon after his return to England: "We, tendering the good and peace of that Church by92 having good and decent order and discipline observed therein, whereby religion and God's worship may increase, and considering that there is nothing more defective in that Church than the want of a Book of Common Prayer and uniform service to be kept in all the churches thereof, and the want of canons for the uniformity of the same, we are hereby pleased to authorise you as the representative body of that Church, and do herewith will and require you to condescend upon a form of Church service to be used therein, and to set down the canons for the uniformity of the discipline thereof." Laud, who as Archbishop of Canterbury had no jurisdiction over Scottish Bishops, put his finger into the pie as secretary of the King. As Gardiner says, "He conveyed instructions to the Bishops, remonstrated with proceedings which shocked his sense of order, and held out prospects of advancement to the zealous. Scotchmen naturally took offense. They did not trouble themselves to distinguish between the secretary and the archbishop. They simply said that the Pope of Canterbury was as bad as the Pope of Rome."

The upshot of it all was that in May, 1637, the "new Prayer-book" was sent to Scotland, and every minister was ordered to buy two93 copies on pain of outlawry. Riots followed. It was finally decided that it must be settled once for all whether a King had any right to change the forms of worship without the sanction of a legislative assembly. Then came the Scottish Covenant which declared the intention of the signers to uphold religious liberty. The account of the signing of this covenant is one of the most impressive episodes in all history. The Covenant was carried on the 28th of February, 1638, to the Grey Friars' Church to which all the gentlemen present in Edinburgh had been summoned. The scene has been most sympathetically described by Gardiner.

"At four o'clock in the grey winter evening, the noblemen, the Earl of Sutherland leading the way began to sign. Then came the gentlemen, one after the other until nearly eight. The next day the ministers were called on to testify their approval, and nearly three hundred signatures were obtained before night. The Commissioners of the boroughs signed at the same time.

"On the third day the people of Edinburgh were called on to attest their devotion to the cause which was represented by the Covenant. Tradition long loved to tell how the honored parchment, carried back to the Grey Friars,94 was laid out on a tombstone in the churchyard, whilst weeping multitudes pressed round in numbers too great to be contained in any building. There are moments when the stern Scottish nature breaks out into an enthusiasm less passionate, but more enduring, than the frenzy of a Southern race. As each man and woman stepped forward in turn, with the right hand raised to heaven before the pen was grasped, every one there present knew that there would be no flinching amongst that band of brothers till their religion was safe from intrusive violence.

"Modern narrators may well turn their attention to the picturesqueness of the scene, to the dark rocks of the Castle crag over against the churchyard, and to the earnest faces around. The men of the seventeenth century had no thought to spare for the earth beneath or for the sky above. What they saw was their country's faith trodden under foot, what they felt was the joy of those who had been long led astray, and had now returned to the Shepherd and Bishop of their souls."

Such were the conditions that brought on the Scotch war, neither Charles nor Wentworth being wise enough to make concessions to the Covenanters.

95 The grievances against the King's Minister Wentworth are in this opening scene shown as being aggravated by the fact that the men of the "Faction" regard him as a deserter from their cause, Pym, himself being one of the number who is loth to think Wentworth stands for the King's policy.

The historical ground for the assumption lies in the fact that Wentworth was one of the leaders of the opposition in the Parliament of 1628.

The reason for this was largely personal, because of Buckingham's treatment of him. Wentworth had refused to take part in the collection of the forced loan of 1626, and was dismissed from his official posts in consequence. When he further refused to subscribe to that loan himself he was imprisoned in the Marshalsea and at Depford. Regarding himself as personally attacked by Buckingham, he joined the opposition. Yet, as Firth points out, "fiercely as he attacked the King's ministers, he was careful to exonerate the King." He concludes his list of grievances by saying, "This hath not been done by the King, but by projectors." Again, "Whether we shall look upon the King or his people, it did never more behove this great physician the parliament, to effect a true96 consent amongst the parties than now. Both are injured, both to be cured. By one and the same thing hath the King and people been hurt. I speak truly both for the interest of the King and the people."

His intention was to find some means of cooperation which would leave the people their liberty and yet give the crown its prerogative, "Let us make what laws we can, there must—nay, there will be a trust left in the crown."

It will be seen by any unbiased critic that Wentworth was only half for the people even at this time. On the other hand, it is not astonishing that men, heart and soul for the people, should consider Wentworth's subsequent complete devotion to the cause of the King sufficient to brand him as an apostate. The fact that he received so many official dignities from the King also leant color to the supposition that personal ambition was a leading motive with him. With true dramatic instinct Browning has centered this feeling and made the most of it in the attitude of Pym's party, while he offsets it later in the play by showing us the reality of the man Strafford.

There is no very authentic source for the idea also brought out in this first scene that97 Strafford and Pym had been warm personal friends. The story is told by Dr. James Welwood, one of the physicians of William III., who, in the year 1700, published a volume entitled "Memoirs, of the most material transactions in England for the last hundred years preceding the Revolution of 1688." Without mentioning any source he tells the following story; "There had been a long and intimate friendship between Mr. Pym and him [Wentworth], and they had gone hand in hand in everything in the House of Commons. But when Sir Thomas Wentworth was upon making his peace with the Court, he sent to Pym to meet him alone at Greenwich; where he began in a set speech to sound Mr. Pym about the dangers they were like to run by the courses they were in; and what advantages they might have if they would but listen to some offers which would probably be made them from the Court. Pym understanding his speech stopped him short with this expression: 'You need not use all this art to tell me you have a mind to leave us; but remember what I tell you, you are going to be undone. But remember, that though you leave us now I will never leave you while your head is upon your shoulders.'"

98 Though only a tradition this was entirely too useful a suggestion not to be used. The intensity of the situation between the leaders on opposite sides is enhanced tenfold by bringing into the field a personal sentiment.

The attitude of Pym's followers is reflected again in their opinion of Wentworth's Irish rule. Although Wentworth's policy seemed to be successful in Ireland, the very fact of its success would condemn it in the eyes of the popular party; besides later developments revealed its weaknesses. How it appeared to the eyes of a non-fanatical observer at this time may be gathered from the following letter of Sir Thomas Roe to the Queen of Bohemia, written in 1634.

"The Lord Deputy of Ireland doth great wonders, and governs like a King, and hath taught that Kingdom to show us an example of envy, by having parliaments, and knowing wisely how to use them; for they have given the King six subsidies, which will arise to £240,000, and they are like to have the liberty we contended for, and grace from his Majesty worth their gift double; and which is worth much more, the honor of good intelligence and love between the King and people, which I would to God our great wits had had eyes99 to see. This is a great service, and to give your Majesty a character of the man,—he is severe abroad and in business, and sweet in private conversation; retired in his friendships, but very firm; a terrible judge and a strong enemy; a servant violently zealous in his Master's ends, and not negligent of his own; one that will have what he will, and though of great reason, he can make his will greater when it may serve him; affecting glory by a seeming contempt; one that cannot stay long in the middle region of fortune, being entreprenant; but will either be the greatest man in England, or much less than he is; lastly, one that may (and his nature lies fit for it, for he is ambitious to do what others will not), do your Majesty very great service, if you can make him."

In order to be in sympathy with the play throughout and especially with the first scene all this historical background must be kept in mind, for the talk gives no direct information, it merely in an absolutely dramatic fashion reveals the feelings and opinions of the men upon the situation, just as friends at a dinner party might discuss one of our own less strenuous political situations—all present being perfectly familiar with the issues at stake.

100

STRAFFORD
ACT I

Scene I.A House near Whitehall.

Hampden, Hollis, the younger Vane, Rudyard, Fiennes and many of the Presbyterian Party: Loudon and other Scots' Commissioners.

Vane. I say, if he be here—

Rudyard.(And he is here!)—

Hollis. For England's sake let every man be still
Nor speak of him, so much as say his name,
Till Pym rejoin us! Rudyard! Henry Vane!
One rash conclusion may decide our course
And with it England's fate—think—England's fate!
Hampden, for England's sake they should be still!

Vane. You say so, Hollis? Well, I must be still.
It is indeed too bitter that one man,
Any one man's mere presence, should suspend
England's combined endeavor: little need
To name him!

Rudyard.For you are his brother, Hollis!

Hampden. Shame on you, Rudyard! time to tell him that,
When he forgets the Mother of us all.

Rudyard. Do I forget her?

Hampden.You talk idle hate
Against her foe: is that so strange a thing?
Is hating Wentworth all the help she needs?

A Puritan. The Philistine strode, cursing as he went:
But David—five smooth pebbles from the brook
Within his scrip....

Rudyard.Be you as still as David!

Fiennes. Here's Rudyard not ashamed to wag a tongue
101Stiff with ten years' disuse of Parliaments;
Why, when the last sat, Wentworth sat with us!

Rudyard. Let's hope for news of them now he returns—
He that was safe in Ireland, as we thought!
—But I'll abide Pym's coming.

Vane.Now, by Heaven,
They may be cool who can, silent who will—
Some have a gift that way! Wentworth is here,
Here, and the King's safe closeted with him
Ere this. And when I think on all that's past
Since that man left us, how his single arm
Rolled the advancing good of England back
And set the woeful past up in its place,
Exalting Dagon where the Ark should be,—
How that man has made firm the fickle King
(Hampden, I will speak out!)—in aught he feared
To venture on before; taught tyranny
Her dismal trade, the use of all her tools,
To ply the scourge yet screw the gag so close
That strangled agony bleeds mute to death;
How he turns Ireland to a private stage
For training infant villanies, new ways
Of wringing treasure out of tears and blood,
Unheard oppressions nourished in the dark
To try how much man's nature can endure
—If he dies under it, what harm? if not,
Why, one more trick is added to the rest
Worth a king's knowing, and what Ireland bears
England may learn to bear:—how all this while
That man has set himself to one dear task,
The bringing Charles to relish more and more
Power, power without law, power and blood too
—Can I be still?

Hampden.For that you should be still.

102 Vane. Oh Hampden, then and now! The year he left us,
The People in full Parliament could wrest
The Bill of Rights from the reluctant King;
And now, he'll find in an obscure small room
A stealthy gathering of great-hearted men
That take up England's cause: England is here!

Hampden. And who despairs of England?

Rudyard.That do I,
If Wentworth comes to rule her. I am sick
To think her wretched masters, Hamilton,
The muckworm Cottington, the maniac Laud,
May yet be longed-for back again. I say,
I do despair.

Vane.And, Rudyard, I'll say this—
Which all true men say after me, not loud
But solemnly and as you'd say a prayer!
This King, who treads our England underfoot,
Has just so much ... it may be fear or craft,
As bids him pause at each fresh outrage; friends,
He needs some sterner hand to grasp his own,
Some voice to ask, "Why shrink? Am I not by?"
Now, one whom England loved for serving her,
Found in his heart to say, "I know where best
The iron heel shall bruise her, for she leans
Upon me when you trample." Witness, you!
So Wentworth heartened Charles, so England fell.
But inasmuch as life is hard to take
From England....

Many Voices.Go on, Vane! 'Tis well said, Vane!

Vane. —Who has not so forgotten Runnymead!—

Voices. 'Tis well and bravely spoken, Vane! Go on!

Vane. —There are some little signs of late she knows
The ground no place for her. She glances round,
Wentworth has dropped the hand, is gone his way
103On other service: what if she arise?
No! the King beckons, and beside him stands
The same bad man once more, with the same smile
And the same gesture. Now shall England crouch,
Or catch at us and rise?

Voices.The Renegade!
Haman! Ahithophel!

Hampden.Gentlemen of the North,
It was not thus the night your claims were urged,
And we pronounced the League and Covenant,
The cause of Scotland, England's cause as well:
Vane there, sat motionless the whole night through.

Vane. Hampden!

Fiennes.Stay, Vane!

Loudon.Be just and patient, Vane!

Vane. Mind how you counsel patience, Loudon! you
Have still a Parliament, and this your League
To back it; you are free in Scotland still:
While we are brothers, hope's for England yet.
But know you wherefore Wentworth comes? to quench
This last of hopes? that he brings war with him?
Know you the man's self? what he dares?

Loudon.We know,
All know—'tis nothing new.

Vane.And what's new, then,
In calling for his life? Why, Pym himself—
You must have heard—ere Wentworth dropped our cause
He would see Pym first; there were many more
Strong on the people's side and friends of his,
Eliot that's dead, Rudyard and Hampden here,
But for these Wentworth cared not; only, Pym
He would see—Pym and he were sworn, 'tis said,
To live and die together; so, they met
At Greenwich. Wentworth, you are sure, was long,
104Specious enough, the devil's argument
Lost nothing on his lips; he'd have Pym own
A patriot could not play a purer part
Than follow in his track; they two combined
Might put down England. Well, Pym heard him out;
One glance—you know Pym's eye—one word was all:
"You leave us, Wentworth! while your head is on,
I'll not leave you."

Hampden.Has he left Wentworth, then?
Has England lost him? Will you let him speak,
Or put your crude surmises in his mouth?
Away with this! Will you have Pym or Vane?

Voices. Wait Pym's arrival! Pym shall speak.

Hampden.Meanwhile
Let Loudon read the Parliament's report
From Edinburgh: our last hope, as Vane says,
Is in the stand it makes. Loudon!

Vane.No, no!
Silent I can be: not indifferent!

Hampden. Then each keep silence, praying God to spare
His anger, cast not England quite away
In this her visitation!

A Puritan.Seven years long
The Midianite drove Israel into dens
And caves. Till God sent forth a mighty man,

Pym enters

Even Gideon!

Pym.Wentworth's come: nor sickness, care,
The ravaged body nor the ruined soul,
More than the winds and waves that beat his ship,
Could keep him from the King. He has not reached
Whitehall: they've hurried up a Council there
To lose no time and find him work enough.
Where's Loudon? your Scots' Parliament....

Loudon.Holds firm:
105 We were about to read reports.

Pym.The King
Has just dissolved your Parliament.

Loudon and other Scots.Great God!
An oath-breaker! Stand by us, England, then!

Pym. The King's too sanguine; doubtless Wentworth's here;
But still some little form might be kept up.

Hampden. Now speak, Vane! Rudyard, you had much to say!

Hollis. The rumor's false, then....

Pym.Ay, the Court gives out
His own concerns have brought him back: I know
'Tis the King calls him. Wentworth supersedes
The tribe of Cottingtons and Hamiltons
Whose part is played; there's talk enough, by this,—
Merciful talk, the King thinks: time is now
To turn the record's last and bloody leaf
Which, chronicling a nation's great despair,
Tells they were long rebellious, and their lord
Indulgent, till, all kind expedients tried,
He drew the sword on them and reigned in peace.
Laud's laying his religion on the Scots
Was the last gentle entry: the new page
Shall run, the King thinks, "Wentworth thrust it down
At the sword's point."

