SCENE II. _A passage adjoining Westminster Hall.

_Many groups of_ Spectators _of the Trial._ Officers _of the Court, etc._

_1st Spec._ More crowd than ever! Not know Hampden, man? That 's he, by Pym, Pym that is speaking now. No, truly, if you look so high you 'll see Little enough of either!

_2d Spec._ Stay: Pym's arm Points like a prophet's rod.

_3d Spec._ Ay, ay, we 've heard Some pretty speaking: yet the Earl escapes.

_4th Spec._ I fear it: just a foolish word or two About his children--and we see, forsooth, Not England's foe in Strafford, but the man Who, sick, half-blind ...

_2d Spec._ What 's that Pym's saying now Which makes the curtains flutter? look! A hand Clutches them. Ah! The King's hand!

_5th Spec._ I had thought Pym was not near so tall. What said he, friend?

_2d Spec._ "Nor is this way a novel way of blood," And the Earl turns as if to ... Look! look!

_Many Spectators._ There! What ails him? No--he rallies, see--goes on, And Strafford smiles. Strange!

_An Officer._ Haselrig!

_Many Spectators._ Friend? Friend?

_The Officer._ Lost, utterly lost: just when we looked for Pym To make a stand against the ill effects Of the Earl's speech! Is Haselrig without? Pym's message is to him.

_3d Spec._ Now, said I true? Will the Earl leave them yet at fault or no?

_1st Spec._ Never believe it, man! These notes of Vane's Ruin the Earl.

_5th Spec._ A brave end: not a whit Less firm, less Pym all over. Then, the trial Is closed. No--Strafford means to speak again?

_An Officer._ Stand back, there!

_5th Spec._ Why, the Earl is coming hither! Before the court breaks up! His brother, look,-- You 'd say he 'd deprecated some fierce act In Strafford's mind just now.

_An Officer._ Stand back, I say!

_2d Spec._ Who 's the veiled woman that he talks with?

_Many Spectators._ Hush-- The Earl! the Earl!

[_Enter_ STRAFFORD, SLINGSBY, _and other_ Secretaries, HOLLIS, Lady CARLISLE, MAXWELL, BALFOUR, _etc._ STRAFFORD _converses with_ Lady CARLISLE.

_Hol._ So near the end! Be patient-- Return!

_Straf._ [_To his_ Secretaries.] Here--anywhere--or, 't is freshest here! To spend one's April here, the blossom-month: Set it down here! [_They arrange a table, papers, etc._ So, Pym can quail, can cower Because I glance at him, yet more 's to do. What 's to be answered, Slingsby? Let us end! [_To_ Lady CARLISLE.] Child, I refuse his offer; whatsoe'er It be! Too late! Tell me no word of him! 'T is something, Hollis, I assure you that-- To stand, sick as you are, some eighteen days Fighting for life and fame against a pack Of very curs, that lie through thick and thin, Eat flesh and bread by wholesale, and can't say "Strafford" if it would take my life!

_Lady Car._ Be moved! Glance at the paper!

_Straf._ Already at my heels! Pym's faulting bloodhounds scent the track again. Peace, child! Now, Slingsby!

[Messengers _from_ LANE _and other of_ STRAFFORD'S Counsel _within the Hall are coming and going during the Scene._

_Straf._ [setting himself to write and dictate.] I shall beat you, Hollis! Do you know that? In spite of St. John's tricks, In spite of Pym--your Pym who shrank from me! Eliot would have contrived it otherwise. [_To a_ Messenger.] In truth? This slip, tell Lane, contains as much As I can call to mind about the matter. Eliot would have disdained ... [_Calling after the_ Messenger.] And Radcliffe, say, The only person who could answer Pym, Is safe in prison, just for that. Well, well! It had not been recorded in that case, I baffled you. [_To_ Lady CARLISLE.] Nay, child, why look so grieved? All 's gained without the King! You saw Pym quail? What shall I do when they acquit me, think you, But tranquilly resume my task as though Nothing had intervened since I proposed To call that traitor to account! Such tricks, Trust me, shall not be played a second time, Not even against Laud, with his gray hair-- Your good work, Hollis! Peace! To make amends, You, Lucy, shall be here when I impeach Pym and his fellows.

_Hol._ Wherefore not protest Against our whole proceeding, long ago? Why feel indignant now? Why stand this while Enduring patiently?

_Straf._ Child, I 'll tell you-- You, and not Pym--you, the slight graceful girl Tall for a flowering lily, and not Hollis-- Why I stood patient! I was fool enough To see the will of England in Pym's will; To fear, myself had wronged her, and to wait Her judgment: when, behold, in place of it ... [_To a_ Messenger _who whispers._] Tell Lane to answer no such question! Law,-- I grapple with their law! I 'm here to try My actions by their standard, not my own! Their law allowed that levy: what 's the rest To Pym, or Lane, any but God and me?

_Lady Car._ The King 's so weak! Secure this chance! 'T was Vane, Never forget, who furnished Pym the notes ...

_Straf._ Fit,--very fit, those precious notes of Vane, To close the Trial worthily! I feared Some spice of nobleness might linger yet And spoil the character of all the past. Vane eased me ... and I will go back and say As much--to Pym, to England! Follow me, I have a word to say! There, my defence Is done! Stay! why be proud? Why care to own My gladness, my surprise?--Nay, not surprise! Wherefore insist upon the little pride Of doing all myself, and sparing him The pain? Child, say the triumph is my King's! When Pym grew pale, and trembled, and sank down, One image was before me: could I fail? Child, care not for the past, so indistinct, Obscure--there 's nothing to forgive in it, 'T is so forgotten! From this day begins A new life, founded on a new belief In Charles.

_Hol._ In Charles? Rather believe in Pym! And here he comes in proof! Appeal to Pym! Say how unfair ...

_Straf._ To Pym? I would say nothing! I would not look upon Pym's face again.

_Lady Car._ Stay, let me have to think I pressed your hand! [STRAFFORD _and his_ Friends _go out._

(_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._

_Rud._ 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.

_Fien._ 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,-- No 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 make 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!

_Hamp._ 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.

_Fien._ And England trusts you.

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

_Fien._ 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.

_Fien._ 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.

_Rud._ But this 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!

_Rud. 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!