 | Charles The First |  |
53
ACT III.
SCENE: THE QUEEN'S TENT NEAR NEWARK.[Sounds of distant cannon.]
The Queen discovered.
Queen.
Those fatal sounds! so thick, so dread, so heavy.
Ah! how can he survive?
At every sullen echo of the fight
I start in such an ecstasy of terror,
My fears will rob his armour of its proof,
Direct the furious sword thrusts to its chinks,
And make his breast a target for the shot.
What shall I do? Oh! I must act or stir.
There is an agony in idleness.
I'll write down all I think
To show to him when he comes back to me.
[Distant cannon.
The voice of fate was in that dreadful sound.
Methought I saw him reeling from his horse;
The beauty of his face eclipsed in blood!
I must do something, or methinks I'll die.
The fight—it is at Grantham? Where is Grantham?
[Goes for, and examines a map. Cannon heard; she dashes map away.]
Eleanor! Lady Eleanor! Come quick.
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Eleanor.
Your Majesty call'd?
Queen.
Yes, come, sit you near.
I'm not afraid; but I am somewhat anxious.
I do believe that thou canst read the future.
Canst see what's passing far away from us?
Eleanor.
Your Majesty, I can, having foreseen it.
Queen.
By the stars?
Eleanor.
By the stars.
Queen.
Quick, tell me by thy powers
How fares the King?
Eleanor.
Pray you permit me, [mysteriously]
Saturn's conjunction
With Mars was on the—Ah! I do remember.
The King comes back to thee safe and unhurt.
Queen.
Oh! thou art good to me. I see thy skill.
Thou art more skilful far than Master Lilly,
Though he be famous! Will he be victorious?
Eleanor.
A moment! The configuration of Mars
With Mercury shows—stay, let me see. Again
The configuration of Mars with Mercury
In his first house. Marry, that's good! that's good!
Queen.
How skill'd thou art!
Eleanor.
Alas! this dreadful influence of Saturn.
Your Majesty must question me no more.
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No more! What mean you, Eleanor? oh, Eleanor!
Eleanor.
I must repeat it: ask me, pray, no more.
Alas! there be no thanks for evil news.
Queen
(angrily).
What mummery is this. Thou hast no gift!
Dar'st thou—this is the manner of imposture
To put a myst'ry on. O Eleanor,
Thou'st stabb'd me to the heart; stolen all my courage.
Eleanor.
When I speak pleasant things, your Majesty
Commends my skill; but when their hap is evil,
I'm an impostor. This is somewhat hard!
Queen.
I know not what I do. Oh! pardon me.
Eleanor.
Take comfort yet, for further I foretell
Your Majesty shall long survive the King,
And lead a prosperous happy life in France.
Queen.
Prosperous and happy—and survive the King!
It is a lie! as plain as if you said
The heavens shall be when all the stars are dead.
Dost call this comfort?
The prayer of all my married life has been—
And I will pray the Virgin day and night—
That I should die before his Majesty.
Robert! Where is my page?
[Enter a Page.
Art thou brave, Robert? Art afraid of aught?
Nay, pardon; I do like that smile of thine.
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As gain'd in the dear service of thy mistress.
Ride to the battle-field—go not too near;
But gather news for me. Strain thy young eyes
To see the King. Look to the van of battle,
For he'll be there, then hie thee back to me
With news—good news! I thirst—I faint for news.
[Exit Page.
Oh! that my spirit could fly forth with him,
And like this favour'd boy speed to the spot
Where strives that dear one face to face with death.
I'd float above his crest with viewless hands,
And gird him so, and turn the whistling balls.
Like the big raindrops, my quick ghostly kisses
Would fall upon his cheek, half kiss, half tear.
But when he charges, in the rushing pant
Of wind, across his ear would come my whisper,
And sound like joyful shouts of victory.
Eleanor.
Your Majesty should try to sleep awhile.
You have not rested since your journey hither.
Queen.
Sleep! Eleanor, couldst sleep upon the rack?
Eleanor.
Now please your Majesty, I pray you try;
A soldier like your Majesty should sleep
At any moment. Rest upon this couch.
Queen.
Eh bien! I'll try. Perhaps I might awake
And find him at my pillow. Blessed waking!
[Reclines on couch in tent.
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Moray.
Ireton, I do repent. I cannot do it.
I have withheld from him my promised aid,
Because 'twould but prolong a desperate strife.
I will not, though you build a golden pyramid
Before my tent, betray my royal master.
Ireton.
Brave words, my lord, and see thou hold to them.
Thy troops prevent our falling on his rear,
Thy tents are here a haven for his wreck.
But even now Lord Fairfax beats him down;
E'en now, methinks, the steady firing breaks,
And I can hear the sounds of utter rout.
Before thee, the victorious front of Fairfax,
And in thy rear the Ironsides of Cromwell.
Lord Leven and Lord Lothian deem it awkward.
What thinkest thou, Lord Moray?
Moray.
Do not tempt me.
Ireton.
