Chapter 6

_+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? Besides, 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? Go 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! Extinct--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! I 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!

_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 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, And 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! Oh--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?

_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, And 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?

_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!

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 Parliament 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.

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 government, 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 upon 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 Who 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: Forget 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, Under 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....

_Strafford._ 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.

_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.

_Lady 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 Must 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 well 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."

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 the 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 influenced by Browning, the history having been written many years after the play.