A Puritan.I'll do your bidding, Pym,
England's and God's—one blow!

Pym.A goodly thing—
We all say, friends, it is a goodly thing
To right that England. Heaven grows dark above:
Let's snatch one moment ere the thunder fall,
To say how well the English spirit comes out
106Beneath it! All have done their best, indeed,
From lion Eliot, that grand Englishman,
To the least here: and who, the least one here,
When she is saved (for her redemption dawns
Dimly, most dimly, but it dawns—it dawns)
Who'd give at any price his hope away
Of being named along with the Great Men?
We would not—no, we would not give that up!

Hampden. And one name shall be dearer than all names.
When children, yet unborn, are taught that name
After their fathers',—taught what matchless man....

Pym. ... Saved England? What if Wentworth's should be still
That name?

Rudyard and others. We have just said it, Pym! His death
Saves her! We said it—there's no way beside!
I'll do God's bidding, Pym! They struck down Joab
And purged the land.

Vane.No villanous striking-down!

Rudyard. No, a calm vengeance: let the whole land rise
And shout for it. No Feltons!

Pym.Rudyard, no!
England rejects all Feltons; most of all
Since Wentworth ... Hampden, say the trust again
Of England in her servants—but I'll think
You know me, all of you. Then, I believe,
Spite of the past, Wentworth rejoins you, friends!

Vane and others. Wentworth? Apostate! Judas! Double-dyed
A traitor! Is it Pym, indeed....

Pym.... Who says
Vane never knew that Wentworth, loved that man,
107Was used to stroll with him, arm locked in arm,
Along the streets to see the people pass,
And read in every island-countenance
Fresh argument for God against the King,—
Never sat down, say, in the very house
Where Eliot's brow grew broad with noble thoughts,
(You've joined us, Hampden—Hollis, you as well,)
And then left talking over Gracchus' death....

Vane. To frame, we know it well, the choicest clause
In the Petition of Right: he framed such clause
One month before he took at the King's hand
His Northern Presidency, which that Bill
Denounced.

Pym.Too true! Never more, never more
Walked we together! Most alone I went.
I have had friends—all here are fast my friends—
But I shall never quite forget that friend.
And yet it could not but be real in him!
You, Vane,—you, Rudyard, have no right to trust
To Wentworth: but can no one hope with me?
Hampden, will Wentworth dare shed English blood
Like water?

Hampden.Ireland is Aceldama.

Pym. Will he turn Scotland to a hunting-ground
To please the King, now that he knows the King?
The People or the King? and that King, Charles!

Hampden. Pym, all here know you: you'll not set your heart
On any baseless dream. But say one deed
Of Wentworth's since he left us....

[Shouting without.

Vane.There! he comes,
And they shout for him! Wentworth's at Whitehall,
The King embracing him, now, as we speak,
108And he, to be his match in courtesies,
Taking the whole war's risk upon himself,
Now, while you tell us here how changed he is!
Hear you?

Pym.And yet if 'tis a dream, no more,
That Wentworth chose their side, and brought the King
To love it as though Laud had loved it first,
And the Queen after;—that he led their cause
Calm to success, and kept it spotless through,
So that our very eyes could look upon
The travail of our souls, and close content
That violence, which something mars even right
Which sanctions it, had taken off no grace
From its serene regard. Only a dream!

Hampden. We meet here to accomplish certain good
By obvious means, and keep tradition up
Of free assemblages, else obsolete,
In this poor chamber: nor without effect
Has friend met friend to counsel and confirm,
As, listening to the beats of England's heart,
We spoke its wants to Scotland's prompt reply
By these her delegates. Remains alone
That word grow deed, as with God's help it shall—
But with the devil's hindrance, who doubts too?
Looked we or no that tyranny should turn
Her engines of oppression to their use?
Whereof, suppose the worst be Wentworth here—
Shall we break off the tactics which succeed
In drawing out our formidablest foe,
Let bickering and disunion take their place?
Or count his presence as our conquest's proof,
And keep the old arms at their steady play?
Proceed to England's work! Fiennes, read the list!

Fiennes. Ship-money is refused or fiercely paid
109In every county, save the northern parts
Where Wentworth's influence....

[Shouting.

Vane.I, in England's name,
Declare her work, this way, at end! Till now,
Up to this moment, peaceful strife was best.
We English had free leave to think; till now,
We had a shadow of a Parliament
In Scotland. But all's changed: they change the first,
They try brute-force for law, they, first of all....

Voices. Good! Talk enough! The old true hearts with Vane!

Vane. Till we crush Wentworth for her, there's no act
Serves England!

Voices.Vane for England!

Pym.Pym should be
Something to England. I seek Wentworth, friends.

In the second scene of the first act, the man upon whom the popular party has been heaping opprobrium appears to speak for himself. Again the historical background must be known in order that the whole drift of the scene may be understood. Wentworth is talking with Lady Carlisle, a woman celebrated for her beauty and her wit, and fond of having friendships with great men. Various opinions of this beautiful woman have been expressed by those who knew her. "Her beauty," writes one, "brought her adorers of all ranks, courtiers, and poets, and statesmen; but she remained untouched by their worship." Sir Toby Mathews who pre110fixed to a collection of letters published in 1660 "A character of the most excellent Lady, Lucy, Countess of Carlisle," writes that she will "freely discourse of love, and hear both the fancies and powers of it; but if you will needs bring it within knowledge, and boldly direct it to herself, she is likely to divert the discourse, or, at least, seem not to understand it. By which you may know her humour, and her justice; for since she cannot love in earnest she would have nothing from love." According to him she filled her mind "with gallant fancies, and high and elevated thoughts," and "her wit being most eminent among the rest of her great abilities," even the conversation of those most famed for it was affected. Quite another view of her is given in a letter of Voiture's written to Mr. Gordon on leaving England in 1623.

"In one human being you let me see more treasures than there are there [the Tower], and even more lions and leopards. It will not be difficult for you to guess after this that I speak of the Countess of Carlisle. For there is nobody else of whom all this good and evil can be said. No matter how dangerous it is to let the memory dwell upon her, I have not, so far, been able to keep mine from it, and, quite honestly, I would not give the picture of111 her that lingers in my mind, for all the loveliest things I have seen in my life. I must confess that she is an enchanting personality, and there would not be a woman under heaven so worthy of affection, if she only knew what it was, and if she had as sensitive a nature as she has a reasonable mind. But with the temperament we know she possesses, there is nothing to be said except that she is the most lovable of all things not good, and the most delightful poison that nature ever concocted." Browning himself says he first sketched her character from Mathews, but finding that rather artificial, he used Voiture and Waller, who referred to her as the "bright Carlisle of the Court of Heaven." It should be remembered that she had become a widow and was considerably older at the time of her friendship with Wentworth than when Voiture wrote of her, and was probably better balanced, and truly worthy of Wentworth's own appreciation of her when he wrote, "A nobler nor a more intelligent friendship did I never meet with in my life." A passage in a letter to Laud indicates that Wentworth was well aware of the practical advantage in having such a friend as Lady Carlisle at Court. "I judge her ladyship very considerable. She is often in place, and extremely well skilled how112 to speak with advantage and spirit for those friends she professeth unto, which will not be many. There is this further in her disposition, she will not seem to be the person she is not, an ingenuity I have always observed and honoured her for."

It is something of a shock to learn that even before the Wentworth episode was well over, she became a friend of his bitterest foe, Pym. Gardiner sums up her character in as fair a way as any one,—and not at all inconsistent with Browning's portrayal of her.

"Lady Carlisle had now been for many years a widow. She had long been the reigning beauty at Court, and she loved to mingle political intrigue with social intercourse. For politics as a serious occupation she had no aptitude; but, in middle age, she felt a woman's pride in attaching to herself the strong heads by which the world was ruled, as she had attached to herself in youth, the witty courtier or the agile dancer. It was worth a statesman's while to cultivate her acquaintance. She could make him a power in society as well as in Council, could worm out a secret which it behoved him to know, and could convey to others his suggestions with assured fidelity. The calumny which treated Strafford, as it afterwards treated Pym, as her accepted113 lover, may be safely disregarded. But there can be no doubt that purely personal motives attached her both to Strafford and Pym. For Strafford's theory of Monarchical government she cared as little as she cared for Pym's theory of Parliamentary government. It may be, too, that some mingled feeling may have arisen in Strafford's breast. It was something to have an ally at Court ready at all times to plead his cause with gay enthusiasm, to warn him of hidden dangers, and to offer him the thread of that labyrinth which, under the name of 'the Queen's side,' was such a mystery to him. It was something, too, no doubt, that this advocate was not a grey haired statesman, but a woman, in spite of growing years, of winning grace and sparkling vivacity of eye and tongue."

114

Charles I

Strafford, himself, Browning brings before us, ill, and worn out with responsibility as he was upon his return to England at this time. Carlisle tactfully lets him know how he will have to face criticisms from other councillors about the King, and how even the confidence of the fickle King cannot be relied upon. In his conference with the King in this scene, Strafford, at last, wins the confidence of the King as history relates. Wentworth, horrified at the way in which a war with Scotland has been precipitated, carries his point, that Parliaments should be called in Ireland and England. This will give time for preparation, and at the same time an opportunity of convincing the people that the war is justified by Scotland's treason, so causing them willingly to grant subsidies for the expense of the war. To turn from the play to history, Commissioners from the Scottish Parliament, the Earls of Loudon and Dumferling had arrived in London to ask that the acts of the Scottish Parliament might receive confirmation from the King. This question was referred to a committee of eight Privy Councillors. Propositions were made to put the Scotch Commissioners in prison; however, the King finally decided to dismiss them without treating with them. Scottish indignation of course ran high at this proceeding, and here Wentworth stepped in and won the King to his policy of ruling Scotland directly from England. "He insisted," writes Gardiner, "that a Parliament, and a Parliament alone, was the remedy fitted for the occasion. Laud and Hamilton gave him their support. He carried his point with the Committee. What was of more importance he carried it with the King." And as one writer expressed it the Lords were of the opinion that "his Majesty should make115 trial of that once more, that so he might leave his people without excuse, and have where withal to justify himself to God and the world that in his own inclination he desired the old way; but that if his people should not cheerfully, according to their duties, meet him in that, especially in this exigent when his kingdom and person are in apparent danger, the world might see he is forced, contrary to his own inclination, to use extraordinary means rather than, by the peevishness of some few factious spirits, to suffer his state and government to be lost."

In the play as in history, Charles now confers upon Wentworth an Earldom. Shortly after this the King "was prepared," says Gardiner, "to confer upon his faithful Minister that token of his confidence which he had twice refused before. On January 12, Wentworth received the Earldom of Strafford, and a week later he exchanged the title of Lord-Deputy of Ireland for the higher dignity of Lord-Lieutenant."

In his conference with Pym, Strafford who, in talking to Carlisle, had shown a slight wavering toward the popular party, because of finding himself so surrounded by difficulties, stands firm; this episode is a striking116 working up of the tradition of the friendship between these two men.

The influence of the Queen upon Charles is the last strand in this tangled skein of human destiny brought out by Browning in the scene. The Parliament that Wentworth wants she is afraid of lest it should ask for a renewal of the persecution of the Catholics. The vacillating Charles, in an instant, is ready to repudiate his interview with Wentworth, and act only to please the Queen.

Scene II.Whitehall.

Lady Carlisle and Wentworth

Wentworth. And the King?

Lady Carlisle.Wentworth, lean on me! Sit then!
I'll tell you all; this horrible fatigue
Will kill you.

Wentworth.No;—or, Lucy, just your arm;
I'll not sit till I've cleared this up with him:
After that, rest. The King?

Lady Carlisle.Confides in you.

Wentworth. Why? or, why now?—They have kind throats, the knaves!
Shout for me—they!

Lady Carlisle.You come so strangely soon:
Yet we took measures to keep off the crowd—
Did they shout for you?

Wentworth.Wherefore should they not?
Does the King take such measures for himself?
117Besides, there's such a dearth of malcontents,
You say!

Lady Carlisle. I said but few dared carp at you.

Wentworth. At me? at us, I hope! The King and I!
He's surely not disposed to let me bear
The fame away from him of these late deeds
In Ireland? I am yet his instrument
Be it for well or ill? He trusts me too!

Lady Carlisle. The King, dear Wentworth, purposes, I said,
To grant you, in the face of all the Court....

Wentworth. All the Court! Evermore the Court about us!
Savile and Holland, Hamilton and Vane
About us,—then the King will grant me—what?
That he for once put these aside and say—
"Tell me your whole mind, Wentworth!"

Lady Carlisle.You professed
You would be calm.

Wentworth.Lucy, and I am calm!
How else shall I do all I come to do,
Broken, as you may see, body and mind,
How shall I serve the King? Time wastes meanwhile,
You have not told me half. His footstep! No.
Quick, then, before I meet him,—I am calm—
Why does the King distrust me?

Lady Carlisle.He does not
Distrust you.

Wentworth. Lucy, you can help me; you
Have even seemed to care for me: one word!
Is it the Queen?

Lady Carlisle.No, not the Queen: the party
That poisons the Queen's ear, Savile and Holland.

Wentworth. I know, I know: old Vane, too, he's one too?
118Go on—and he's made Secretary. Well?
Or leave them out and go straight to the charge—
The charge!

Lady Carlisle. Oh, there's no charge, no precise charge;
Only they sneer, make light of—one may say,
Nibble at what you do.

Wentworth.I know! but, Lucy,
I reckoned on you from the first!—Go on!
—Was sure could I once see this gentle friend
When I arrived, she'd throw an hour away
To help her ... what am I?

Lady Carlisle.You thought of me,
Dear Wentworth?

Wentworth.But go on! The party here!

Lady Carlisle. They do not think your Irish government
Of that surpassing value....

Wentworth.The one thing
Of value! The one service that the crown
May count on! All that keeps these very Vanes
In power, to vex me—not that they do vex,
Only it might vex some to hear that service
Decried, the sole support that's left the King!

Lady Carlisle. So the Archbishop says.

Wentworth.Ah? well, perhaps
The only hand held up in my defence
May be old Laud's! These Hollands then, these Saviles
Nibble? They nibble?—that's the very word!

Lady Carlisle. Your profit in the Customs, Bristol says,
Exceeds the due proportion: while the tax....

Wentworth. Enough! 'tis too unworthy,—I am not
So patient as I thought. What's Pym about?

Lady Carlisle. Pym?

Wentworth.Pym and the People.

Lady Carlisle.O, the Faction!
119Extinct—of no account: there'll never be
Another Parliament.

