Chapter V: Act I: SCENE I.--A House near Whitehall (1)

_HAMPDEN, HOLLIS, the +younger+ VANE, RUDYARD, FIENNES and many of the Presbyterian Party: LOUDON and other Scots' Commissioners._

_Vane._ I say, if he be here--

_Rudyard._ (And he is here!)--

_Hollis._ For England's sake let every man be still
Nor speak of him, so much as say his name,
Till Pym rejoin us! Rudyard! Henry Vane!
One rash conclusion may decide our course
And with it England's fate--think--England's fate!
Hampden, for England's sake they should be still!

_Vane._ You say so, Hollis? Well, I must be still.
It is indeed too bitter that one man,
Any one man's mere presence, should suspend
England's combined endeavor: little need
To name him!

_Rudyard._ For you are his brother, Hollis!

_Hampden._ Shame on you, Rudyard! time to tell him that,
When he forgets the Mother of us all.

_Rudyard._ Do I forget her?

_Hampden._ You talk idle hate
Against her foe: is that so strange a thing?
Is hating Wentworth all the help she needs?

_A Puritan._ The Philistine strode, cursing as he went:
But David--five smooth pebbles from the brook
Within his scrip....

_Rudyard._ Be you as still as David!

_Fiennes._ Here's Rudyard not ashamed to wag a tongue
Stiff with ten years' disuse of Parliaments;
Why, when the last sat, Wentworth sat with us!

_Rudyard._ Let's hope for news of them now he returns--
He that was safe in Ireland, as we thought!
--But I'll abide Pym's coming.

_Vane._ Now, by Heaven,
They may be cool who can, silent who will--
Some have a gift that way! Wentworth is here,
Here, and the King's safe closeted with him
Ere this. And when I think on all that's past
Since that man left us, how his single arm
Rolled the advancing good of England back
And set the woeful past up in its place,
Exalting Dagon where the Ark should be,--
How that man has made firm the fickle King
(Hampden, I will speak out!)--in aught he feared
To venture on before; taught tyranny
Her dismal trade, the use of all her tools,
To ply the scourge yet screw the gag so close
That strangled agony bleeds mute to death;
How he turns Ireland to a private stage
For training infant villanies, new ways
Of wringing treasure out of tears and blood,
Unheard oppressions nourished in the dark
To try how much man's nature can endure
--If he dies under it, what harm? if not,
Why, one more trick is added to the rest
Worth a king's knowing, and what Ireland bears
England may learn to bear:--how all this while
That man has set himself to one dear task,
The bringing Charles to relish more and more
Power, power without law, power and blood too
--Can I be still?

_Hampden._ For that you should be still.

_Vane._ Oh Hampden, then and now! The year he left us,
The People in full Parliament could wrest
The Bill of Rights from the reluctant King;
And now, he'll find in an obscure small room
A stealthy gathering of great-hearted men
That take up England's cause: England is here!

_Hampden._ And who despairs of England?

_Rudyard._ That do I,
If Wentworth comes to rule her. I am sick
To think her wretched masters, Hamilton,
The muckworm Cottington, the maniac Laud,
May yet be longed-for back again. I say,
I do despair.

_Vane._ And, Rudyard, I'll say this--
Which all true men say after me, not loud
But solemnly and as you'd say a prayer!
This King, who treads our England underfoot,
Has just so much ... it may be fear or craft,
As bids him pause at each fresh outrage; friends,
He needs some sterner hand to grasp his own,
Some voice to ask, "Why shrink? Am I not by?"
Now, one whom England loved for serving her,
Found in his heart to say, "I know where best
The iron heel shall bruise her, for she leans
Upon me when you trample." Witness, you!
So Wentworth heartened Charles, so England fell.
But inasmuch as life is hard to take
From England....

_Many Voices._ Go on, Vane! 'Tis well said, Vane!

_Vane._ --Who has not so forgotten Runnymead!--

_Voices._ 'Tis well and bravely spoken, Vane! Go on!

_Vane._ --There are some little signs of late she knows
The ground no place for her. She glances round,
Wentworth has dropped the hand, is gone his way
On other service: what if she arise?
No! the King beckons, and beside him stands
The same bad man once more, with the same smile
And the same gesture. Now shall England crouch,
Or catch at us and rise?

_Voices._ The Renegade!
Haman! Ahithophel!

_Hampden._ Gentlemen of the North,
It was not thus the night your claims were urged,
And we pronounced the League and Covenant,
The cause of Scotland, England's cause as well:
Vane there, sat motionless the whole night through.

