 | King Charles the First |  |
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ACT I.
SCENE I.
Enter Bishop Juxon and Duke of Richmond.JUXON.
Good Day, my Lord; if in a Time like this,
Aught that is fortunate or good can happen;
When Desolation, wedded to Despair,
Strides o'er the Land and marks her Way with Ruin:
Plenty is fled with Justice; Rage and Rapine
Have robb'd the widow'd Matron, England, quite,
And left her now no Dow'ry—but her Tears.
RICHMOND.
Is it then certain that the lawless Commons
Have form'd a Court of Justice (so they call it)
To bring the King to Trial?
JUXON.
'Tis most true:
And tho' the Lords refus'd to join the Bill,
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Whither at last will thy Impieties,
Thy daring Insolence extend, when Kings
Feel from a Subject-Hand the Scourge of Pow'r?
Where may an injur'd Monarch hope for Safety,
If he not find it in his Peoples Hearts?
RICHMOND.
O Naseby, Naseby! what a deadly Stroke
Was thy ill-fated Field to Royalty!
On thy Success depended Monarchy:
The Fate of Rebels and the Fate of Kings
Hung on thy Battle; but thou, faithless too,
Conspir'd with Faction to o'erthrow us all,
And bring to sight these more than bloody Times.
JUXON.
To-morrow does the black Tribunal sit;
When Majesty is cited to appear
Before his Tyrant-Subjects: O preposterous!
Is't not as bad as if these Rebel-Hands
Shou'd from their Seats tear forth the ruling Eyes,
Whose Watch directs the Body's Use and Safety?
RICHMOND.
It cannot be! 'Tis not in Cruelty
To think of spilling Royal Blood: Mercy sure,
And the pretended Justice of their Cause,
Will save 'em from the Weight of so much Guilt.
JUXON.
What added Guilt can that black Bosom feel,
That has shook off Allegiance to its King?
Whole Seas of common and of noble Blood
Will not suffice, the Banquet must be crown'd,
And the Brain heated with the Blood of Kings.
But see where Cromwell comes! Upon his Brow
Dissimulation stamp'd: If I can judge
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Can both contrive and execute, the worst,
And the most daring Actions yet conceiv'd.
Ambitious, bloody, resolute and wise;
He ne'er betrays his Meaning till he acts,
And ne'er looks out but with the Eye of Purpose:
His Head so cool, that it appears the Top
Of Alpine Hill, clad with slow wasting Snow;
His Execution rapid as the Force
Of falling Waters thund'ring down its Base.
Let us avoid him, for my conscious Soul
Fears him in Wonder, and in Praise condemns him.
[Exeunt.
Enter CROMWELL.
CROMWELL.
Now, thro' the Maze of gloomy Policy,
Has fire-ey'd Faction work'd her Way to Light,
And deck'd Ambition in the Robe of Power.
Our Fears in Charles's Safety are remov'd,
And but one Blow remains to fix our State—
The lopping off his Head. No more the Royal Tree
Shall, from Legitimacy's Root, presume
To sprout forth Tyrant Branches: Commonwealths
Own no hereditary Right, unless our Worth
Shine equal to our Birth: Wherefore at once
Down with Nobility—The Commons rule!
Avant Prerogative and Lineal Title,
And be the Right to rise superior Merit.
Enter FAIRFAX.
FAIRFAX.
I was to seek you, Sir, some lab'ring Doubts,
Which, in the Uncertainty of these strange Times,
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(Perhaps unseasonably) to your Ear.
You will forgive the Impatience of a Man,
Who labours to be right—by your Example.
CROMWELL.
Good Fairfax, spare me; I am ill at Words,
And utter badly where I mean Respect;
Uncouth my Answers are to Truth and Plainness,
But to a Compliment I ne'er cou'd speak:
Yet cou'd you look into my secret Mind,
There my Soul speaks to Fairfax, as to one
Book'd in the fairest Page of my Esteem,
And written on my Heart.—But to your Doubts.
FAIRFAX.
You may remember, Sir, when first my Sword,
My Fortune, Life, and still yet more—my Honour,
Were all engag'd to fight the Cause of Justice;
You thought with me, the Wrongs to be redress'd
Were the Attempts upon the Subjects Right,
The unregarded Laws, and bold Design
To stretch Prerogative to boundless Rule.
Design full fair and noble! And th'Event,
Has crown'd our utmost Wishes: England owns
No arbitrary Sway; The King's Adherents
Are all dispers'd, or the Remains so few,
They are not worth a Fear; The King himself
In close Confinement.—Now let Reason judge,
And blend Discretion with Success.