Wentworth.Tell Savile that!
You may know—(ay, you do—the creatures here
Never forget!) that in my earliest life
I was not ... much that I am now! The King
May take my word on points concerning Pym
Before Lord Savile's, Lucy, or if not,
I bid them ruin their wise selves, not me,
These Vanes and Hollands! I'll not be their tool
Who might be Pym's friend yet.
But there's the King!
Where is he?

Lady Carlisle. Just apprised that you arrive.

Wentworth. And why not here to meet me? I was told
He sent for me, nay, longed for me.

Lady Carlisle.Because,—
He is now ... I think a Council's sitting now
About this Scots affair.

Wentworth.A Council sits?
They have not taken a decided course
Without me in the matter?

Lady Carlisle.I should say....

Wentworth. The war? They cannot have agreed to that?
Not the Scots' war?—without consulting me—
Me, that am here to show how rash it is,
How easy to dispense with?—Ah, you too
Against me! well,—the King may take his time.
—Forget it, Lucy! Cares make peevish: mine
Weigh me (but 'tis a secret) to my grave.

Lady Carlisle. For life or death I am your own, dear friend!

[Goes out.

Wentworth. Heartless! but all are heartless here. Go now,
Forsake the People!
120I did not forsake
The People: they shall know it, when the King
Will trust me!—who trusts all beside at once,
While I have not spoke Vane and Savile fair,
And am not trusted: have but saved the throne:
Have not picked up the Queen's glove prettily,
And am not trusted. But he'll see me now.
Weston is dead: the Queen's half English now—
More English: one decisive word will brush
These insects from ... the step I know so well!
The King! But now, to tell him ... no—to ask
What's in me he distrusts:—or, best begin
By proving that this frightful Scots affair
Is just what I foretold. So much to say,
And the flesh fails, now, and the time is come,
And one false step no way to be repaired.
You were avenged, Pym, could you look on me.

Pym enters.

Wentworth. I little thought of you just then.

Pym.No? I
Think always of you, Wentworth.

Wentworth.The old voice!
I wait the King, sir.

Pym.True—you look so pale!
A Council sits within; when that breaks up
He'll see you.

Wentworth.Sir, I thank you.

Pym.Oh, thank Laud!
You know when Laud once gets on Church affairs
The case is desperate: he'll not be long
To-day: he only means to prove, to-day,
We English all are mad to have a hand
In butchering the Scots for serving God
After their fathers' fashion: only that!

Whitehall

121 Wentworth. Sir, keep your jests for those who relish them!
(Does he enjoy their confidence?) 'Tis kind
To tell me what the Council does.

Pym.You grudge
That I should know it had resolved on war
Before you came? no need: you shall have all
The credit, trust me!

Wentworth.Have the Council dared—
They have not dared ... that is—I know you not.
Farewell, sir: times are changed.

Pym.—Since we two met
At Greenwich? Yes: poor patriots though we be,
You cut a figure, makes some slight return
For your exploits in Ireland! Changed indeed,
Could our friend Eliot look from out his grave!
Ah, Wentworth, one thing for acquaintance' sake,
Just to decide a question; have you, now,
Felt your old self since you forsook us?

Wentworth.Sir!

Pym. Spare me the gesture! you misapprehend.
Think not I mean the advantage is with me.
I was about to say that, for my part,
I never quite held up my head since then—
Was quite myself since then: for first, you see,
I lost all credit after that event
With those who recollect how sure I was
Wentworth would outdo Eliot on our side.
Forgive me: Savile, old Vane, Holland here,
Eschew plain-speaking: 'tis a trick I keep.

Wentworth. How, when, where, Savile, Vane, and Holland speak,
Plainly or otherwise, would have my scorn,
All of my scorn, sir....

Pym.... Did not my poor thoughts
122 Claim somewhat?

Wentworth.Keep your thoughts! believe the King
Mistrusts me for their prattle, all these Vanes
And Saviles! make your mind up, o' God's love,
That I am discontented with the King!

Pym. Why, you may be: I should be, that I know,
Were I like you.

Wentworth.Like me?

Pym.I care not much
For titles: our friend Eliot died no lord,
Hampden's no lord, and Savile is a lord;
But you care, since you sold your soul for one.
I can't think, therefore, your soul's purchaser
Did well to laugh you to such utter scorn
When you twice prayed so humbly for its price,
The thirty silver pieces ... I should say,
The Earldom you expected, still expect,
And may. Your letters were the movingest!
Console yourself: I've borne him prayers just now
From Scotland not to be oppressed by Laud,
Words moving in their way: he'll pay, be sure,
As much attention as to those you sent.

Wentworth. False, sir! Who showed them you? Suppose it so,
The King did very well ... nay, I was glad
When it was shown me: I refused, the first!
John Pym, you were my friend—forbear me once!

Pym. Oh, Wentworth, ancient brother of my soul,
That all should come to this!

Wentworth.Leave me!

Pym.My friend,
Why should I leave you?

Wentworth.To tell Rudyard this,
123And Hampden this!

Pym.Whose faces once were bright
At my approach, now sad with doubt and fear,
Because I hope in you—yes, Wentworth, you
Who never mean to ruin England—you
Who shake off, with God's help, an obscene dream
In this Ezekiel chamber, where it crept
Upon you first, and wake, yourself, your true
And proper self, our Leader, England's Chief,
And Hampden's friend!
This is the proudest day!
Come, Wentworth! Do not even see the King!
The rough old room will seem itself again!
We'll both go in together: you've not seen
Hampden so long: come: and there's Fiennes: you'll have
To know young Vane. This is the proudest day!

[The King enters. Wentworth lets fall Pym's hand.

Charles. Arrived, my lord?—This gentleman, we know
Was your old friend.
The Scots shall be informed
What we determine for their happiness.

[Pym goes out.

You have made haste, my lord.

Wentworth.Sir, I am come....

Charles. To see an old familiar—nay, 'tis well;
Aid us with his experience: this Scots' League
And Covenant spreads too far, and we have proofs
That they intrigue with France: the Faction too,
Whereof your friend there is the head and front,
Abets them,—as he boasted, very like.

Wentworth. Sir, trust me! but for this once, trust me, sir!

Charles. What can you mean?

Wentworth. That you should trust me, sir!
124Oh—not for my sake! but 'tis sad, so sad
That for distrusting me, you suffer—you
Whom I would die to serve: sir, do you think
That I would die to serve you?

Charles.But rise, Wentworth!

Wentworth. What shall convince you? What does Savile do
To prove him.... Ah, one can't tear out one's heart
And show it, how sincere a thing it is!

Charles. Have I not trusted you?

Wentworth.Say aught but that!
There is my comfort, mark you: all will be
So different when you trust me—as you shall!
It has not been your fault,—I was away,
Mistook, maligned, how was the King to know?
I am here, now—he means to trust me, now—
All will go on so well!

Charles.Be sure I do—
I've heard that I should trust you: as you came,
Your friend, the Countess, told me....

Wentworth.No,—hear nothing—
Be told nothing about me!—you're not told
Your right-hand serves you, or your children love you!

Charles. You love me, Wentworth: rise!

Wentworth.I can speak now.
I have no right to hide the truth. 'Tis I
Can save you: only I. Sir, what must be?

Charles. Since Laud's assured (the minutes are within)
—Loath as I am to spill my subjects' blood....

Wentworth. That is, he'll have a war: what's done is done!

Charles. They have intrigued with France; that's clear to Laud.

Wentworth. Has Laud suggested any way to meet
The war's expense?

125 Charles.He'd not decide so far
Until you joined us.

Wentworth.Most considerate!
He's certain they intrigue with France, these Scots?
The People would be with us.

Charles.Pym should know.

Wentworth. The People for us—were the People for us!
Sir, a great thought comes to reward your trust:
Summon a Parliament! in Ireland first,
Then, here.

Charles.In truth?

Wentworth.That saves us! that puts off
The war, gives time to right their grievances—
To talk with Pym. I know the Faction,—Laud
So styles it,—tutors Scotland: all their plans
Suppose no Parliament: in calling one
You take them by surprise. Produce the proofs
Of Scotland's treason; then bid England help:
Even Pym will not refuse.

Charles.You would begin
With Ireland?

Wentworth. Take no care for that: that's sure
To prosper.

Charles. You shall rule me. You were best
Return at once: but take this ere you go!
Now, do I trust you? You're an Earl: my Friend
Of Friends: yes, while.... You hear me not!

Wentworth. Say it all o'er again—but once again:
The first was for the music: once again!

Charles. Strafford, my friend, there may have been reports,
Vain rumors. Henceforth touching Strafford is
To touch the apple of my sight: why gaze
So earnestly?

Wentworth. I am grown young again,
126And foolish. What was it we spoke of?

Charles.Ireland,
The Parliament,—

Wentworth.I may go when I will?
—Now?

Charles. Are you tired so soon of us?

Wentworth.My King!
But you will not so utterly abhor
A Parliament? I'd serve you any way.

Charles. You said just now this was the only way.

Wentworth. Sir, I will serve you.

Charles.Strafford, spare yourself:
You are so sick, they tell me.

Wentworth.'Tis my soul
That's well and prospers now.
This Parliament—
We'll summon it, the English one—I'll care
For everything. You shall not need them much.

Charles. If they prove restive....

Wentworth.I shall be with you.

Charles. Ere they assemble?

Wentworth.I will come, or else
Deposit this infirm humanity
I' the dust. My whole heart stays with you, my King!

[As Wentworth goes out, the Queen enters.

Charles. That man must love me.

Queen.Is it over then?
Why, he looks yellower than ever! Well,
At least we shall not hear eternally
Of service—services: he's paid at least.

Charles. Not done with: he engages to surpass
All yet performed in Ireland.

Queen.I had thought
Nothing beyond was ever to be done.
The war, Charles—will he raise supplies enough?

127 Charles. We've hit on an expedient; he ... that is,
I have advised ... we have decided on
The calling—in Ireland—of a Parliament.

Queen. O truly! You agree to that? Is that
The first fruit of his counsel? But I guessed
As much.

Charles.This is too idle, Henriette!
I should know best. He will strain every nerve,
And once a precedent established....

Queen.Notice
How sure he is of a long term of favor!
He'll see the next, and the next after that;
No end to Parliaments!

Charles.Well, it is done.
He talks it smoothly, doubtless. If, indeed,
The Commons here....

Queen.Here! you will summon them
Here? Would I were in France again to see
A King!

Charles. But, Henriette....

Queen.Oh, the Scots see clear!
Why should they bear your rule?

Charles.But listen, sweet!

Queen. Let Wentworth listen—you confide in him!

Charles. I do not, love,—I do not so confide!
The Parliament shall never trouble us
... Nay, hear me! I have schemes, such schemes: we'll buy
The leaders off: without that, Wentworth's counsel
Had ne'er prevailed on me. Perhaps I call it
To have excuse for breaking it for ever,
And whose will then the blame be? See you not?
Come, dearest!—look, the little fairy, now,
That cannot reach my shoulder! Dearest, come!

128 In the second act, the historical episode, which pervades the act is the assembling and the dissolution of the Short Parliament. Only the salient points of the political situation have been seized upon by Browning. As in the first act, the popular party in private conclave is introduced. From the talk it is gathered that feeling runs high against Strafford, by whose advice the Parliament had been called, because of the exorbitant demands made upon it for money to support an army, this army to crush Scotland whose cause was so nearly like its own. The popular party or the Faction had supposed the Parliament would be a means for the redressing of its long list of grievances which had been accumulating during the years since the last Parliament had been held. Instead of that the Commons was deliberately informed by Charles that there would be no discussions of its demands until it had granted the subsidies for which it had been asked. The play gives one a much more lively sense of the indignant feelings of the duped men than can possibly be gained by reading many more pages of history with its endless minor details. Upon this gathering, Pym suddenly enters again, and to the reproaches of him for his belief in Strafford, makes the reply that the Parliament129 has been dissolved, the King has cast Strafford off forever, and henceforth Strafford will be on their side,—a conclusion not warranted by history, and, of course, found out to be erroneous by Pym and his followers in the next scene. Again there is the dramatic need to emphasize the human side of life even in an essentially political play, by showing that Pym's friendship and loyalty to Wentworth were no uncertain elements in his character. The moment it could be proved beyond a doubt that Wentworth was in the eyes of Pym, England's enemy, that moment Pym knew it would become his painful duty to crush Wentworth utterly, therefore Pym had for his own conscience' sake to make the uttermost trial of his faith.

The second scene, as in the first act, brings out the other side. It is in the main true to history though much condensed. History relates that after the Short Parliament was dissolved, "voices were raised at Whitehall in condemnation of Strafford." His policy of raising subsidies from the Parliament having failed, criticisms would, of course, be made upon his having pushed ahead a war without the proper means of sustaining it. Charles himself was also frightened by the manifestations of popular discontent and failed to uphold Wentworth in his policy.

130 Northumberland had been appointed commander-in-chief of the army, but besides having little heart for an enterprise so badly prepared for, he was ill in bed and could not take command of the army, so the King appointed Strafford in his place. A hint of Strafford as he appears in this scene may be taken from Clarendon who writes "The earl of Strafford was scarce recovered from a great sickness, yet was willing to undertake the charge out of pure indignation to see how few men were forward to serve the King with that vigor of mind they ought to do; but knowing well the malicious designs which were contrived against himself, he would rather serve as lieutenant-general under the earl of Northumberland, than that he should resign his commission: and so, with and under that qualification, he made all possible haste towards the north before he had strength enough for the journey." Browning makes the King tell Strafford in this interview that he has dissolved the Parliament. He represents Strafford as horrified by the news and driven in this extremity to suggest the desperate measure of debasing the coinage as a means of obtaining funds. Strafford actually counseled this, when all else failed, namely, the proposed loan from the city, and one from the Spanish govern131ment, but, according to history, he himself voted for the dissolution of Parliament, though the play is accurate in laying the necessity of the dissolution at the door of old Vane. It was truly his ill-judged vehemence, for, not able to brook the arguments of the Commons, "He rose," says Gardiner, "to state that the King would accept nothing less than the twelve subsidies which he had demanded in his message. Upon this the Committee broke up without coming to a resolution, postponing further consideration of the matter to the following day." The next morning the King who had called his councillors together early "announced his intention of proceeding to a dissolution. Strafford, who arrived late, begged that the question might first be seriously discussed, and that the opinions of the Councillors, who were also members of the Lower House, might first be heard. Vane declared that there was no hope that the Commons 'would give one penny.' On this the votes were taken. Northumberland and Holland were alone in wishing to avert a dissolution. Supported by the rest of the Council the King hurried to the House of Lords and dissolved Parliament."

Wholly imaginary is the episode in this scene where Pym and his followers break in upon132 the interview of Wentworth and the King. Just at the climax of Wentworth's sorrowful rage at the King's treatment of him, they come to claim Wentworth for their side.