_Vane._ Hampden!

_Fiennes._ Stay, Vane!

_Loudon._ Be just and patient, Vane!

_Vane._ Mind how you counsel patience, Loudon! you
Have still a Parliament, and this your League
To back it; you are free in Scotland still:
While we are brothers, hope's for England yet.
But know you wherefore Wentworth comes? to quench
This last of hopes? that he brings war with him?
Know you the man's self? what he dares?

_Loudon._ We know,
All know--'tis nothing new.

_Vane._ And what's new, then,
In calling for his life? Why, Pym himself--
You must have heard--ere Wentworth dropped our cause
He would see Pym first; there were many more
Strong on the people's side and friends of his,
Eliot that's dead, Rudyard and Hampden here,
But for these Wentworth cared not; only, Pym
He would see--Pym and he were sworn, 'tis said,
To live and die together; so, they met
At Greenwich. Wentworth, you are sure, was long,
Specious enough, the devil's argument
Lost nothing on his lips; he'd have Pym own
A patriot could not play a purer part
Than follow in his track; they two combined
Might put down England. Well, Pym heard him out;
One glance--you know Pym's eye--one word was all:
"You leave us, Wentworth! while your head is on,
I'll not leave you."

_Hampden._ Has he left Wentworth, then?
Has England lost him? Will you let him speak,
Or put your crude surmises in his mouth?
Away with this! Will you have Pym or Vane?

_Voices._ Wait Pym's arrival! Pym shall speak.

_Hampden._ Meanwhile
Let Loudon read the Parliament's report
From Edinburgh: our last hope, as Vane says,
Is in the stand it makes. Loudon!

_Vane._ No, no!
Silent I can be: not indifferent!

_Hampden._ Then each keep silence, praying God to spare
His anger, cast not England quite away
In this her visitation!

_A Puritan._ Seven years long
The Midianite drove Israel into dens
And caves. Till God sent forth a mighty man,

_PYM enters_

Even Gideon!

_Pym._ Wentworth's come: nor sickness, care,
The ravaged body nor the ruined soul,
More than the winds and waves that beat his ship,
Could keep him from the King. He has not reached
Whitehall: they've hurried up a Council there
To lose no time and find him work enough.
Where's Loudon? your Scots' Parliament....

_Loudon._ Holds firm:
We were about to read reports.

_Pym._ The King
Has just dissolved your Parliament.

_Loudon and other Scots._ Great God!
An oath-breaker! Stand by us, England, then!

_Pym._ The King's too sanguine; doubtless Wentworth's here;
But still some little form might be kept up.

_Hampden._ Now speak, Vane! Rudyard, you had much to say!

_Hollis._ The rumor's false, then....

_Pym._ Ay, the Court gives out
His own concerns have brought him back: I know
'Tis the King calls him. Wentworth supersedes
The tribe of Cottingtons and Hamiltons
Whose part is played; there's talk enough, by this,--
Merciful talk, the King thinks: time is now
To turn the record's last and bloody leaf
Which, chronicling a nation's great despair,
Tells they were long rebellious, and their lord
Indulgent, till, all kind expedients tried,
He drew the sword on them and reigned in peace.
Laud's laying his religion on the Scots
Was the last gentle entry: the new page
Shall run, the King thinks, "Wentworth thrust it down
At the sword's point."

_A Puritan._ I'll do your bidding, Pym,
England's and God's--one blow!

_Pym._ A goodly thing--
We all say, friends, it is a goodly thing
To right that England. Heaven grows dark above:
Let's snatch one moment ere the thunder fall,
To say how well the English spirit comes out
Beneath it! All have done their best, indeed,
From lion Eliot, that grand Englishman,
To the least here: and who, the least one here,
When she is saved (for her redemption dawns
Dimly, most dimly, but it dawns--it dawns)
Who'd give at any price his hope away
Of being named along with the Great Men?
We would not--no, we would not give that up!

_Hampden._ And one name shall be dearer than all names.
When children, yet unborn, are taught that name
After their fathers',--taught what matchless man....

_Pym._ ... Saved England? What if Wentworth's should be still
That name?

_Rudyard and others._ We have just said it, Pym! His death
Saves her! We said it--there's no way beside!
I'll do God's bidding, Pym! They struck down Joab
And purged the land.

_Vane._ No villanous striking-down!

_Rudyard._ No, a calm vengeance: let the whole land rise
And shout for it. No Feltons!