Let us be just—but let us stop at Justice,
Nor by too hasty Zeal o'ershoot the Mark.
The Roman Spirits, savage as they were,
When they determin'd to abolish Kings,
Shed not the Blood of Tarquin, but expell'd him:
And shall we, Owners of the Christian Law,
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Be harder to appease? If not more mild,
Let us not be more cruel than Barbarians:
Charles grasp'd, we own, at Arbitrary Sway,
And wou'd have been a Tyrant—for which Crime
The Kingdoms he was born to, we have seiz'd:
But let us not despoil him of his Life.
Crowns as the Gift of Men, Men may resume,
But Life, the Gift of Heaven, let Heaven dispose of.
CROMWELL.
Well have you weigh'd each growing Circumstance,
And held Discretion in the nicest Scale:
Our Fears remov'd, the Subject Right restor'd;
What have we more to do, than to sit down,
And each enjoy the Vineyard of his Toil?
'Tis true: But yet some Clamours are abroad;
Petitions daily crowd the Parliament,
That loudly call for Justice on the King:
Imputing to his Charge the Guilt of Murders,
The Desolation that has bared the Land,
And swept the Crops of Plenty from our Fields.
FAIRFAX.
What, shall the Rabble judge? those servile Curs,
Who, as they eat in Plenty, snarl Sedition.
Are these to be regarded?
CROMWELL.
You mistake me:
'Tis not their Outcries only; but indeed,
Those who see farther, and with better Judgment,
Fear while he lives, his Friends will never die,
But by some Foreign Force or Home Design,
May sometime shake the Safety of the State:
Besides they speak of an approv'd good Maxim,
“Remove the Cause and the Effect will cease.
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I have seen thee watch Occasion, 'till Advantage
Came smiling to thy Arms: and crown'd thy Patience:
And then in Fight, I have beheld thy Sword
Out-fly the Pace of pestilential Air,
And kill in Multitudes.
FAIRFAX.
Good Sir, forbear.
CROMWELL.
Blush not to hear a Truth, when Cromwell speaks it:
My uncouth Manner, ill at varnishing,
Beggars my Will, and dresses Praise uncomely.
Methinks I see thee in the Rage of Battle,
When Naseby's Field confest thy Victor Arm,
And thy Decision was the Fate of Kings:
Methinks I view thee midst the bustling Ranks,
Where Danger was the nearest—(for you brought it)
Unhelm'd encounter Armies, and despise
The Safety that the meanest Soldier wore;
And when a private Man with bold Assertion
Challeng'd a Conquest which your Arm had gain'd,
And was reprov'd; methinks I hear you say,
“I have enough of Glory, let him own it.
FAIRFAX.
Whither does all this tend? I pray forbear—
I never fought in hopes to have it told:
The Man whose Actions speak, expects no Answer.
CROMWELL.
I do but barely tell thee what thou art,
And what the World may yet expect of Fairfax.
The Diamond, Merit, in the Quarry hid,
Being unknown, unseen, attracts no Eyes,
But digg'd up by the Lab'rer's Curiosity,
And polish'd by the Hand of Gratitude,
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Think therefore what you are, and what this Juncture.
The fairest Lock of Fortune is display'd,
And should be seiz'd on by the bold and worthy.
FAIRFAX.
You talk in Clouds above my Purpose quite;
Which was but to enforce the Cause of Mercy,
And shew how much is gain'd by stopping here;
To tell you what my Conscience makes Opinion,
And strengthen that Opinion by your Voice.
CROMWELL.
'Tis true indeed—I had forgot my self;
But whither was I hurried in my Zeal?
E'en I can descant on a pleasing Theme:
Can you forgive me? tho' 'tis hard indeed;
Exalted Virtue can with Ease forgive
A Calumny, but not a Praise.—No more,
Heav'n witness for me, with what true Accord
My Thoughts meet yours! How willing I would stop
The Arm of Violence and make the Law,
Stern as she is, assume a Face of Smiles.
The Death of Charles is far from my Design—
And yet the general Outcry is for Justice:
He has been much to blame, you know he has;
And (but I soften those unruly Thoughts)
Were I to speak the Dictates of my Heart,
I cou'd not find a Punishment too great
To fall upon the Man, who shou'd, like Charles,
Forget all Right, and waste with lavish Hand
The rich Revenue of his Peoples Love.
