University of Virginia Library

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. 'T was too precipitate:
Before the army's fairly on its march,
He'll be at large: no matter.
Well, Carlisle?

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?

Pym.
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, 't is 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
That 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.
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;
'T is only I am left. Heaven will make strong
The hand now as the heart. Then let both die!