_Pym._ Rudyard, no!
England rejects all Feltons; most of all
Since Wentworth ... Hampden, say the trust again
Of England in her servants--but I'll think
You know me, all of you. Then, I believe,
Spite of the past, Wentworth rejoins you, friends!

_Vane and others._ Wentworth? Apostate! Judas! Double-dyed
A traitor! Is it Pym, indeed....

_Pym._ ... Who says
Vane never knew that Wentworth, loved that man,
Was used to stroll with him, arm locked in arm,
Along the streets to see the people pass,
And read in every island-countenance
Fresh argument for God against the King,--
Never sat down, say, in the very house
Where Eliot's brow grew broad with noble thoughts,
(You've joined us, Hampden--Hollis, you as well,)
And then left talking over Gracchus' death....

_Vane._ To frame, we know it well, the choicest clause
In the Petition of Right: he framed such clause
One month before he took at the King's hand
His Northern Presidency, which that Bill
Denounced.

_Pym._ Too true! Never more, never more
Walked we together! Most alone I went.
I have had friends--all here are fast my friends--
But I shall never quite forget that friend.
And yet it could not but be real in him!
You, Vane,--you, Rudyard, have no right to trust
To Wentworth: but can no one hope with me?
Hampden, will Wentworth dare shed English blood
Like water?

_Hampden._ Ireland is Aceldama.

_Pym._ Will he turn Scotland to a hunting-ground
To please the King, now that he knows the King?
The People or the King? and that King, Charles!

_Hampden._ Pym, all here know you: you'll not set your heart
On any baseless dream. But say one deed
Of Wentworth's since he left us....

[_Shouting without._

_Vane._ There! he comes,
And they shout for him! Wentworth's at Whitehall,
The King embracing him, now, as we speak,
And he, to be his match in courtesies,
Taking the whole war's risk upon himself,
Now, while you tell us here how changed he is!
Hear you?

_Pym._ And yet if 'tis a dream, no more,
That Wentworth chose their side, and brought the King
To love it as though Laud had loved it first,
And the Queen after;--that he led their cause
Calm to success, and kept it spotless through,
So that our very eyes could look upon
The travail of our souls, and close content
That violence, which something mars even right
Which sanctions it, had taken off no grace
From its serene regard. Only a dream!

_Hampden._ We meet here to accomplish certain good
By obvious means, and keep tradition up
Of free assemblages, else obsolete,
In this poor chamber: nor without effect
Has friend met friend to counsel and confirm,
As, listening to the beats of England's heart,
We spoke its wants to Scotland's prompt reply
By these her delegates. Remains alone
That word grow deed, as with God's help it shall--
But with the devil's hindrance, who doubts too?
Looked we or no that tyranny should turn
Her engines of oppression to their use?
Whereof, suppose the worst be Wentworth here--
Shall we break off the tactics which succeed
In drawing out our formidablest foe,
Let bickering and disunion take their place?
Or count his presence as our conquest's proof,
And keep the old arms at their steady play?
Proceed to England's work! Fiennes, read the list!

_Fiennes._ Ship-money is refused or fiercely paid
In every county, save the northern parts
Where Wentworth's influence....

[_Shouting._

_Vane._ I, in England's name,
Declare her work, this way, at end! Till now,
Up to this moment, peaceful strife was best.
We English had free leave to think; till now,
We had a shadow of a Parliament
In Scotland. But all's changed: they change the first,
They try brute-force for law, they, first of all....

_Voices._ Good! Talk enough! The old true hearts with Vane!

_Vane._ Till we crush Wentworth for her, there's no act
Serves England!

_Voices._ Vane for England!

_Pym._ Pym should be
Something to England. I seek Wentworth, friends.

In the second scene of the first act, the man upon whom the popular party has been heaping opprobrium appears to speak for himself. Again the historical background must be known in order that the whole drift of the scene may be understood. Wentworth is talking with Lady Carlisle, a woman celebrated for her beauty and her wit, and fond of having friendships with great men. Various opinions of this beautiful woman have been expressed by those who knew her. "Her beauty," writes one, "brought her adorers of all ranks, courtiers, and poets, and statesmen; but she remained untouched by their worship." Sir Toby Mathews who prefixed to a collection of letters published in 1660 "A character of the most excellent Lady, Lucy, Countess of Carlisle," writes that she will "freely discourse of love, and hear both the fancies and powers of it; but if you will needs bring it within knowledge, and boldly direct it to herself, she is likely to divert the discourse, or, at least, seem not to understand it. By which you may know her humour, and her justice; for since she cannot love in earnest she would have nothing from love." According to him she filled her mind "with gallant fancies, and high and elevated thoughts," and "her wit being most eminent among the rest of her great abilities," even the conversation of those most famed for it was affected. Quite another view of her is given in a letter of Voiture's written to Mr. Gordon on leaving England in 1623.

