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.

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

_Lady Car._ Confides in you.

_Went._ Why? or, why now?--They have kind throats, the knaves! Shout for me--they!

_Lady Car._ You come so strangely soon: Yet we took measures to keep off the crowd-- Did they shout for you?

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

_Lady Car._ I said but few dared carp at you.

_Went._ 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 Car._ The King, dear Wentworth, purposes, I said, To grant you, in the face of all the Court ...

_Went._ 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 Car._ You professed You would be calm.

_Went._ 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 Car._ He does not Distrust you.

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

_Lady Car._ No, not the Queen: the party That poisons the Queen's ear, Savile and Holland.

_Went._ 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 Car._ Oh, there 's no charge, no precise charge; Only they sneer, make light of--one may say, Nibble at what you do.

_Went._ 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 Car._ You thought of me, Dear Wentworth?

_Went._ But go on! The party here!

_Lady Car._ They do not think your Irish government Of that surpassing value ...

_Went._ 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 Car._ So the Archbishop says.

_Went._ 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 Car._ Your profit in the Customs, Bristol says, Exceeds the due proportion: while the tax ...

_Went._ Enough! 't is too unworthy,--I am not So patient as I thought! What 's Pym about?

_Lady Car._ Pym?

_Went._ Pym and the People.

_Lady Car._ Oh, the Faction! Extinct--of no account: there 'll never be Another Parliament.

_Went._ 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 Car._ Just apprised that you arrive.

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

_Lady Car._ Because,-- He is now ... I think a Council 's sitting now About this Scots affair.

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

_Lady Car._ I should say ...

_Went._ 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 't is a secret) to my grave.

_Lady Car._ For life or death I am your own, dear friend! [_Goes out._

_Went._ 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._)

_Went._ I little thought of you just then.

_Pym._ No? I Think always of you, Wentworth.

_Went._ 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.

_Went._ 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!

_Went._ Sir, keep your jests for those who relish them! (Does he enjoy their confidence?) 'T is 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!

_Went._ 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?

_Went._ 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: 't is a trick I keep.

_Went._ 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?

_Went._ 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.

_Went._ 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.

_Went._ 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!

_Went._ Leave me!

_Pym._ My friend, Why should I leave you?

_Went._ 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.

_Went._ Sir, I am come ...

_Cha._ To see an old familiar--nay, 't is 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.

_Went._ Sir, trust me! but for this once, trust me, sir!

_Cha._ What can you mean?

_Went._ That you should trust me, sir! Oh--not for my sake! but 't is 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?

_Cha._ But rise, Wentworth!

_Went._ 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!

_Cha._ Have I not trusted you?

_Went._ 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!

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

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

_Cha._ You love me, Wentworth: rise!

_Went._ I can speak now. I have no right to hide the truth. 'T is I Can save you: only I. Sir, what must be?

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

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

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

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

_Cha._ He 'd not decide so far Until you joined us.

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

_Cha._ Pym should know.

_Went._ 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.

_Cha._ In truth?

_Went._ 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.

_Cha._ You would begin With Ireland?

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

_Cha._ 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!

_Went._ Say it all o'er again--but once again: The first was for the music: once again!

_Cha._ 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?

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

_Cha._ Ireland, The Parliament,--

_Went._ I may go when I will? --Now?

_Cha._ Are you tired so soon of us?

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

_Cha._ You said just now this was the only way.

_Went._ Sir, I will serve you!

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

_Went._ 'T is 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.

_Cha._ If they prove restive ...

_Went._ I shall be with you.

_Cha._ Ere they assemble?

_Went._ 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._

_Cha._ 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.

_Cha._ 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?

_Cha._ 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.

_Cha._ 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!

_Cha._ 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!

_Cha._ But, Henriette ...

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

_Cha._ But listen, sweet!

_Queen._ Let Wentworth listen--you confide in him!

_Cha._ 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 forever, And whose will then the blame be? See you not? Come, dearest!--look, the little fairy, now, That cannot reach my shoulder! Dearest, come!

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