Thou wert the nearest of his counsellors,
And but for his protection, long ago
Thou wouldst have been a victim. Thou art lost!
Moray.
Aye! His protection!
Ireton.
Thou shalt be hunted by them like a wolf!
Thy sands are numbering—decide at once.
Moray.
Where shall I live, and whither shall I fly?
The loyal Scots will curse me for this deed.
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Lord Lothian and Lord Leven will not curse thee.
As for thy flight—those fifty thousand pounds
Thou sharest with them (if all that weight of gold
Will not retard thee), those shall be thy wings.
Moray.
Nay, talk not of the gold. I'll do it? Leave me!
Ireton.
Be firm!
[Exit Ireton.
Queen
(rousing from slumber).
Eleanor! hear'st thou voices?
Eleanor.
Only the gossip of the sentinels.
Queen.
Nay, there were sounds as ominous to me
As when there breaks upon the traveller's vigil
The rustle of a tiger in the jungle.
Some enemy—some traitor is without.
Eleanor.
Nay, nay, it seem'd to me a pleasant voice.
Queen.
I have an instinct passes prophecy.
[The Queen steps from tent and encounters Moray, who advances abstractedly.]
What hast thou done?
Moray
(starts, confused).
Nothing, your Majesty.
Queen.
Then why art thou not fighting by thy King,
Instead of whispering here, without the tent?
Moray.
I did not think your Majesty was here.
Queen.
Thank Heav'n, I was. I say, what hast thou done.
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Your Majesty's suspicions pain me sorely.
Queen.
Pain you! My lord, I do not think of you
When I would sweep an asp from the King's path.
Who was that Roundhead talk'd with thee but now?
Moray.
Truly your Majesty, you do me wrong.
I have been tempted—I confess to this;
But I repell'd him with indignant scorn.
Queen.
Look in my face! That sin so heinous black
Should blush more darkly than the Ethiop.
Thine eyes more honest than thy tongue will blab it,
Before you think look up, Sir, if you dare.
Moray
(encountering her gaze).
What seest thou in my face?
Queen.
I do not see
The virtue of a blush; but I can read
Thy heart.
[Trumpet. Enter a Page hastily.
Page.
The King! he rides in desperate haste.
Queen.
Bon Dieu! he's safe—he's safe! I ask no more.
Moray
(excitedly).
Let not the King come here! Ah, Heaven, too late!
Enter Charles, Huntley, and followers in armour.
King.
Lord Moray! Where is he? Dear love, thou here?
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Grâce à Marie! safe and unwounded back.
King.
I cannot speak to thee, dear heart. Be patient.
Some call Lord Moray.
Queen.
I must speak with thee.
Beware of—
King
(seeing Moray).
Ah! Moray, at the sight of thy true face
I breathe again. A map! Ho! there—a map!
[Goes into tent.
Give me some water!
The battle's almost desperate with us.
We still make head against the lines of Fairfax;
But any moment all may be in rout.
[Looks over map.
Oh, mark you here.
See here, between this town and Nottingham
Prowls Cromwell marching thro' his native fens.
I had it from our scouts that he is near.
If he attack our rear, as sure he will,
Eluding the Scots army, all is lost!
Here—ay, the road—and there methinks it curves
Around these fens. Here he is like to be.
Now, now, the troops you promis'd. I will meet him.
Moray
(embarrassed).
Your Majesty—
King.
What would you say, dear friend?
Without, ho! Sound the call to arms! fresh horses!
Priceless is every passing moment. Haste!
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Charles, one word—
King.
Pardon, not now, my love.
(To Moray.)
Why dost thou tarry? Moray, dost thou sleep
When brave men die?
Moray.
My liege—Oh, let these tears
Speak for me now. I know not what to say.
King.
Say nothing, man; or let thy speech be brief.
It is an hour when words should be like blows.
Moray.
Lord Lothian and Lord Leven both intend
To make good terms—
King.
Wouldst drive me mad? Good terms!
Lord Lothian! Haste! The troops you promised me.
Moray.
I would, my liege, I knew the words would soothe you.
King.
Thou soothest me as little as a dream
Of water soothes the swollen tongue of fever.
I tell thee, man, I dare not credit now
All the cold comfort written in thine eyes.
Moray.
I must explain—a few words will suffice.
King.
Dost know the price of every idle word?
A precious, precious life! Thy slow excuse
Is echo'd yonder by a true man's groan.
The troops you promised me!
Moray.
The Scots are faithful! If your Majesty
Would let me tell them you embrace the Covenant.
King.
I only know our covenant of honour.
The troops you promised!
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Nay, your Majesty—
King.
The troops you promised!
Moray.
'Tis impossible.
King.
Sorer than Marston Moor or fatal Naseby
Is this last blow!
Queen.
Away with me! We stand upon a pitfall.
Let us ride hence at once, and we are safe.
King
(to Moray).
How canst thou treat me thus, and meet to-morrow?
Thou standest there twisting thy hands and trembling,
The very picture of a fickle spirit
Who would, but dare not, be an honest man.