That you would say I did advise the war;
And if, through your own weakness, or what's worse,
These Scots, with God to help them, drive me back,
You will not step between the raging People
And me, to say....
I knew it! from the first
I knew it! Never was so cold a heart!
Remember that I said it—that I never
Believed you for a moment!
—And, you loved me?
You thought your perfidy profoundly hid
Because I could not share the whisperings
With Vane, with Savile? What, the face was masked?
I had the heart to see, sir! Face of flesh,
But heart of stone—of smooth cold frightful stone!
Ay, call them! Shall I call for you? The Scots
Goaded to madness? Or the English—Pym—
Shall I call Pym, your subject? Oh, you think
I'll leave them in the dark about it all?
They shall not know you? Hampden, Pym shall not?

Pym, Hampden, Vane, etc., enter.

[Dropping on his knee.] Thus favored with your gracious countenance
What shall a rebel League avail against
Your servant, utterly and ever yours?
So, gentlemen, the King's not even left
The privilege of bidding me farewell
133Who haste to save the People—that you style
Your People—from the mercies of the Scots
And France their friend?
[To Charles.] Pym's grave grey eyes are fixed
Upon you, sir!
Your pleasure, gentlemen?

Hampden. The King dissolved us—'tis the King we seek
And not Lord Strafford.

Strafford.—Strafford, guilty too
Of counselling the measure. [To Charles.] (Hush ... you know—
You have forgotten—sir, I counselled it)
A heinous matter, truly! But the King
Will yet see cause to thank me for a course
Which now, perchance ... (Sir, tell them so!)—he blames.
Well, choose some fitter time to make your charge:
I shall be with the Scots, you understand?
Then yelp at me!
Meanwhile, your Majesty
Binds me, by this fresh token of your trust....

[Under the pretence of an earnest farewell, Strafford conducts Charles to the door, in such a manner as to hide his agitation from the rest: as the King disappears, they turn as by one impulse to Pym, who has not changed his original posture of surprise.

Hampden. Leave we this arrogant strong wicked man!

Vane and others. Hence, Pym! Come out of this unworthy place
To our old room again! He's gone.

[Strafford, just about to follow the King, looks back.

Pym.Not gone!
[To Strafford.] Keep tryst! the old appointment's made anew:
134Forget not we shall meet again!

Strafford.So be it!
And if an army follows me?

Vane.His friends
Will entertain your army!

Pym.I'll not say
You have misreckoned, Strafford: time shows.
Perish
Body and spirit! Fool to feign a doubt,
Pretend the scrupulous and nice reserve
Of one whose prowess shall achieve the feat!
What share have I in it? Do I affect
To see no dismal sign above your head
When God suspends his ruinous thunder there?
Strafford is doomed. Touch him no one of you!

[Pym, Hampden, etc., go out.

Strafford. Pym, we shall meet again!

In the final talk of this scene with Carlisle, the pathos of Strafford's position is wonderfully brought out—the man who loves his King so overmuch that no perfidy on the King's part can make his resolution to serve him waver for an instant.

Lady Carlisle enters.

You here, child?

Lady Carlisle.Hush—
I know it all: hush, Strafford!

Strafford.Ah? you know?
Well. I shall make a sorry soldier, Lucy!
All knights begin their enterprise, we read,
135Under the best of auspices; 'tis morn,
The Lady girds his sword upon the Youth
(He's always very young)—the trumpets sound,
Cups pledge him, and, why, the King blesses him—
You need not turn a page of the romance
To learn the Dreadful Giant's fate. Indeed,
We've the fair Lady here; but she apart,—
A poor man, rarely having handled lance,
And rather old, weary, and far from sure
His Squires are not the Giant's friends. All's one:
Let us go forth!

Lady Carlisle.Go forth?

Strafford.What matters it?
We shall die gloriously—as the book says.

Lady Carlisle. To Scotland? Not to Scotland?

Strafford.Am I sick
Like your good brother, brave Northumberland?
Beside, these walls seem falling on me.

Lady Carlisle.Strafford,
The wind that saps these walls can undermine
Your camp in Scotland, too. Whence creeps the wind?
Have you no eyes except for Pym? Look here!
A breed of silken creatures lurk and thrive
In your contempt. You'll vanquish Pym? Old Vane
Can vanquish you. And Vane you think to fly?
Rush on the Scots! Do nobly! Vane's slight sneer
Shall test success, adjust the praise, suggest
The faint result: Vane's sneer shall reach you there.
—You do not listen!

Strafford.Oh,—I give that up!
There's fate in it: I give all here quite up.
Care not what old Vane does or Holland does
Against me! 'Tis so idle to withstand!
In no case tell me what they do!

Lady Carlisle.But, Strafford....

136Strafford. I want a little strife, beside; real strife;
This petty palace-warfare does me harm:
I shall feel better, fairly out of it.

Lady Carlisle.Why do you smile?

Strafford. I got to fear them, child!
I could have torn his throat at first, old Vane's,
As he leered at me on his stealthy way
To the Queen's closet. Lord, one loses heart!
I often found it on my lips to say
"Do not traduce me to her!"

Lady Carlisle.But the King....

Strafford. The King stood there, 'tis not so long ago,
—There; and the whisper, Lucy, "Be my friend
Of friends!"—My King! I would have....

Lady Carlisle.... Died for him?

Strafford. Sworn him true, Lucy: I can die for him.

Lady Carlisle. But go not, Strafford! But you must renounce
This project on the Scots! Die, wherefore die?
Charles never loved you.

Strafford.And he never will.
He's not of those who care the more for men
That they're unfortunate.

Lady Carlisle.Then wherefore die
For such a master?

Strafford.You that told me first
How good he was—when I must leave true friends
To find a truer friend!—that drew me here
From Ireland,—"I had but to show myself
And Charles would spurn Vane, Savile, and the rest"—
You, child, to ask me this?

Lady Carlisle.(If he have set
His heart abidingly on Charles!)
Then, friend,
I shall not see you any more.137

Strafford.Yes, Lucy.
There's one man here I have to meet.

Lady Carlisle.(The King!
What way to save him from the King?
My soul—
That lent from its own store the charmed disguise
Which clothes the King—he shall behold my soul!)
Strafford,—I shall speak best if you'll not gaze
Upon me: I had never thought, indeed,
To speak, but you would perish too, so sure!
Could you but know what 'tis to bear, my friend,
One image stamped within you, turning blank
The else imperial brilliance of your mind,—
A weakness, but most precious,—like a flaw
I' the diamond, which should shape forth some sweet face
Yet to create, and meanwhile treasured there
Lest nature lose her gracious thought for ever!

Strafford. When could it be? no! Yet ... was it the day
We waited in the anteroom, till Holland
Should leave the presence-chamber?

Lady Carlisle.What?

Strafford.—That I
Described to you my love for Charles?

Lady Carlisle.(Ah, no—
One must not lure him from a love like that!
Oh, let him love the King and die! 'Tis past.
I shall not serve him worse for that one brief
And passionate hope, silent for ever now!)
And you are really bound for Scotland then?
I wish you well: you must be very sure
Of the King's faith, for Pym and all his crew
Will not be idle—setting Vane aside!

Strafford. If Pym is busy,—you may write of Pym.

138Lady Carlisle. What need, since there's your King to take your part?
He may endure Vane's counsel; but for Pym—
Think you he'll suffer Pym to....

Strafford.Child, your hair
Is glossier than the Queen's!

Lady Carlisle.Is that to ask
A curl of me?

Strafford.Scotland——the weary way!

Lady Carlisle. Stay, let me fasten it.
—A rival's, Strafford?

Strafford [showing the George]. He hung it there: twine yours around it, child!

Lady Carlisle. No—no—another time—I trifle so!
And there's a masque on foot. Farewell. The Court
Is dull; do something to enliven us
In Scotland: we expect it at your hands.

Strafford. I shall not fail in Scotland.

Lady Carlisle.Prosper—if
You'll think of me sometimes!

Strafford.How think of him
And not of you? of you, the lingering streak
(A golden one) in my good fortune's eve.

Lady Carlisle. Strafford.... Well, when the eve has its last streak
The night has its first star.

[She goes out.

Strafford.That voice of hers—
You'd think she had a heart sometimes! His voice
Is soft too.
Only God can save him now.
Be Thou about his bed, about his path!
His path! Where's England's path? Diverging wide,
And not to join again the track my foot
139Must follow—whither? All that forlorn way
Among the tombs! Far—far—till.... What, they do
Then join again, these paths? For, huge in the dusk,
There's—Pym to face!
Why then, I have a foe
To close with, and a fight to fight at last
Worthy my soul! What, do they beard the King,
And shall the King want Strafford at his need?
Am I not here?
Not in the market-place,
Pressed on by the rough artisans, so proud
To catch a glance from Wentworth! They lie down
Hungry yet smile "Why, it must end some day:
Is he not watching for our sake?" Not there!
But in Whitehall, the whited sepulchre,
The....
Curse nothing to-night! Only one name
They'll curse in all those streets to-night. Whose fault?
Did I make kings? set up, the first, a man
To represent the multitude, receive
All love in right of them—supplant them so,
Until you love the man and not the king——
The man with the mild voice and mournful eyes
Which send me forth.
—To breast the bloody sea
That sweeps before me: with one star for guide.
Night has its first, supreme, forsaken star.

During the third act, the long Parliament is in session, and Pym is making his great speech impeaching Wentworth.

The conditions of affairs at the time of this Parliament were well-nigh desperate for Charles and Wentworth. Things had not gone well140 with the Scottish war and Wentworth was falling more and more into disfavor. England was now threatened with a Scottish invasion. Still, even with this danger to face it was impossible to raise money to support the army. The English had a suspicion that the Scotch cause was their own. The universal demand for a Parliament could no longer be ignored; the King, therefore, summoned it to meet on the third of November. As Firth observes, "To Strafford this meant ruin, but he hardly realized the greatness of the danger in which he stood. On October 8, the Scotch Commissioners in a public paper denounced him as an incendiary, and declared that they meant to insist on his punishment.

"As soon as the Parliament opened Charles discovered that it was necessary for his service to have Strafford again by his side, and summoned him to London. There is evidence that his friends urged him to pass over to Ireland where the army rested at his devotion, or to transport himself to foreign Kingdoms till fairer weather here should invite him home. The Marquis of Hamilton advised him to fly, but as Hamilton told the King, the Earl was too great-hearted to fear. Though conscious of the peril of obedience, he set out to London to stand by his Master."

141 The enmity of the Court party to Strafford is touched upon in the first scene, and in the second, Strafford's return, unsuspecting of the great blow that awaits him. He had indeed meditated a blow on his own part. According to Firth, he felt that "One desperate resource remained. The intrigues of the parliamentary leaders with the Scots had come to Strafford's knowledge, and he had determined to impeach them of high treason. He could prove that Pym and his friends had secretly communicated with the rebels, and invited them to bring a Scottish army into England. Strafford arrived in London on Monday, November 9, 1640, and spent Tuesday in resting after his journey. On the morning of Wednesday the 11th, he took his seat in the House of Lords, but did not strike the blow." Upon that day he was impeached of high treason by Pym. Gardiner's account here has much the same dramatic force as the play.

"Followed by a crowd of approving members, Pym carried up the message. Whilst the Lords were still debating on this unusual request for imprisonment before the charge had been set forth, the news of the impeachment was carried to Strafford. 'I will go,' he proudly said 'and look my accusers in the142 face.' With haughty mien and scowling brow he strode up the floor of the House to his place of honor. There were those amongst the Peers who had no wish to allow him to speak, lest he should accuse them of complicity with the Scots. The Lords, as a body, felt even more personally aggrieved by his method of government than the Commons. Shouts of 'Withdraw! withdraw!' rose from every side. As soon as he was gone an order was passed sequestering the Lord-Lieutenant from his place in the House and committing him to the custody of the Gentleman Usher. He was then called in and bidden to kneel whilst the order was read. He asked permission to speak, but his request was sternly refused. Maxwell, the Usher of the Black Rod, took from him his sword, and conducted him out of the House. The crowd outside gazed pitilessly on the fallen minister, 'No man capping to him, before whom that morning the greatest in England would have stood dis-covered.' 'What is the matter?' they asked. 'A small matter, I warrant you,' replied Strafford with forced levity. 'Yes, indeed,' answered a bystander, 'high treason is a small matter.'"

This passage brings up the scene in a manner so similar to that of the play, it is safe to say that Gardiner was here 143influenced by Browning, the history having been written many years after the play.

The Queen and Lady Carlisle.

Queen. It cannot be.

Lady Carlisle.It is so.

Queen.Why, the House
Have hardly met.

Lady Carlisle. They met for that.

Queen.No, no!
Meet to impeach Lord Strafford? 'Tis a jest.

Lady Carlisle. A bitter one.

Queen.Consider! 'Tis the House
We summoned so reluctantly, which nothing
But the disastrous issue of the war
Persuaded us to summon. They'll wreak all
Their spite on us, no doubt; but the old way
Is to begin by talk of grievances:
They have their grievances to busy them.

Lady Carlisle. Pym has begun his speech.

Queen.Where's Vane?—That is,
Pym will impeach Lord Strafford if he leaves
His Presidency; he's at York, we know,
Since the Scots beat him: why should he leave York?

Lady Carlisle. Because the King sent for him.

Queen.Ah—but if
The King did send for him, he let him know
We had been forced to call a Parliament—
A step which Strafford, now I come to think,
Was vehement against.

Lady Carlisle.The policy
144Escaped him, of first striking Parliaments
To earth, then setting them upon their feet
And giving them a sword: but this is idle.
Did the King send for Strafford? He will come.

Queen. And what am I to do?

Lady Carlisle. What do? Fail, madam!
Be ruined for his sake! what matters how,
So it but stand on record that you made
An effort, only one?

Queen.The King away
At Theobald's!

Lady Carlisle. Send for him at once: he must
Dissolve the House.

Queen.Wait till Vane finds the truth
Of the report: then....

Lady Carlisle.—It will matter little
What the King does. Strafford that lends his arm
And breaks his heart for you!

Sir H. Vane enters.

Vane.The Commons, madam,
Are sitting with closed doors. A huge debate,
No lack of noise; but nothing, I should guess,
Concerning Strafford: Pym has certainly
Not spoken yet.

Queen [to Lady Carlisle]. You hear?

Lady Carlisle.I do not hear
That the King's sent for!

Vane.Savile will be able
To tell you more.

Holland enters.

Queen.The last news, Holland?

Holland.Pym
Is raging like a fire. The whole House means
145To follow him together to Whitehall
And force the King to give up Strafford.

Queen.Strafford?