"In one human being you let me see more treasures than there are there [the Tower], and even more lions and leopards. It will not be difficult for you to guess after this that I speak of the Countess of Carlisle. For there is nobody else of whom all this good and evil can be said. No matter how dangerous it is to let the memory dwell upon her, I have not, so far, been able to keep mine from it, and, quite honestly, I would not give the picture of her that lingers in my mind, for all the loveliest things I have seen in my life. I must confess that she is an enchanting personality, and there would not be a woman under heaven so worthy of affection, if she only knew what it was, and if she had as sensitive a nature as she has a reasonable mind. But with the temperament we know she possesses, there is nothing to be said except that she is the most lovable of all things not good, and the most delightful poison that nature ever concocted." Browning himself says he first sketched her character from Mathews, but finding that rather artificial, he used Voiture and Waller, who referred to her as the "bright Carlisle of the Court of Heaven." It should be remembered that she had become a widow and was considerably older at the time of her friendship with Wentworth than when Voiture wrote of her, and was probably better balanced, and truly worthy of Wentworth's own appreciation of her when he wrote, "A nobler nor a more intelligent friendship did I never meet with in my life." A passage in a letter to Laud indicates that Wentworth was well aware of the practical advantage in having such a friend as Lady Carlisle at Court. "I judge her ladyship very considerable. She is often in place, and extremely well skilled how to speak with advantage and spirit for those friends she professeth unto, which will not be many. There is this further in her disposition, she will not seem to be the person she is not, an ingenuity I have always observed and honoured her for."

It is something of a shock to learn that even before the Wentworth episode was well over, she became a friend of his bitterest foe, Pym. Gardiner sums up her character in as fair a way as any one,--and not at all inconsistent with Browning's portrayal of her.

"Lady Carlisle had now been for many years a widow. She had long been the reigning beauty at Court, and she loved to mingle political intrigue with social intercourse. For politics as a serious occupation she had no aptitude; but, in middle age, she felt a woman's pride in attaching to herself the strong heads by which the world was ruled, as she had attached to herself in youth, the witty courtier or the agile dancer. It was worth a statesman's while to cultivate her acquaintance. She could make him a power in society as well as in Council, could worm out a secret which it behoved him to know, and could convey to others his suggestions with assured fidelity. The calumny which treated Strafford, as it afterwards treated Pym, as her accepted lover, may be safely disregarded. But there can be no doubt that purely personal motives attached her both to Strafford and Pym. For Strafford's theory of Monarchical government she cared as little as she cared for Pym's theory of Parliamentary government. It may be, too, that some mingled feeling may have arisen in Strafford's breast. It was something to have an ally at Court ready at all times to plead his cause with gay enthusiasm, to warn him of hidden dangers, and to offer him the thread of that labyrinth which, under the name of 'the Queen's side,' was such a mystery to him. It was something, too, no doubt, that this advocate was not a grey haired statesman, but a woman, in spite of growing years, of winning grace and sparkling vivacity of eye and tongue."

Strafford, himself, Browning brings before us, ill, and worn out with responsibility as he was upon his return to England at this time. Carlisle tactfully lets him know how he will have to face criticisms from other councillors about the King, and how even the confidence of the fickle King cannot be relied upon. In his conference with the King in this scene, Strafford, at last, wins the confidence of the King as history relates. Wentworth, horrified at the way in which a war with Scotland has been precipitated, carries his point, that Parliaments should be called in Ireland and England. This will give time for preparation, and at the same time an opportunity of convincing the people that the war is justified by Scotland's treason, so causing them willingly to grant subsidies for the expense of the war. To turn from the play to history, Commissioners from the Scottish Parliament, the Earls of Loudon and Dumferling had arrived in London to ask that the acts of the Scottish Parliament might receive confirmation from the King. This question was referred to a committee of eight Privy Councillors. Propositions were made to put the Scotch Commissioners in prison; however, the King finally decided to dismiss them without treating with them. Scottish indignation of course ran high at this proceeding, and here Wentworth stepped in and won the King to his policy of ruling Scotland directly from England. "He insisted," writes Gardiner, "that a Parliament, and a Parliament alone, was the remedy fitted for the occasion. Laud and Hamilton gave him their support. He carried his point with the Committee. What was of more importance he carried it with the King." And as one writer expressed it the Lords were of the opinion that "his Majesty should make trial of that once more, that so he might leave his people without excuse, and have where withal to justify himself to God and the world that in his own inclination he desired the old way; but that if his people should not cheerfully, according to their duties, meet him in that, especially in this exigent when his kingdom and person are in apparent danger, the world might see he is forced, contrary to his own inclination, to use extraordinary means rather than, by the peevishness of some few factious spirits, to suffer his state and government to be lost."

