University of Virginia Library

Scene II.

—The Painted Chamber. Bradshaw, Harrison, Cook, Downes, Tichburne, Marten, and other Judges.
Har.
Be ye all smit with palsy? Hang your arms
Dead at your sides, that ye refuse to sign
The Warrant? Be ye turned Idolaters?
Rank worshippers of Baal?

Brad.
They refuse not.

Mar.
They parley, Sir, they dally, they delay.

Cook.
The wiser if they did. 'Twere vantage ground,
The keen axe swinging o'er his head, to treat
With yon great prisoner.

Har.
Treat! Was yonder trial
A mummery, a stage-play, a farce? Oh blind
And stubborn generation!

Dow.
The whole people
Are struck with awe and pity. Each man's cheek
Is pale; each woman's eye is wet; each child
Lifts up its little hands as to implore
Mercy for the poor King.

Har.
Captivity
And bondage will o'ertake them! They fall off
Like the revolted Tribes. Egyptian bondage!

Enter Cromwell.
Crom.
Wherefore so loud good Colonel? Sirs, I shame
To have held ye waiting here. A sudden cause,
I pray ye believe it urgent, hindered me.
Where is the warrant? Have ye left a space
For my poor name?

Mar.
Thou wilt find room enow.
There!

Crom.
What unsigned?—Harrison!—He came hither
To crave your signatures.

Har.
I did my message!
But these Philistines—

Crom.
Do ye shame to set
Your names to your own deeds? Did ye not pass
This solemn sentence in the face of day,
Before the arraigned King, the shouting people,
The majesty of Heaven?

Tich.
Thou dost mistake us.

Crom.
I crave your pardon, Sirs. I deemed ye were
The judges, the King's judges, the elect
Of England, chosen by her godly Commons
As wisest, boldest, best. I did mistake ye.

Dow.
Listen, ere thou accuse us.

Mar.
Listen! sign!
And we will listen though your pleaded reason
Outlast Hugh Peters' sermon.

Dow.
Hear me first.

Crom.
Well!

Dow.
We have here Commissioners from Scotland
Praying our mercy on the King.

Crom.
They gave him
Into our hands.

Har.
And they are answered Sir.
Thou know'st that Cromwell singly put them down,
As they had been young babes.

Dow.
The Pensionary—

Crom.
Pshaw!

Dow.
Hath sent pressing missives; Embassies
From every court, are on the seas; and Charles
Proffers great terms.

Crom.
Have we not all?

Cook.
But he
Will give a fair security, a large
And general amnesty. So are we freed
From fear of after-reckoning.

Crom.
Master Cook
No wonder that a lawyer pleads to-day
Against his cause of yesterday—if feed
To the height. But thou art not of us; thy part
Is o'er

Mar.
He will give large securities!
For what?

Dow.
The general safety and our own.

Mar.
Safety, say liberty! Securities.
Marry large promises! An ye will trust
Ye may be Earls and Marquesses, and portion
This pretty islet England as a manor
Amongst ye. Shame ye not to think a bribe
Might win your souls from freedom?

Har.
From the Lord!
Would ye desert His people? sell for gain
His cause?

Crom.
Hush! Hush! none thinketh to forsake
The cause!

Tich.
Let Bradshaw sign. What need more names
Than the Lord President's?

Brad.
I am ready, Sirs,
An ye will follow me. The Instrument
Were else illegal. When ye are prepared,
Speak.

Crom.
My good masters, ye remember me
Of a passage of my boyhood.
(then aside to Bradshaw and Harrison)
Deem me not
A light unmeaning trifler, recollect
How Nathan spake to David. (then aloud)
Being a child
Nutting with other imps in the old copse
At Hinchinbroke, we saw across a wide
But shallow stream one overhanging hazel.
Whose lissome stalks were weighed by the rich fruitage
Almost into the water. As we stood
Eyeing the tempting boughs, a shining nut
Fell from its socket, dimpling wide around
The dark clear mirror. At that sight one bold
And hardy urchin, with myself, no less
In those young days a daring wight, at once
Plunged in the sparkling rivulet. It rose
Above our ancles, to our knees, half up
Our thighs, and my scared comrade in the midst
Of the stream turned roaring back, and gained the bank
Nutless and wet, amidst the scoffing shouts
Of the small people.

Brad.
And thou?