Holland. If they content themselves with Strafford! Laud
Is talked of, Cottington and Windebank too.
Pym has not left out one of them—I would
You heard Pym raging!

Queen.Vane, go find the King!
Tell the King, Vane, the People follow Pym
To brave us at Whitehall!

Savile enters.

Savile.Not to Whitehall—
'Tis to the Lords they go: they seek redress
On Strafford from his peers—the legal way,
They call it.

Queen.(Wait, Vane!)

Savile.But the adage gives
Long life to threatened men. Strafford can save
Himself so readily: at York, remember,
In his own country: what has he to fear?
The Commons only mean to frighten him
From leaving York. Surely, he will not come.

Queen. Lucy, he will not come!

Lady Carlisle.Once more, the King
Has sent for Strafford. He will come.

Vane.Oh doubtless!
And bring destruction with him: that's his way.
What but his coming spoilt all Conway's plan?
The King must take his counsel, choose his friends,
Be wholly ruled by him! What's the result?
The North that was to rise, Ireland to help,—
What came of it? In my poor mind, a fright
Is no prodigious punishment.

146 Lady Carlisle.A fright?
Pym will fail worse than Strafford if he thinks
To frighten him. [To the Queen.] You will not save him then?

Savile. When something like a charge is made, the King
Will best know how to save him: and t'is clear,
While Strafford suffers nothing by the matter,
The King may reap advantage: this in question,
No dinning you with ship-money complaints!

Queen [to Lady Carlisle]. If we dissolve them, who will pay the army?
Protect us from the insolent Scots?

Lady Carlisle.In truth,
I know not, madam. Strafford's fate concerns
Me little: you desired to learn what course
Would save him: I obey you.

Vane.Notice, too,
There can't be fairer ground for taking full
Revenge—(Strafford's revengeful)—than he'll have
Against his old friend Pym.

Queen.Why, he shall claim
Vengeance on Pym!

Vane.And Strafford, who is he
To 'scape unscathed amid the accidents
That harass all beside? I, for my part,
Should look for something of discomfiture
Had the King trusted me so thoroughly
And been so paid for it.

Holland.He'll keep at York:
All will blow over: he'll return no worse,
Humbled a little, thankful for a place
Under as good a man. Oh, we'll dispense
With seeing Strafford for a month or two!

Strafford enters.

147Queen. You here!

Strafford.The King sends for me, madam.

Queen.Sir,
The King....

Strafford.An urgent matter that imports the King!
[To Lady Carlisle.] Why, Lucy, what's in agitation now,
That all this muttering and shrugging, see,
Begins at me? They do not speak!

Lady Carlisle.'Tis welcome!
For we are proud of you—happy and proud
To have you with us, Strafford! You were staunch
At Durham: you did well there! Had you not
Been stayed, you might have ... we said, even now,
Our hope's in you!

Vane [to Lady Carlisle]. The Queen would speak with you.

Strafford. Will one of you, his servants here, vouchsafe
To signify my presence to the King?

Savile.An urgent matter?

Strafford. None that touches you,
Lord Savile! Say, it were some treacherous
Sly pitiful intriguing with the Scots—
You would go free, at least! (They half divine
My purpose!) Madam, shall I see the King?
The service I would render, much concerns
His welfare.

Queen.But his Majesty, my lord,
May not be here, may....

Strafford.Its importance, then,
Must plead excuse for this withdrawal, madam,
And for the grief it gives Lord Savile here.

Queen [who has been conversing with Vane and Holland].
The King will see you, sir!
[To Lady Carlisle.]Mark me: Pym's worst
148Is done by now: he has impeached the Earl,
Or found the Earl too strong for him, by now.
Let us not seem instructed! We should work
No good to Strafford, but deform ourselves
With shame in the world's eye. [To Strafford.] His Majesty
Has much to say with you.

Strafford.Time fleeting, too!
[To Lady Carlisle.] No means of getting them away? And She—
What does she whisper? Does she know my purpose?
What does she think of it? Get them away!

Queen [to Lady Carlisle]. He comes to baffle Pym—he thinks the danger
Far off: tell him no word of it! a time
For help will come; we'll not be wanting then.
Keep him in play, Lucy—you, self-possessed
And calm! [To Strafford.] To spare your lordship some delay
I will myself acquaint the King. [To Lady Carlisle.] Beware!

[The Queen, Vane, Holland, and Savile go out.

Strafford. She knows it?

Lady Carlisle.Tell me, Strafford!

Strafford.Afterward!
This moment's the great moment of all time.
She knows my purpose?

Lady Carlisle.Thoroughly: just now
She bade me hide it from you.

Strafford.Quick, dear child,
The whole o' the scheme?

Lady Carlisle.(Ah, he would learn if they
Connive at Pym's procedure! Could they but
Have once apprised the King! But there's no time
For falsehood, now.) Strafford, the whole is known.

149Strafford. Known and approved?

Lady Carlisle.Hardly discountenanced.

Strafford. And the King—say, the King consents as well?

Lady Carlisle. The King's not yet informed, but will not dare
To interpose.

Strafford.What need to wait him, then?
He'll sanction it! I stayed, child, tell him, long!
It vexed me to the soul—this waiting here.
You know him, there's no counting on the King.
Tell him I waited long!

Lady Carlisle.(What can he mean?
Rejoice at the King's hollowness?)

Strafford.I knew
They would be glad of it,—all over once,
I knew they would be glad: but he'd contrive,
The Queen and he, to mar, by helping it,
An angel's making.

Lady Carlisle.(Is he mad?) Dear Strafford,
You were not wont to look so happy.

Strafford.Sweet,
I tried obedience thoroughly. I took
The King's wild plan: of course, ere I could reach
My army, Conway ruined it. I drew
The wrecks together, raised all heaven and earth,
And would have fought the Scots: the King at once
Made truce with them. Then, Lucy, then, dear child,
God put it in my mind to love, serve, die
For Charles, but never to obey him more!
While he endured their insolence at Ripon
I fell on them at Durham. But you'll tell
The King I waited? All the anteroom
Is filled with my adherents.

150 Lady Carlisle. Strafford—Strafford,
What daring act is this you hint?

Strafford.No, no!
'Tis here, not daring if you knew? all here!

[Drawing papers from his breast.

Full proof, see, ample proof—does the Queen know
I have such damning proof? Bedford and Essex,
Brooke, Warwick, Savile (did you notice Savile?
The simper that I spoilt?), Saye, Mandeville—
Sold to the Scots, body and soul, by Pym!

Lady Carlisle.Great heaven!

Strafford. From Savile and his lords, to Pym
And his losels, crushed!—Pym shall not ward the blow
Nor Savile creep aside from it! The Crew
And the Cabal—I crush them!

Lady Carlisle.And you go—
Strafford,—and now you go?—

Strafford.—About no work
In the background, I promise you! I go
Straight to the House of Lords to claim these knaves.
Mainwaring!

Lady Carlisle. Stay—stay, Strafford!

Strafford.She'll return,
The Queen—some little project of her own!
No time to lose: the King takes fright perhaps.

Lady Carlisle. Pym's strong, remember!

Strafford.Very strong, as fits
The Faction's head—with no offence to Hampden,
Vane, Rudyard and my loving Hollis: one
And all they lodge within the Tower to-night
In just equality. Bryan! Mainwaring!

[Many of his Adherents enter.

The Peers debate just now (a lucky chance)
On the Scots' war; my visit's opportune.
151When all is over, Bryan, you proceed
To Ireland: these dispatches, mark me, Bryan,
Are for the Deputy, and these for Ormond:
We want the army here—my army, raised
At such a cost, that should have done such good,
And was inactive all the time! no matter,
We'll find a use for it. Willis ... or, no—you!
You, friend, make haste to York: bear this, at once ...
Or,—better stay for form's sake, see yourself
The news you carry. You remain with me
To execute the Parliament's command,
Mainwaring! Help to seize these lesser knaves,
Take care there's no escaping at backdoors:
I'll not have one escape, mind me—not one!
I seem revengeful, Lucy? Did you know
What these men dare!

Lady Carlisle.It is so much they dare!

Strafford. I proved that long ago; my turn is now.
Keep sharp watch, Goring, on the citizens!
Observe who harbors any of the brood
That scramble off: be sure they smart for it!
Our coffers are but lean.
And you, child, too,
Shall have your task; deliver this to Laud.
Laud will not be the slowest in thy praise:
"Thorough" he'll cry!—Foolish, to be so glad!
This life is gay and glowing, after all:
'Tis worth while, Lucy, having foes like mine
Just for the bliss of crushing them. To-day
Is worth the living for.

Lady Carlisle.That reddening brow!
You seem....

Strafford.Well—do I not? I would be well—
I could not but be well on such a day!
152And, this day ended, 'tis of slight import
How long the ravaged frame subjects the soul
In Strafford.

Lady Carlisle. Noble Strafford!

Strafford.No farewell!
I'll see you anon, to-morrow—the first thing.
—If She should come to stay me!

Lady Carlisle.Go—'tis nothing—
Only my heart that swells: it has been thus
Ere now: go, Strafford!

Strafford.To-night, then, let it be.
I must see Him: you, the next after Him.
I'll tell how Pym looked. Follow me, friends!
You, gentlemen, shall see a sight this hour
To talk of all your lives. Close after me!
"My friend of friends!"

[Strafford and the rest go out.

Lady Carlisle.The King—ever the King!
No thought of one beside, whose little word
Unveils the King to him—one word from me,
Which yet I do not breathe!
Ah, have I spared
Strafford a pang, and shall I seek reward
Beyond that memory? Surely too, some way
He is the better for my love. No, no—
He would not look so joyous—I'll believe
His very eye would never sparkle thus,
Had I not prayed for him this long, long while.

Scene III.The Antechamber of the House of Lords.

Many of the Presbyterian Party. The Adherents of Strafford, etc.

A Group of Presbyterians. —1. I tell you he struck Maxwell: Maxwell sought
153 To stay the Earl: he struck him and passed on.

2. Fear as you may, keep a good countenance
Before these rufflers.
3.Strafford here the first,
With the great army at his back!
4.No doubt.
I would Pym had made haste: that's Bryan, hush—
The gallant pointing.

Strafford's Followers. —1. Mark these worthies, now!
2. A goodly gathering! "Where the carcass is
There shall the eagles"—what's the rest?
3.For eagles
Say crows.

A Presbyterian. Stand back, sirs!

One of Strafford's Followers.Are we in Geneva?

A Presbyterian. No, nor in Ireland; we have leave to breathe.

One of Strafford's Followers. Truly? Behold how privileged we be
That serve "King Pym"! There's Some-one at Whitehall
Who skulks obscure; but Pym struts....

The Presbyterian.Nearer.

A Follower of Strafford.Higher,
We look to see him. [To his Companions.] I'm to have St. John
In charge; was he among the knaves just now
That followed Pym within there?

Another.The gaunt man
Talking with Rudyard. Did the Earl expect
Pym at his heels so fast? I like it not.

Maxwell enters.

154Another. Why, man, they rush into the net! Here's Maxwell—
Ha, Maxwell? How the brethren flock around
The fellow! Do you feel the Earl's hand yet
Upon your shoulder, Maxwell?

Maxwell.Gentlemen,
Stand back! a great thing passes here.

A Follower of Strafford [To another].The Earl
Is at his work! [To M.] Say, Maxwell, what great thing!
Speak out! [To a Presbyterian.] Friend, I've a kindness for you! Friend,
I've seen you with St. John: O stockishness!
Wear such a ruff, and never call to mind
St. John's head in a charger? How, the plague,
Not laugh?

Another. Say, Maxwell, what great thing!

Another.Nay, wait:
The jest will be to wait.

First.And who's to bear
These demure hypocrites? You'd swear they came ...
Came ... just as we come!

[A Puritan enters hastily and without observing Strafford's Followers.

The Puritan.How goes on the work?
Has Pym....

A Follower of Strafford. The secret's out at last. Aha,
The carrion's scented! Welcome, crow the first!
Gorge merrily, you with the blinking eye!
"King Pym has fallen!"

The Puritan.Pym?

A Strafford.Pym!

A Presbyterian.Only Pym?

Many of Strafford's Followers. No, brother, not Pym only; Vane as well,
Rudyard as well, Hampden, St. John as well!

A Presbyterian. My mind misgives: can it be true?

155 Another.Lost! Lost!

A Strafford. Say we true, Maxwell?

The Puritan.Pride before destruction,
A haughty spirit goeth before a fall.

Many of Strafford's Followers.Ah now! The very thing! A word in season!
A golden apple in a silver picture,
To greet Pym as he passes!

[The doors at the back begin to open, noise and light issuing.

Maxwell.Stand back, all!

Many of the Presbyterians. I hold with Pym! And I!

Strafford's Followers. Now for the text!
He comes! Quick!

The Puritan.How hath the oppressor ceased!
The Lord hath broken the staff of the wicked!
The sceptre of the rulers, he who smote
The people in wrath with a continual stroke,
That ruled the nations in his anger—he
Is persecuted and none hindreth!

[The doors open, and Strafford issues in the greatest disorder, and amid cries from within of "Void the House!"

Strafford. Impeach me! Pym! I never struck, I think,
The felon on that calm insulting mouth
When it proclaimed—Pym's mouth proclaimed me ... God!
Was it a word, only a word that held
The outrageous blood back on my heart—which beats!
Which beats! Some one word—"Traitor," did he say,
Bending that eye, brimful of bitter fire,
Upon me?

Maxwell. In the Commons' name, their servant
Demands Lord Strafford's sword.

156Strafford.What did you say?

Maxwell. The Commons bid me ask your lordship's sword.

Strafford. Let us go forth: follow me, gentlemen!
Draw your swords too: cut any down that bar us.
On the King's service! Maxwell, clear the way!

[The Presbyterians prepare to dispute his passage.

Strafford. I stay: the King himself shall see me here.
Your tablets, fellow!
[To Mainwaring.]Give that to the King!
Yes, Maxwell, for the next half-hour, let be!
Nay, you shall take my sword!

[Maxwell advances to take it.

Or, no—not that!
Their blood, perhaps, may wipe out all thus far,
All up to that—not that! Why, friend, you see
When the King lays your head beneath my foot
It will not pay for that. Go, all of you!

Maxwell. I dare, my lord, to disobey: none stir!

Strafford. This gentle Maxwell!—Do not touch him, Bryan!
[To the Presbyterians.] Whichever cur of you will carry this
Escapes his fellow's fate. None saves his life?
None?

[Cries from within of "Strafford!"

Slingsby, I've loved you at least: make haste!
Stab me! I have not time to tell you why.
You then, my Bryan! Mainwaring, you then!
Is it because I spoke so hastily
At Allerton? The King had vexed me.
[To the Presbyterians.]You!
—Not even you? If I live over this,
The King is sure to have your heads, you know!
But what if I can't live this minute through?
Pym, who is there with his pursuing smile!

