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 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._)

_Another._ 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?

_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._

_Max._ 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 hindereth!

[_The doors open, and_ STRAFFORD _issues in the greatest disorder, and amid cries from within of_ "Void the House!"

_Straf._ 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?

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

_Straf._ What did you say?

_Max._ The Commons bid me ask your lordship's sword.

_Straf._ 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._

_Straf._ 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!

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

_Straf._ 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!" The 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._

* * * * *