FAIRFAX.
Dearly he suffers for misguided Steps,
And knows that Misery he meant to give;
He feels the Bondage he design'd for us,
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CROMWELL.
I pity him; and wou'd the Commons think with me,
He were as safe as Cromwell, and brave Fairfax,
We will endeavour it; and may that Power,
Whose Arm has fought the Battle of our Cause,
Incline 'em all to think like you,—or me;
[Aside.
I will about it. Yet remember, Fairfax,
The Posture of these Times: Consider too
How great your Expectations ought to be:
Wou'd Fairfax listen to the Voice of Cromwell,
He shou'd have nearer Hopes than Charles's Life:
Somewhat as great as your Desert shou'd crown you,
And make you Partner of the highest Honours.
[Exit.
FAIRFAX.
The highest Honours! What can Cromwell mean?
Acquit me, Heav'n! I fought not but for Justice,
Rage fir'd me not, nor did Ambition blind;
No Party led me, and no Interest bound:
My Tie was Conscience, and my Cause was Freedom.
When Fairfax listens to another Call,
May his next Stroke in Battle be his last.
Enter IRETON.
IRETON.
Fairfax, I come commission'd by the Army
To know your Pleasure, if you think it meet
That they shou'd march and quarter nearer London:
The publick Safety makes it requisite:
But they attend your Orders ere they move.
FAIRFAX.
The publick Safety! Say what new Alarm,
What Danger so awakes Security,
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IRETON.
The Safety of the Commons, of your self,
Of the high Court of Justice; who to-morrow
Against a Tyrant prove the People's Pow'r,
And brings offending Majesty to Justice:
This may excite his yet remaining Friends,
Arm'd with Despair, to some Attempt of Danger.
Who can be too secure? The Man whose Pillow
Prevention guards, may sleep in Ease and Safety.
FAIRFAX.
To bring offending Majesty to Justice?
IRETON.
To the Scaffold.
FAIRFAX.
Ha!
IRETON.
Why do you start?
FAIRFAX.
Your Zeal too much transports you.
Ireton, farewel,—and let me gain Belief,
When I affirm this Moral to thy Ear:
Conscience than Empire more Content can bring,
And to be just, is to be more than King.
[Exit.
Enter CROMWELL.
CROMWELL.
It is enough, good Kinsman, let him go—
And yet I cou'd well wish that he was ours—
But 'tis no matter—You began to warm,
And the good Cause sat burning on thy Cheek;
Thou hast a well-turn'd Tongue: But list thee, Ireton,
Hear my Design (for still my Heart is thine)
The Commons most are ours: The Weeder's Care
Has, from the Garden of our Enterprize,
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And now our Growth looks timely. This you saw,
When by my means a hundred doubted Members
Were by the Army seiz'd upon their Entrance,
And since expell'd the House. Independency
Roots itself fast; while Presbytery Force
Withers unseen. Wou'd Fairfax had been ours!
IRETON.
I cannot see that his Adherence to us
Cou'd prosper much our Cause, or his Defection
Make us decline one Moment from our Purpose.
CROMWELL.
You mistake, Ireton, Fairfax stands the first
In Interest with the very Men I hate:
Therefore his joint Endeavour wou'd be found
The easiest Means to bring my Point to bear;
Besides, he stands the fairest in the Love
Of our whole Party. Were we link'd together,
The Army too were ours; and their keen Swords
Are powerful Arguments. We shall thrive however—
I have it—He shall hence, and on an Expedition
Not the most just; I know his squeamish Honour,
If it surmise an Action the least tainted,
Will throw up this Employment: Then 'tis mine:
And while I have Dame Fortune, she shall please me.
IRETON.
But the main Turn of all your Enterprize
Hangs on to Morrow, on the Death of Charles:
'Tis from his Scaffold only you must mount
To what your Wishes aim at.
CROMWELL.
Fear not that.
I have to do with Men, upon whose Tempers
I know to work—Those who love Piety,
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And thro' the Spirit practise on their Passions.
Those who are crafty, I subdue with Fraud,
And wile 'em to my Purpose. To the Bloody
I promise Slaughters, Deaths and Executions:
Gold gains the Covetous; and Praise the Proud.
There is another sort—but they are easy;
Your honest Men, who never wear Distrust:
For Honesty's the Jaundice of the Mind,
That makes us think our Neighbours like ourselves:
Let us together. Ireton, here it lies;
When Fools believe, wise Men are sure to rise.
| King Charles the First | |