[Louder cries of "Strafford!"

157The King! I troubled him, stood in the way
Of his negotiations, was the one
Great obstacle to peace, the Enemy
Of Scotland: and he sent for me, from York,
My safety guaranteed—having prepared
A Parliament—I see! And at Whitehall
The Queen was whispering with Vane—I see
The trap!

[Tearing off the George.

I tread a gewgaw underfoot,
And cast a memory from me. One stroke, now!

[His own Adherents disarm him. Renewed cries of "Strafford!"

England! I see thy arm in this and yield.
Pray you now—Pym awaits me—pray you now!

[Strafford reaches the doors: they open wide. Hampden and a crowd discovered, and, at the bar, Pym standing apart. As Strafford kneels, the scene shuts.

Westminster Hall

The history of the fourth act deals with further episodes of Strafford's trial, especially with the change in the procedure from Impeachment to a Bill of Attainder against Strafford. The details of this great trial are complicated and cannot be followed in all their ramifications here. There was danger that the Impeachment would not go through. Strafford, himself, felt confident that in law his actions could not be found treasonable.

After Strafford's brilliant defense of himself, it was decided to bring in a Bill of Attainder. New evidence against Strafford con158tained in some notes which the younger Vane had found among his father's papers were used to strengthen the charge of treason. In these notes Strafford had advised the King to act "loose and absolved from all rules of government," and had reminded him that there was an army in Ireland, ready to reduce the Kingdom. These notes were found by the merest accident. The younger Vane who had just been knighted and was about to be married, borrowed his father's keys in order to look up some law papers. In his search he fell upon these notes taken at a committee that met immediately after the dissolution of the short Parliament. He made a copy and carried it to Pym who also made a copy.

According to Baillie, the "secret" of the change from the Impeachment to the Bill was "to prevent the hearing of the Earl's lawyers, who give out that there is no law yet in force whereby he can be condemned to die for aught yet objected against him, and therefore their intent by this Bill to supply the defect of the laws therein." To this may be added the opinion of a member of the Commons. "If the House of Commons proceeds to demand judgment of the Lords, without doubt they will acquit him, there being no law extant whereby to condemn him of treason.159 Wherefore the Commons are determined to desert the Lord's judicature, and to proceed against him by Bill of Attainder, whereby he shall be adjudged to death upon a treason now to be declared."

One of the chief results in this change of procedure, emphasized by Browning in an intense scene between Pym and Charles was that it altered entirely the King's attitude towards Strafford's trial. As Baillie expresses it, "Had the Commons gone on in the former way of pursuit, the King might have been a patient, and only beheld the striking off of Strafford's head; but now they have put them on a Bill which will force the King either to be our agent and formal voicer to his death, or else do the world knows not what."

For the sake of a gain in dramatic power, Browning has once more departed from history by making Pym the moving power in the Bill of Attainder, and Hampden in favor of it; while in reality they were opposed to the change in procedure, and believed that the Impeachment could have been carried through.

The relentless, scourging force of Pym in the play, pursuing the arch-foe of England as he regarded Wentworth to the death, once he is convinced that England's welfare demands160 it, would have been weakened had he been represented in favor of the policy which was abandoned, instead of with the policy that succeeded. But Pym is made to intimate that he will abandon the Bill unless the King gives his word that he will ratify it, and further, Pym declares, should he not ratify the Bill his next step will be against the King himself.

Enter Hampden and Vane.

Vane. O Hampden, save the great misguided man!
Plead Strafford's cause with Pym! I have remarked
He moved no muscle when we all declaimed
Against him: you had but to breathe—he turned
Those kind calm eyes upon you.

[Enter Pym, the Solicitor-General St. John, the Managers of the Trial, Fiennes, Rudyard, etc.

Rudyard.Horrible!
Till now all hearts were with you: I withdraw
For one. Too horrible! But we mistake
Your purpose, Pym: you cannot snatch away
The last spar from the drowning man.

Fiennes.He talks
With St. John of it—see, how quietly!
[To other Presbyterians.] You'll join us? Strafford may deserve the worst:
But this new course is monstrous. Vane, take heart!
This Bill of his Attainder shall not have
One true man's hand to it.

Vane.Consider, Pym!
Confront your Bill, your own Bill: what is it?
You cannot catch the Earl on any charge,—
161No man will say the law has hold of him
On any charge; and therefore you resolve
To take the general sense on his desert,
As though no law existed, and we met
To found one. You refer to Parliament
To speak its thought upon the abortive mass
Of half-borne-out assertions, dubious hints
Hereafter to be cleared, distortions—ay,
And wild inventions. Every man is saved
The task of fixing any single charge
On Strafford: he has but to see in him
The enemy of England.

Pym.A right scruple!
I have heard some called England's enemy
With less consideration.

Vane.Pity me!
Indeed you made me think I was your friend!
I who have murdered Strafford, how remove
That memory from me?

Pym.I absolve you, Vane.
Take you no care for aught that you have done!

Vane. John Hampden, not this Bill! Reject this Bill!
He staggers through the ordeal: let him go,
Strew no fresh fire before him! Plead for us!
When Strafford spoke, your eyes were thick with tears!

Hampden. England speaks louder: who are we, to play
The generous pardoner at her expense,
Magnanimously waive advantages,
And, if he conquer us, applaud his skill?

Vane. He was your friend.

Pym.I have heard that before.

Fiennes. And England trusts you.

Hampden.Shame be his, who turns
The opportunity of serving her
162She trusts him with, to his own mean account—
Who would look nobly frank at her expense!

Fiennes. I never thought it could have come to this.

Pym. But I have made myself familiar, Fiennes,
With this one thought—have walked, and sat, and slept,
This thought before me. I have done such things,
Being the chosen man that should destroy
The traitor. You have taken up this thought
To play with, for a gentle stimulant,
To give a dignity to idler life
By the dim prospect of emprise to come,
But ever with the softening, sure belief,
That all would end some strange way right at last.

Fiennes. Had we made out some weightier charge!

Pym.You say
That these are petty charges: can we come
To the real charge at all? There he is safe
In tyranny's stronghold. Apostasy
Is not a crime, treachery not a crime:
The cheek burns, the blood tingles, when you speak
The words, but where's the power to take revenge
Upon them? We must make occasion serve,—
The oversight shall pay for the main sin
That mocks us.

Rudyard.But his unexampled course,
This Bill!

Pym.By this, we roll the clouds away
Of precedent and custom, and at once
Bid the great beacon-light God sets in all,
The conscience of each bosom, shine upon
The guilt of Strafford: each man lay his hand
Upon his breast, and judge!

Vane.I only see
Strafford, nor pass his corpse for all beyond!

163Rudyard and others. Forgive him! He would join us, now he finds
What the King counts reward! The pardon, too,
Should be your own. Yourself should bear to Strafford
The pardon of the Commons.

Pym.Meet him? Strafford?
Have we to meet once more, then? Be it so!
And yet—the prophecy seemed half fulfilled
When, at the Trial, as he gazed, my youth,
Our friendship, divers thoughts came back at once
And left me, for a time.... 'Tis very sad!
To-morrow we discuss the points of law
With Lane—to-morrow?

Vane.Not before to-morrow—
So, time enough! I knew you would relent!

Pym. The next day, Haselrig, you introduce
The Bill of his Attainder. Pray for me!

Scene III.Whitehall.

The King.

Charles. My loyal servant! To defend himself
Thus irresistibly,—withholding aught
That seemed to implicate us!
We have done
Less gallantly by Strafford. Well, the future
Must recompense the past.
She tarries long.
I understand you, Strafford, now!
The scheme—
Carlisle's mad scheme—he'll sanction it, I fear,
For love of me. 'Twas too precipitate:
Before the army's fairly on its march,
He'll be at large: no matter.
Well, Carlisle?

164 Enter Pym.

Pym. Fear me not, sir:—my mission is to save,
This time.

Charles.To break thus on me! Unannounced!

Pym. It is of Strafford I would speak.

Charles.No more
Of Strafford! I have heard too much from you.

Pym. I spoke, sir, for the People; will you hear
A word upon my own account?

Charles.Of Strafford?
(So turns the tide already? Have we tamed
The insolent brawler?—Strafford's eloquence
Is swift in its effect.) Lord Strafford, sir,
Has spoken for himself.

Pym.Sufficiently.
I would apprise you of the novel course
The People take: the Trial fails.

Charles.Yes, yes:
We are aware, sir: for your part in it
Means shall be found to thank you.

Pym.Pray you, read
This schedule! I would learn from your own mouth
—(It is a matter much concerning me)—
Whether, if two Estates of us concede
The death of Strafford, on the grounds set forth
Within that parchment, you, sir, can resolve
To grant your own consent to it. This Bill
Is framed by me. If you determine, sir,
That England's manifested will should guide
Your judgment, ere another week such will
Shall manifest itself. If not,—I cast
Aside the measure.

Charles.You can hinder, then,
The introduction of this Bill?

165Pym.I can.

Charles. He is my friend, sir: I have wronged him: mark you,
Had I not wronged him, this might be. You think
Because you hate the Earl ... (turn not away,
We know you hate him)—no one else could love
Strafford: but he has saved me, some affirm.
Think of his pride! And do you know one strange,
One frightful thing? We all have used the man
As though a drudge of ours, with not a source
Of happy thoughts except in us; and yet
Strafford has wife and children, household cares,
Just as if we had never been. Ah sir,
You are moved, even you, a solitary man
Wed to your cause—to England if you will!

Pym. Yes—think, my soul—to England! Draw not back!

Charles. Prevent that Bill, sir! All your course seems fair
Till now. Why, in the end, 'tis I should sign
The warrant for his death! You have said much
I ponder on; I never meant, indeed,
Strafford should serve me any more. I take
The Commons' counsel; but this Bill is yours—
Nor worthy of its leader: care not, sir,
For that, however! I will quite forget
You named it to me. You are satisfied?

Pym. Listen to me, sir! Eliot laid his hand,
Wasted and white, upon my forehead once;
Wentworth—he's gone now!—has talked on, whole nights,
And I beside him; Hampden loves me: sir,
How can I breathe and not wish England well,
And her King well?

Charles.I thank you, sir, who leave
166That King his servant. Thanks, sir!

Pym.Let me speak!
—Who may not speak again; whose spirit yearns
For a cool night after this weary day:
—Who would not have my soul turn sicker yet
In a new task, more fatal, more august,
More full of England's utter weal or woe.
I thought, sir, could I find myself with you,
After this trial, alone, as man to man—
I might say something, warn you, pray you, save—
Mark me, King Charles, save——you!
But God must do it. Yet I warn you, sir—
(With Strafford's faded eyes yet full on me)
As you would have no deeper question moved
—"How long the Many must endure the One,"
Assure me, sir, if England give assent
To Strafford's death, you will not interfere!
Or——

Charles. God forsakes me. I am in a net
And cannot move. Let all be as you say!

Enter Lady Carlisle.

Lady Carlisle. He loves you—looking beautiful with joy
Because you sent me! he would spare you all
The pain! he never dreamed you would forsake
Your servant in the evil day—nay, see
Your scheme returned! That generous heart of his!
He needs it not—or, needing it, disdains
A course that might endanger you—you, sir,
Whom Strafford from his inmost soul....
[Seeing Pym.]Well met!
No fear for Strafford! All that's true and brave
On your own side shall help us: we are now
Stronger than ever.
167 Ha—what, sir, is this?
All is not well! What parchment have you there?

Pym. Sir, much is saved us both.

Lady Carlisle.This Bill! Your lip
Whitens—you could not read one line to me
Your voice would falter so!

Pym.No recreant yet!
The great word went from England to my soul,
And I arose. The end is very near.

Lady Carlisle. I am to save him! All have shrunk beside;
'Tis only I am left. Heaven will make strong
The hand now as the heart. Then let both die!

In the last act Browning has drawn upon his imagination more than in any other part of the play. Strafford in prison in the Tower is the center around which all the other elements of the drama are made to revolve. A glimpse, the first, of the man in a purely human capacity is given in the second scene with Strafford and his children. From all accounts little Anne was a precocious child and Browning has sketched her accordingly. The scene is like a gleam of sunshine in the gathering gloom.

The genuine grief felt by the historical Charles over the part he played in the ruin of Strafford is brought out in an interview between Strafford and Charles, who is represented as coming disguised to the prison. Strafford who has been hoping for pardon168 from the King learns from Hollis, in the King's presence, that the King has signed his death warrant. He receives this shock with the remark which history attributes to him.

History tells us of two efforts to rescue Strafford. One of these was an attempt to bribe Balfour to allow him to escape from the tower. This hint the Poet has worked up into the episode of Charles, calling Balfour and begging him to go at once to Parliament, to say he will grant all demands, and that he chooses to pardon Strafford. History, however, does not say that Lady Carlisle was implicated in any plan for the rescue of Strafford, of which Browning makes so much. According to Gardiner, she was by this time bestowing her favors upon Pym. Devotion to the truth here on Browning's part would have completely ruined the inner unity of the play. Carlisle, the woman ready to devote herself to Strafford's utmost need, while Strafford is more or less indifferent to her is the artistic compliment of Strafford the man devoted to the unresponsive King. The failure of the escape through Pym's intervention is a169 final dramatic climax bringing face to face not so much the two individual men as the two principles of government for which England was warring, the Monarchical and the Parliamentary. To the last, Strafford is loyal to the King and the Kingly idea, while Pym crushing his human feelings under foot, calmly contemplates the sacrifice not only of Strafford, but even of the King, if England's need demand it.

In this supreme moment of agony when Strafford and Pym meet face to face both men are made to realize an abiding love for each other beneath all their earthly differences. "A great poet of our own day," writes Gardiner, "clothing the reconciling spirit of the nineteenth century in words which never could have been spoken in the seventeenth, has breathed a high wish. On his page an imaginary Pym, recalling an imaginary friendship, looks forward hopefully to a reunion in a better and brighter world."

Scene II.The Tower.

Strafford sitting with his Children. They sing.

O bell 'andare
Per barca in mare,
Verso la sera
Di Primavera!

170 William. The boat's in the broad moonlight all this while—

Verso la sera
Di Primavera!

And the boat shoots from underneath the moon
Into the shadowy distance; only still
You hear the dipping oar—

Verso la sera,

And faint, and fainter, and then all's quite gone,
Music and light and all, like a lost star.

Anne. But you should sleep, father; you were to sleep.

Strafford. I do sleep, Anne; or if not—you must know
There's such a thing as....

William.You're too tired to sleep?

Strafford. It will come by-and-by and all day long,
In that old quiet house I told you of:
We sleep safe there.