Crom.
Why I bore
My course right on, and gained the spoil. Sirs, we
Have plunged knee deep in the waters; are midway
The stream: Will ye turn now and leave the fruit
Ungathered, recreants? or hold boldly on
And win the holy prize of freedom? Give me
The warrant. (signs.)
So! methinks an it were not
Over ambitious, and that's a sin;
My homely name should stand alone to this
Most righteous scroll. Follow who list. I've left
A space for the Lord President.

Brad.
I'll fill it
With an unworthy name.

(signs.)
Crom.
Now swell the roll
My masters! Whither goest thou Marten? None
Shall stir till he hath signed. Thou a ripe scholar,
Not write thy name! I can write mine i' the dark,
And oft with my sword-point have traced in air
The viewless characters in the long hour
Before the joy of battle. Shut thine eyes,
And write thy name! Anywhere! See
(Marking Marten's cheek with a pen.)
Nay Marten,
Stand still!—See! See! how fair and clerkly! Yet
This parchment is the smoother.

Mar.
Hold thee sure
I'll pay thee, General.

Tich.
Why he hath marked thee
Like a new ruddled sheep.

Mar.
I'll pay thee.

Crom.
Sign.

Marten.
Willingly; joyfully.

(signs.)
Crom.
Why so. Where goes
Our zealous alderman? I deemed to see
His name the first.

Brad.
He fears the City's safety,
Full, as he says, of the King's friends.

Crom.
He fears!
They be bold men who fearlessly do own
Their fears. I dare not. Fear! Sir, didst thou come
By water hither?

Tich.
No.

Crom.
And didst thou meet
No soldiers on thy way?

Tich.
Many. The streets
Are swarming with them.

Crom.
Were they silent?

Tich.
No,
They called aloud for execution.

Crom.
Say,
For justice and for execution. Marry,
My Ironsides know not the new state trick
To separate the words. Well! are not they
A nearer fear? Sign boldly.

(Cromwell, Marten and Downes, advance to the front)
Mar.
They flock fast.

Crom.
'Tis time, for plots are weaving round about us,
Like spider's nets in Autumn. But this morning
I swept one web away. Lord Broghill—

Mar.
What!
Hath he been here?

Dow.
Is he discovered?

Crom.
Sir,
I have a slow-hound's scent to track a traitor.
He's found and he's despatched.

Dow.
How?

Mar.
Where?

Crom.
To Ireland,
With a commission 'gainst the rebels. 'Tis
An honest soldier who deserves to fight
For the good cause. He but mistook his side;
The Queen beguiled him, and the knightly sound
Of loyalty. But 'tis an honest soldier.
He will prove faithful.

Mar.
How didst win him?

Crom.
How?
A word of praise, a thought of fear. How do men
Win traitors? Hark ye Downes! Lord Broghill left
A list of the King's friends amongst us here;—
Grave seeming Roundheads, bold and zealous soldiers,
High officers—I marvel not ye look
Distrustfully—one of renown, a Colonel,
A Judge too! Downes, hast thou signed yonder Warrant?

Mar.
What was the plan?

Crom.
Go sign I say.—The plan!
A sudden rescue, to o'erpower the guard.—
Ha! Ingoldsby
(Seizing one of the Judges and leading him to the table.
Nay, man, if thou be questioned,
Some dozen years hence, say that I forced thee, swear
Thy wicked kinsman held thy hand.—Aye, now
The blank is nobly filled, and bravely! now
I know ye once again, the pious Judges
The elect and godly of the land!
(A trumpet heard without)
Ha!—Marten,
Haste to my son; bid him disband his force;
The peril is gone by.

(Exit Marten.)
Har.
What peril?

Crom.
Ye
That are assembled here, should lift your voice
In earnest thanks for quick deliverance
From sudden danger. Ye knew nought of this
Great jeopardy, nor need ye know. Give thanks,
And question not. Ye are safe.

Brad.
Art sure of that?

Crom.
Did ye not hear me even now take order
The guard should be dispersed? Question no more.
Ye are so safe, that this slight parchment, Sirs,
May be your shield.

Brad.
The deed is incomplete.
It hath no date.

Crom.
Ah! well reminded! write
The Thirtieth.

Dow.
Tomorrow? that were sudden.

Crom.
Why so we must be. There be plots astir,
And speed is our best safety.—Thou hast signed?
Thy name is here amongst us?—I must haste
To overtake the hour. 'Tis still unsealed.
Add thou my signet, Bradshaw.

(Exit Cromwell.)
Tich.
What intends
The General?

Brad.
Question not of that. A taper!
Your seals, my Lords Commissioners! Your seals!

(The Scene closes.)