Queen.
The ship that brought me here lies still at Dover,
In France you shall refit, and find support.
King.
Peace, Mary. I am here for life or death!
I grow here by a hundred bleeding roots.
My friends who shed their blood for me to-day;
How can I tear myself from such dear soil?
(To Moray.)
Wilt wait, man, till thy King sheds tears of blood,
If his words move thee not?
Moray.
My liege, Lord Leven is commander here.
King.
Commander-in-chief am I! who is Lord Leven,
When I, the King of Scots, do summon thee?
Queen.
There yet is time. Alas! why rest thy foot
Upon that quicksand.
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(to Moray).
I'll not believe thee false. Give me thy hand
Thou art young to die. Thy company I ask not;
It is my hour, not thine, to win or lose.
Fulfil thy pledge, and if I live through it
As Heaven doth hear me in this piteous hour,
Choose from my hand the gift that tempts thee most,
Of title, wealth, or honour—thou shalt have it.
And in the annals of my hapless reign
I'll set this faithful action jewel-bright—
How Moray kept his promise to the King,
And saved the throne of England!
Moray.
I can but try—
Your Majesty I go—
King.
Away! all is not lost!
As Moray hurries off, enter Cromwell, Ireton, and Soldiers.
Huntley
(intercepting Moray).
Nay, thou shalt weather out thy villainy.
King
(to Cromwell).
What means thy presence here?
Cromwell.
Your Majesty hath fallen into the toils—
Thy friend delivers thee into our hands.
King.
Am I thy prisoner?
Cromwell
(bowing).
Your Majesty shall meet with all respect.
In the ungracious duty thrown upon me
64
To show a tender and respectful sympathy.
King.
I thank you, Sir, and if you be sincere,
I pray you, let Lord Huntley mount at once
And post to yonder field to stop the bloodshed.
Cromwell.
'Tis over. We expect Lord Fairfax presently.
King.
My friends, Sir. What of them?
Cromwell.
Towards them, your Majesty, I owe no duty.
Your friends are routed and pursued with slaughter.
King.
Have they no quarter, sir?
[Cromwell shrugs his shoulders.
My friends all slaughter'd—I alive!
Cromwell.
My good Lord Moray, we have understood
Lords Leven, Lothian, and thyself are nice
About the payment! You must have all gold!
Moray
(embarrassed).
Sir—I—nothing—I protest.
Cromwell.
Such weight of metal on our broken roads
Will travel slowly; and we English brook not
That in our land your locust army tarry;
The country clamours for relief from it.
Moreover, I require that you make good
To the poor husbandmen for robbery
From pen and hen-roost by thy Scottish foxes.
But have full confidence thy gold shall reach thee
For this thou hast our honour!
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Lothian and Leven may divide the gold—
I'll none of it. Prithee talk lower, sir.
Cromwell.
Say you? (Aloud.)
Divide your booty as you please,
Your bribes are ready, and your names are sign'd
The Lord deliver me from such a junto!
King.
Pardon me if I mused. What is your will?
Cromwell.
If it be pleasing to your Majesty,
By easy stages we proceed to-night
To reach within the week your house at Holmby.
King.
Truly I put your kindness to the test.
Cromwell.
Your Majesty must teach me.
King.
Let those few friends about my person here
Have liberty and conduct to depart.
Cromwell.
On my responsibility I grant it—
Gentlemen, you are free. Depart in peace.
Huntley.
Not I, Sir. Never was a Gordon known
To leave his master in extremity.
King
(to Huntley).
Old friend! I dare not speak too much of thanks
Lest tears brim over and betray my weakness.
(To Cromwell.)
But, Sir—my wife—the Queen?
Queen.
Nay, speak not so—
(To Cromwell.)
I am not Queen, but wife!
I'd liefer share his sorrow than his throne.
I go with him!
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Then all is said, Sir. Shall we close this scene?
Cromwell.
We would not incommode your Majesty;
But it grows late—and there's an idlo form—
[Points to Charles's sword.
King.
Sir, I can understand—one moment yet.
[Cromwell bows and goes up.
(To Moray.)
Charles Moray! I had meant to go in silence;
But pain o'ermasters me and I must speak.
Come nearer.
[Moray approaches with downcast head, and gradually sinks on his knee before the King, during his speech.]
I saw a picture once by a great master,
'Twas an old man's head.
Narrow and evil was its wrinkled front—
Eyes close and cunning; a dull vulpine smile.
'Twas called a Judas! Wide that painter erred.
Judas had eyes like thine, of candid blue;
His skin was smooth, his hair of youthful gold;
Upon his brow shone the white stamp of truth;
And lips like thine did give the traitor kiss!
The King, My father, loved thine—and at his death
He gave me solemn charge to cherish thee.
And I have kept it to my injury.
It is a score of years since then, my lord,
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[Charles turns to Cromwell.
Sir, you demand my sword. I yield it you!
END OF ACT THE THIRD.
| Charles The First | |