Anne.Why not in Ireland?

Strafford.No!
Too many dreams!—That song's for Venice, William:
You know how Venice looks upon the map—
Isles that the mainland hardly can let go?

William. You've been to Venice, father?

Strafford.I was young, then.

William. A city with no King; that's why I like
Even a song that comes from Venice.

Strafford.William!

William. Oh, I know why! Anne, do you love the King?
But I'll see Venice for myself one day.

Strafford. See many lands, boy—England last of all,—
That way you'll love her best.

The Tower, London

171William.Why do men say
You sought to ruin her then?

Strafford.Ah,—they say that.

William. Why?

Strafford.I suppose they must have words to say,
As you to sing.

Anne.But they make songs beside:
Last night I heard one, in the street beneath,
That called you.... Oh, the names!

William.Don't mind her, father!
They soon left off when I cried out to them.

Strafford. We shall so soon be out of it, my boy!
'Tis not worth while: who heeds a foolish song?

William. Why, not the King.

Strafford.Well: it has been the fate
Of better; and yet,—wherefore not feel sure
That Time, who in the twilight comes to mend
All the fantastic day's caprice, consign
To the low ground once more the ignoble Term,
And raise the Genius on his orb again,—
That Time will do me right?

Anne.(Shall we sing, William?
He does not look thus when we sing.)

Strafford.For Ireland,
Something is done: too little, but enough
To show what might have been.

William.(I have no heart
To sing now! Anne, how very sad he looks!
Oh, I so hate the King for all he says!)

Strafford. Forsook them! What, the common songs will run
That I forsook the People? Nothing more?
Ay, Fame, the busy scribe, will pause, no doubt,
Turning a deaf ear to her thousand slaves
172Noisy to be enrolled,—will register
The curious glosses, subtle notices,
Ingenious clearings-up one fain would see
Beside that plain inscription of The Name—
The Patriot Pym, or the Apostate Strafford!

[The Children resume their song timidly, but break off.

Enter Hollis and an Attendant.

Strafford. No,—Hollis? in good time!—Who is he?

Hollis.One
That must be present.

Strafford.Ah—I understand.
They will not let me see poor Laud alone.
How politic! They'd use me by degrees
To solitude: and, just as you came in,
I was solicitous what life to lead
When Strafford's "not so much as Constable
In the King's service." Is there any means
To keep oneself awake? What would you do
After this bustle, Hollis, in my place?

Hollis. Strafford!

Strafford.Observe, not but that Pym and you
Will find me news enough—news I shall hear
Under a quince-tree by a fish-pond side
At Wentworth. Garrard must be re-engaged
My newsman. Or, a better project now—
What if when all's consummated, and the Saints
Reign, and the Senate's work goes swimmingly,—
What if I venture up, some day, unseen,
To saunter through the Town, notice how Pym,
Your Tribune, likes Whitehall, drop quietly
Into a tavern, hear a point discussed,
As, whether Strafford's name were John or James—
And be myself appealed to—I, who shall
173Myself have near forgotten!

Hollis.I would speak....

Strafford. Then you shall speak,—not now. I want just now,
To hear the sound of my own tongue. This place
Is full of ghosts.

Hollis.Nay, you must hear me, Strafford!

Strafford. Oh, readily! Only, one rare thing more,—
The minister! Who will advise the King,
Turn his Sejanus, Richelieu and what not,
And yet have health—children, for aught I know—
My patient pair of traitors! Ah,—but, William—
Does not his cheek grow thin?

William.'Tis you look thin, Father!

Strafford. A scamper o'er the breezy wolds
Sets all to-rights.

Hollis.You cannot sure forget
A prison-roof is o'er you, Strafford?

Strafford.No,
Why, no. I would not touch on that, the first.
I left you that. Well, Hollis? Say at once,
The King can find no time to set me free!
A mask at Theobald's?

Hollis.Hold: no such affair
Detains him.

Strafford.True: what needs so great a matter?
The Queen's lip may be sore. Well: when he pleases,—
Only, I want the air: it vexes flesh
To be pent up so long.

Hollis.The King—I bear
His message, Strafford: pray you, let me speak!

Strafford. Go, William! Anne, try o'er your song again!

[The Children retire.

174They shall be loyal, friend, at all events.
I know your message: you have nothing new
To tell me: from the first I guessed as much.
I know, instead of coming here himself,
Leading me forth in public by the hand,
The King prefers to leave the door ajar
As though I were escaping—bids me trudge
While the mob gapes upon some show prepared
On the other side of the river! Give at once
His order of release! I've heard, as well
Of certain poor manoeuvres to avoid
The granting pardon at his proper risk;
First, he must prattle somewhat to the Lords,
Must talk a trifle with the Commons first,
Be grieved I should abuse his confidence,
And far from blaming them, and.... Where's the order?

Hollis. Spare me!

Strafford.Why, he'd not have me steal away?
With an old doublet and a steeple hat
Like Prynne's? Be smuggled into France, perhaps?
Hollis, 'tis for my children! 'Twas for them
I first consented to stand day by day
And give your Puritans the best of words,
Be patient, speak when called upon, observe
Their rules, and not return them prompt their lie!
What's in that boy of mine that he should prove
Son to a prison-breaker? I shall stay
And he'll stay with me. Charles should know as much,
He too has children!
[Turning to Hollis's Companion.] Sir, you feel for me!
No need to hide that face! Though it have looked
Upon me from the judgment-seat ... I know
Strangely, that somewhere it has looked on me, ...
Your coming has my pardon, nay, my thanks:
For there is one who comes not.

175Hollis.Whom forgive,
As one to die!

Strafford.True, all die, and all need
Forgiveness: I forgive him from my soul.

Hollis. 'Tis a world's wonder: Strafford, you must die!

Strafford. Sir, if your errand is to set me free
This heartless jest mars much. Ha! Tears in truth?
We'll end this! See this paper, warm—feel—warm
With lying next my heart! Whose hand is there?
Whose promise? Read, and loud for God to hear!
"Strafford shall take no hurt"—read it, I say!
"In person, honor, nor estate"—

Hollis.The King....

Strafford. I could unking him by a breath! You sit
Where Loudon sat, who came to prophesy
The certain end, and offer me Pym's grace
If I'd renounce the King: and I stood firm
On the King's faith. The King who lives....

Hollis.To sign
The warrant for your death.

Strafford."Put not your trust
In princes, neither in the sons of men,
In whom is no salvation!"

Hollis.Trust in God!
The scaffold is prepared: they wait for you:
He has consented. Cast the earth behind!

Charles. You would not see me, Strafford, at your foot!
It was wrung from me! Only, curse me not!

Hollis [to Strafford]. As you hope grace and pardon in your need,
Be merciful to this most wretched man.

[Voices from within.

Verso la sera
Di Primavera

176Strafford. You'll be good to those children, sir? I know
You'll not believe her, even should the Queen
Think they take after one they rarely saw.
I had intended that my son should live
A stranger to these matters: but you are
So utterly deprived of friends! He too
Must serve you—will you not be good to him?
Or, stay, sir, do not promise—do not swear!
You, Hollis—do the best you can for me!
I've not a soul to trust to: Wandesford's dead,
And you've got Radcliffe safe, Laud's turn comes next:
I've found small time of late for my affairs,
But I trust any of you, Pym himself—
No one could hurt them: there's an infant, too.
These tedious cares! Your Majesty could spare them.
Nay—pardon me, my King! I had forgotten
Your education, trials, much temptation,
Some weakness: there escaped a peevish word—
'Tis gone: I bless you at the last. You know
All's between you and me: what has the world
To do with it? Farewell!

Charles [at the door]. Balfour! Balfour!

Enter Balfour.

The Parliament!—go to them: I grant all
Demands. Their sittings shall be permanent:
Tell them to keep their money if they will:
I'll come to them for every coat I wear
And every crust I eat: only I choose
To pardon Strafford. As the Queen shall choose!
—You never heard the People howl for blood,
Beside!

Balfour. Your Majesty may hear them now:
The walls can hardly keep their murmurs out:
177Please you retire!

Charles.Take all the troops, Balfour!

Balfour. There are some hundred thousand of the crowd.

Charles. Come with me, Strafford! You'll not fear, at least!

Strafford. Balfour, say nothing to the world of this!
I charge you, as a dying man, forget
You gazed upon this agony of one ...
Of one ... or if ... why you may say, Balfour,
The King was sorry: 'tis no shame in him:
Yes, you may say he even wept, Balfour,
And that I walked the lighter to the block
Because of it. I shall walk lightly, sir!
Earth fades, heaven breaks on me: I shall stand next
Before God's throne: the moment's close at hand
When man the first, last time, has leave to lay
His whole heart bare before its Maker, leave
To clear up the long error of a life
And choose one happiness for evermore.
With all mortality about me, Charles,
The sudden wreck, the dregs of violent death—
What if, despite the opening angel-song,
There penetrate one prayer for you? Be saved
Through me! Bear witness, no one could prevent
My death! Lead on! ere he awake—best, now!
All must be ready: did you say, Balfour,
The crowd began to murmur? They'll be kept
Too late for sermon at St. Antholin's!
Now! But tread softly—children are at play
In the next room. Precede! I follow—

Enter Lady Carlisle with many Attendants.

Lady Carlisle.Me!
Follow me, Strafford, and be saved! The King?
178[To the King.] Well—as you ordered, they are ranged without,
The convoy.... [seeing the King's state.]
[To Strafford.] You know all, then! Why I thought
It looked best that the King should save you,—Charles
Alone; 'tis a shame that you should owe me aught.
Or no, not shame! Strafford, you'll not feel shame
At being saved by me?

Hollis.All true! Oh Strafford,
She saves you! all her deed! this lady's deed!
And is the boat in readiness? You, friend,
Are Billingsley, no doubt. Speak to her, Strafford!
See how she trembles, waiting for your voice!
The world's to learn its bravest story yet.

Lady Carlisle. Talk afterward! Long nights in France enough,
To sit beneath the vines and talk of home.

Strafford. You love me, child? Ah, Strafford can be loved
As well as Vane! I could escape, then?

Lady Carlisle.Haste!
Advance the torches, Bryan!

Strafford.I will die.
They call me proud: but England had no right,
When she encountered me—her strength to mine—
To find the chosen foe a craven. Girl,
I fought her to the utterance, I fell,
I am hers now, and I will die. Beside,
The lookers-on! Eliot is all about
This place, with his most uncomplaining brow.

Lady Carlisle. Strafford!

Strafford.I think if you could know how much
I love you, you would be repaid, my friend!

Lady Carlisle. Then, for my sake!

179Strafford.Even for your sweet sake,
I stay.

Hollis. For their sake!

Strafford.To bequeath a stain?
Leave me! Girl, humor me and let me die!

Lady Carlisle. Bid him escape—wake, King! Bid him escape!

Strafford. True, I will go! Die, and forsake the King?
I'll not draw back from the last service.

Lady Carlisle. Strafford!

Strafford.And, after all, what is disgrace to me?
Let us come, child! That it should end this way!
Lead them! but I feel strangely: it was not
To end this way.

Lady Carlisle. Lean—lean on me!

Strafford.My King!
Oh, had he trusted me—his friend of friends!

Lady Carlisle. I can support him, Hollis!

Strafford.Not this way!
This gate—I dreamed of it, this very gate.

Lady Carlisle. It opens on the river: our good boat
Is moored below, our friends are there.

Strafford.The same:
Only with something ominous and dark,
Fatal, inevitable.

Lady Carlisle.Strafford! Strafford!

Strafford. Not by this gate! I feel what will be there!
I dreamed of it, I tell you: touch it not!

Lady Carlisle. To save the King,—Strafford, to save the King!

[As Strafford opens the door, Pym is discovered with Hampden, Vane, etc. Strafford falls back; Pym follows slowly and confronts him.

180Pym. Have I done well? Speak, England! Whose sole sake
I still have labored for, with disregard
To my own heart,—for whom my youth was made
Barren, my manhood waste, to offer up
Her sacrifice—this friend, this Wentworth here—
Who walked in youth with me, loved me, it may be,
And whom, for his forsaking England's cause,
I hunted by all means (trusting that she
Would sanctify all means) even to the block
Which waits for him. And saying this, I feel
No bitterer pang than first I felt, the hour
I swore that Wentworth might leave us, but I
Would never leave him: I do leave him now.
I render up my charge (be witness, God!)
To England who imposed it. I have done
Her bidding—poorly, wrongly,—it may be,
With ill effects—for I am weak, a man:
Still, I have done my best, my human best,
Not faltering for a moment. It is done.
And this said, if I say ... yes, I will say
I never loved but one man—David not
More Jonathan! Even thus, I love him now:
And look for my chief portion in that world
Where great hearts led astray are turned again,
(Soon it may be, and, certes, will be soon:
My mission over, I shall not live long,)—
Ay, here I know I talk—I dare and must,
Of England, and her great reward, as all
I look for there; but in my inmost heart,
Believe, I think of stealing quite away
To walk once more with Wentworth—my youth's friend
Purged from all error, gloriously renewed,
And Eliot shall not blame us. Then indeed....
181This is no meeting, Wentworth! Tears increase
Too hot. A thin mist—is it blood?—enwraps
The face I loved once. Then, the meeting be!

Strafford. I have loved England too; we'll meet then, Pym.
As well die now! Youth is the only time
To think and to decide on a great course:
Manhood with action follows; but 'tis dreary,
To have to alter our whole life in age—
The time past, the strength gone! As well die now.
When we meet, Pym, I'd be set right—not now!
Best die. Then if there's any fault, fault too
Dies, smothered up. Poor grey old little Laud
May dream his dream out, of a perfect Church,
In some blind corner. And there's no one left.
I trust the King now wholly to you, Pym!
And yet, I know not: I shall not be there:
Friends fail—if he have any. And he's weak,
And loves the Queen, and.... Oh, my fate is nothing—
Nothing! But not that awful head—not that!

Pym. If England shall declare such will to me....

Strafford. Pym, you help England! I, that am to die,
What I must see! 'tis here—all here! My God,
Let me but gasp out, in one word of fire,
How thou wilt plague him, satiating hell!
What? England that you help, become through you
A green and putrefying charnel, left
Our children ... some of us have children, Pym—
Some who, without that, still must ever wear
A darkened brow, an over-serious look,
And never properly be young! No word?
What if I curse you? Send a strong curse forth
Clothed from my heart, lapped round with horror till
She's fit with her white face to walk the world
Scaring kind natures from your cause and you—
182Then to sit down with you at the board-head,
The gathering for prayer.... O speak, but speak!
... Creep up, and quietly follow each one home,
You, you, you, be a nestling care for each
To sleep with,—hardly moaning in his dreams.
She gnaws so quietly,—till, lo he starts,
Gets off with half a heart eaten away!
Oh, shall you 'scape with less if she's my child?
You will not say a word—to me—to Him?

Pym. If England shall declare such will to me....

Strafford. No, not for England now, not for Heaven now,—
See, Pym, for my sake, mine who kneel to you!
There, I will thank you for the death, my friend!
This is the meeting: let me love you well!

Pym. England,—I am thine own! Dost thou exact
That service? I obey thee to the end.

Strafford. O God, I shall die first—I shall die first!


A lively picture of Cavalier sentiment is given in the "Cavalier Tunes"—which ought to furnish conclusive proof that Browning does not always put himself into his work. They may be compared with the words set to Avison's march given in the last chapter which presents just as sympathetically "Roundhead" sentiment.

I. MARCHING ALONG

I

Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King,
Bidding the crop-headed Parliament swing:
183 And, pressing a troop unable to stoop
And see the rogues flourish and honest folk droop,
Marched them along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.

The Tower: Traitors' Gate

II

God for King Charles! Pym and such carles
To the Devil that prompts 'em their treasonous parles!
Cavaliers, up! Lips from the cup,
Hands from the pasty, nor bite take nor sup
Till you're—
Chorus.Marching along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.

III

Hampden to hell, and his obsequies' knell
Serve Hazelrig, Fiennes, and young Harry as well!
England, good cheer! Rupert is near!
Kentish and loyalists, keep we not here
Chorus.Marching along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song?

IV

Then, God for King Charles! Pym and his snarls
To the Devil that pricks on such pestilent carles!
Hold by the right, you double your might;
So, onward to Nottingham, fresh for the fight,
Chorus.March we along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song!

184

II. GIVE A ROUSE

I

King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: here's, in hell's despite now,
King Charles!

II

Who gave me the goods that went since?
Who raised me the house that sank once?
Who helped me to gold I spent since?
Who found me in wine you drank once?
Chorus.King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: here's, in hell's despite now,
King Charles!

III

To whom used my boy George quaff else,
By the old fool's side that begot him?
For whom did he cheer and laugh else,
While Noll's damned troopers shot him?
Chorus.King Charles, and who'll do him right now?
King Charles, and who's ripe for fight now?
Give a rouse: here's, in hell's despite now,
King Charles!

185

III. BOOT AND SADDLE

I

Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!
Rescue my castle before the hot day
Brightens to blue from its silvery grey,
Chorus.—"Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"

II

Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you'd say;
Many's the friend there, will listen and pray
"God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay—"
Chorus.—"Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"

III

Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay,
Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads' array:
Who laughs, "Good fellows ere this, by my fay,"
Chorus.—"Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"

IV

Who? My wife Gertrude; that, honest and gay,
Laughs when you talk of surrendering, "Nay!
I've better counsellors; what counsel they?"
Chorus.—"Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!"

Though not illustrative of the subject in hand, "Martin Relph" is included here on account of the glimpse it gives of an episode, interesting in English History, though devoid of serious consequences, since it marked the final abortive struggle of a dying cause.

186 An imaginary incident of the rebellion in the time of George II., forms the background of "Martin Relph," the point of the story being the life-long agony of reproach suffered by Martin who let his envy and jealousy conquer him at a crucial moment. The history of the attempt of Charles Edward to get back the crown of England, supported by a few thousand Highlanders, of his final defeat at the Battle of Culloden, and of the decay henceforth of Jacobitism, needs no telling. The treatment of spies as herein shown is a common-place of war-times, but that a reprieve exonerating the accused should be prevented from reaching its destination in time through the jealousy of the only person who saw it coming gives the episode a tragic touch lifting it into an atmosphere of peculiar individual pathos.

MARTIN RELPH

My grandfather says he remembers he saw, when a youngster long ago,
On a bright May day, a strange old man, with a beard as white as snow,
Stand on the hill outside our town like a monument of woe,
And, striking his bare bald head the while, sob out the reason—so!
If I last as long at Methuselah I shall never forgive myself:
But—God forgive me, that I pray, unhappy Martin Relph,
187As coward, coward I call him—him, yes, him! Away from me!
Get you behind the man I am now, you man that I used to be!
What can have sewed my mouth up, set me a-stare, all eyes, no tongue?
People have urged "You visit a scare too hard on a lad so young!
You were taken aback, poor boy," they urge, "no time to regain your wits:
Besides it had maybe cost you life." Ay, there is the cap which fits!
So, cap me, the coward,—thus! No fear! A cuff on the brow does good:
The feel of it hinders a worm inside which bores at the brain for food.
See now, there certainly seems excuse: for a moment, I trust, dear friends,
The fault was but folly, no fault of mine, or if mine, I have made amends!
For, every day that is first of May, on the hill-top, here stand I,
Martin Relph, and I strike my brow, and publish the reason why,
When there gathers a crowd to mock the fool. No fool, friends, since the bite
Of a worm inside is worse to bear: pray God I have balked him quite!
I'll tell you. Certainly much excuse! It came of the way they cooped
Us peasantry up in a ring just here, close huddling because tight-hooped
188By the red-coats round us villagers all: they meant we should see the sight
And take the example,—see, not speak, for speech was the Captain's right.
"You clowns on the slope, beware!" cried he: "This woman about to die
Gives by her fate fair warning to such acquaintance as play the spy.
Henceforth who meddle with matters of state above them perhaps will learn
That peasants should stick to their plough-tail, leave to the King the King's concern.
"Here's a quarrel that sets the land on fire, between King George and his foes:
What call has a man of your kind—much less, a woman—to interpose?
Yet you needs must be meddling, folk like you, not foes—so much the worse!
The many and loyal should keep themselves unmixed with the few perverse.
"Is the counsel hard to follow? I gave it you plainly a month ago,
And where was the good? The rebels have learned just all that they need to know.
Not a month since in we quietly marched: a week, and they had the news,
From a list complete of our rank and file to a note of our caps and shoes.
"All about all we did and all we were doing and like to do!
Only, I catch a letter by luck, and capture who wrote it, too.
189Some of you men look black enough, but the milk-white face demure
Betokens the finger foul with ink: 'tis a woman who writes, be sure!
"Is it 'Dearie, how much I miss your mouth!'—good natural stuff, she pens?
Some sprinkle of that, for a blind, of course: with talk about cocks and hens,
How 'robin has built on the apple-tree, and our creeper which came to grief
Through the frost, we feared, is twining afresh round casement in famous leaf.'
"But all for a blind! She soon glides frank into 'Horrid the place is grown
With Officers here and Privates there, no nook we may call our own:
And Farmer Giles has a tribe to house, and lodging will be to seek
For the second Company sure to come ('tis whispered) on Monday week.'
"And so to the end of the chapter! There! The murder you see, was out:
Easy to guess how the change of mind in the rebels was brought about!
Safe in the trap would they now lie snug, had treachery made no sign:
But treachery meets a just reward, no matter if fools malign!
"That traitors had played us false, was proved—sent news which fell so pat:
And the murder was out—this letter of love, the sender of this sent that!
190'Tis an ugly job, though, all the same—a hateful, to have to deal
With a case of the kind, when a woman's in fault: we soldiers need nerves of steel!
"So, I gave her a chance, despatched post-haste a message to Vincent Parkes
Whom she wrote to; easy to find he was, since one of the King's own clerks,
Ay, kept by the King's own gold in the town close by where the rebels camp:
A sort of a lawyer, just the man to betray our sort—the scamp!
"'If her writing is simple and honest and only the lover-like stuff it looks,
And if you yourself are a loyalist, nor down in the rebels' books,
Come quick,' said I, 'and in person prove you are each of you clear of crime,
Or martial law must take its course: this day next week's the time!'
"Next week is now: does he come? Not he! Clean gone, our clerk, in a trice!
He has left his sweetheart here in the lurch: no need of a warning twice!
His own neck free, but his partner's fast in the noose still, here she stands
To pay for her fault. 'Tis an ugly job: but soldiers obey commands.
"And hearken wherefore I make a speech! Should any acquaintance share
The folly that led to the fault that is now to be punished, let fools beware!
191 Look black, if you please, but keep hands white: and, above all else, keep wives—
Or sweethearts or what they may be—from ink! Not a word now, on your lives!"
Black? but the Pit's own pitch was white to the Captain's face—the brute
With the bloated cheeks and the bulgy nose and the bloodshot eyes to suit!
He was muddled with wine, they say: more like, he was out of his wits with fear;
He had but a handful of men, that's true,—a riot might cost him dear.
And all that time stood Rosamund Page, with pinioned arms and face
Bandaged about, on the turf marked out for the party's firing-place.
I hope she was wholly with God: I hope 'twas His angel stretched a hand
To steady her so, like the shape of stone you see in our church-aisle stand.
I hope there was no vain fancy pierced the bandage to vex her eyes,
No face within which she missed without, no questions and no replies—
"Why did you leave me to die?"—"Because...." Oh, fiends, too soon you grin
At merely a moment of hell, like that—such heaven as hell ended in!
Let mine end too! He gave the word, up went the guns in a line.
Those heaped on the hill were blind as dumb,—for, of all eyes, only mine
192 Looked over the heads of the foremost rank. Some fell on their knees in prayer,
Some sank to the earth, but all shut eyes, with a sole exception there.
That was myself, who had stolen up last, had sidled behind the group:
I am highest of all on the hill-top, there stand fixed while the others stoop!
From head to foot in a serpent's twine am I tightened: I touch ground?
No more than a gibbet's rigid corpse which the fetters rust around!
Can I speak, can I breathe, can I burst—aught else but see, see, only see?
And see I do—for there comes in sight—a man, it sure must be!—
Who staggeringly, stumblingly rises, falls, rises, at random flings his weight
On and on, anyhow onward—a man that's mad he arrives too late!
Else why does he wave a something white high-flourished above his head?
Why does not he call, cry,—curse the fool!—why throw up his arms instead?
O take his fist in your own face, fool! Why does not yourself shout "Stay!
Here's a man comes rushing, might and main, with something he's mad to say?"
And a minute, only a moment, to have hell-fire boil up in your brain,
193 And ere you can judge things right, choose heaven,—time's over, repentance vain!
They level: a volley, a smoke and the clearing of smoke: I see no more
Of the man smoke hid, nor his frantic arms, nor the something white he bore.
But stretched on the field, some half-mile off, is an object. Surely dumb,
Deaf, blind were we struck, that nobody heard, not one of us saw him come!
Has he fainted through fright? One may well believe! What is it he holds so fast?
Turn him over, examine the face! Heyday! What, Vincent Parkes at last?
Dead! dead as she, by the self-same shot: one bullet has ended both,
Her in the body and him in the soul. They laugh at our plighted troth.
"Till death us do part?" Till death us do join past parting—that sounds like
Betrothal indeed! O Vincent Parkes, what need has my fist to strike?
I helped you: thus were you dead and wed: one bound, and your soul reached hers!
There is clenched in your hand the thing, signed, sealed, the paper which plain avers
She is innocent, innocent, plain as print, with the King's Arms broad engraved:
No one can hear, but if any one high on the hill can see, she's saved!
194And torn his garb and bloody his lips with heart-break—plain it grew
How the week's delay had been brought about: each guess at the end proved true.
It was hard to get at the folk in power: such waste of time! and then
Such pleading and praying, with, all the while, his lamb in the lion's den!
And at length when he wrung their pardon out, no end to the stupid forms—
The license and leave: I make no doubt—what wonder if passion warms
The pulse in a man if you play with his heart?—he was something hasty in speech;
Anyhow, none would quicken the work: he had to beseech, beseech!
And the thing once signed, sealed, safe in his grasp,—what followed but fresh delays?
For the floods were out, he was forced to take such a roundabout of ways!
And 'twas "Halt there!" at every turn of the road, since he had to cross the thick
Of the red-coats: what did they care for him and his "Quick, for God's sake, quick!"
Horse? but he had one: had it how long? till the first knave smirked "You brag
Yourself a friend of the King's? then lend to a King's friend here your nag!"
Money to buy another? Why, piece by piece they plundered him still,
With their "Wait you must;—no help: if aught can help you, a guinea will!"
195And a borough there was—I forget the name—whose Mayor must have the bench
Of Justices ranged to clear a doubt: for "Vincent," thinks he, sounds French!
It well may have driven him daft, God knows! all man can certainly know
Is—rushing and falling and rising, at last he arrived in a horror—so!
When a word, cry, gasp, would have rescued both! Ay bite me! The worm begins
At his work once more. Had cowardice proved—that only—my sin of sins!
Friends, look you here! Suppose ... suppose.... But mad I am, needs must be!
Judas the Damned would never have dared such a sin as I dream! For, see!
Suppose I had sneakingly loved her myself, my wretched self, and dreamed
In the heart of me "She were better dead than happy and his!"—while gleamed
A light from hell as I spied the pair in a perfectest embrace,
He the savior and she the saved,—bliss born of the very murder-place!
No! Say I was scared, friends! Call me fool and coward, but nothing worse!
Jeer at the fool and gibe at the coward! 'Twas ever the coward's curse
That fear breeds fancies in such: such take their shadow for substance still,
—A fiend at their back. I liked poor Parkes,—loved Vincent, if you will!
196And her—why, I said "Good morrow" to her, "Good even," and nothing more:
The neighborly way! She was just to me as fifty had been before.
So, coward it is and coward shall be! There's a friend, now! Thanks! A drink
Of water I wanted: and now I can walk, get home by myself, I think.

This poem, on an incident in Clive's life, is also included on account of its English historical setting.

The remarkable career of Robert Clive cannot be gone into here. Suffice it to refresh one's memory with a few principal events of his life. He was born in Shopshire in 1725. He entered the service of the East India Company at eighteen and was sent to Madras. Here, on account of his falling into debt, and being in danger of losing his situation, he twice tried to shoot himself. The pistol failed to go off, however, and he became impressed with the idea that some great destiny was awaiting him. His feeling was fully realized as his subsequent career in India shows. At twenty-seven, when he returned to England he had made the English the first military power in India. On his return to India (1755-59) he took a further step and secured for the English a political197 supremacy. Finally, on his last visit, he crowned his earlier exploits by putting the English dominance on a sounder basis of integrity than it had before been.

The incident related in the poem by the old man, Browning heard from Mrs. Jameson, who had shortly before heard it from Macaulay at Lansdowne House. Macaulay mentions it in his essay: "Of his personal courage he had, while still a writer [clerk] given signal proof by a desperate duel with a military bully who was the terror of Fort St. David."

The old gentleman in the poem evidently mixed up his dates slightly, for he says this incident occurred when Clive was twenty-one, and he represents him as committing suicide twenty-five years afterwards. Clive was actually forty-nine when he took his own life.

CLIVE

211

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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