In the play as in history, Charles now confers upon Wentworth an Earldom. Shortly after this the King "was prepared," says Gardiner, "to confer upon his faithful Minister that token of his confidence which he had twice refused before. On January 12, Wentworth received the Earldom of Strafford, and a week later he exchanged the title of Lord-Deputy of Ireland for the higher dignity of Lord-Lieutenant."

In his conference with Pym, Strafford who, in talking to Carlisle, had shown a slight wavering toward the popular party, because of finding himself so surrounded by difficulties, stands firm; this episode is a striking working up of the tradition of the friendship between these two men.

The influence of the Queen upon Charles is the last strand in this tangled skein of human destiny brought out by Browning in the scene. The Parliament that Wentworth wants she is afraid of lest it should ask for a renewal of the persecution of the Catholics. The vacillating Charles, in an instant, is ready to repudiate his interview with Wentworth, and act only to please the Queen.

SCENE II.--_Whitehall._

_+Lady+ CARLISLE and WENTWORTH_

_Wentworth._ And the King?

_Lady Carlisle._ Wentworth, lean on me! Sit then!
I'll tell you all; this horrible fatigue
Will kill you.

_Wentworth._ No;--or, Lucy, just your arm;
I'll not sit till I've cleared this up with him:
After that, rest. The King?

_Lady Carlisle._ Confides in you.

_Wentworth._ Why? or, why now?--They have kind throats, the knaves!
Shout for me--they!

_Lady Carlisle._ You come so strangely soon:
Yet we took measures to keep off the crowd--
Did they shout for you?

_Wentworth._ Wherefore should they not?
Does the King take such measures for himself?
Besides, there's such a dearth of malcontents,
You say!

_Lady Carlisle._ I said but few dared carp at you.

_Wentworth._ At me? at us, I hope! The King and I!
He's surely not disposed to let me bear
The fame away from him of these late deeds
In Ireland? I am yet his instrument
Be it for well or ill? He trusts me too!

_Lady Carlisle._ The King, dear Wentworth, purposes, I said,
To grant you, in the face of all the Court....

_Wentworth._ All the Court! Evermore the Court about us!
Savile and Holland, Hamilton and Vane
About us,--then the King will grant me--what?
That he for once put these aside and say--
"Tell me your whole mind, Wentworth!"

_Lady Carlisle._ You professed
You would be calm.

_Wentworth._ Lucy, and I am calm!
How else shall I do all I come to do,
Broken, as you may see, body and mind,
How shall I serve the King? Time wastes meanwhile,
You have not told me half. His footstep! No.
Quick, then, before I meet him,--I am calm--
Why does the King distrust me?

_Lady Carlisle._ He does not
Distrust you.

_Wentworth._ Lucy, you can help me; you
Have even seemed to care for me: one word!
Is it the Queen?

_Lady Carlisle._ No, not the Queen: the party
That poisons the Queen's ear, Savile and Holland.

_Wentworth._ I know, I know: old Vane, too, he's one too?
Go on--and he's made Secretary. Well?
Or leave them out and go straight to the charge--
The charge!

_Lady Carlisle._ Oh, there's no charge, no precise charge;
Only they sneer, make light of--one may say,
Nibble at what you do.

_Wentworth._ I know! but, Lucy,
I reckoned on you from the first!--Go on!
--Was sure could I once see this gentle friend
When I arrived, she'd throw an hour away
To help her ... what am I?

_Lady Carlisle._ You thought of me,
Dear Wentworth?

_Wentworth._ But go on! The party here!

_Lady Carlisle._ They do not think your Irish government
Of that surpassing value....

_Wentworth._ The one thing
Of value! The one service that the crown
May count on! All that keeps these very Vanes
In power, to vex me--not that they do vex,
Only it might vex some to hear that service
Decried, the sole support that's left the King!

_Lady Carlisle._ So the Archbishop says.

_Wentworth._ Ah? well, perhaps
The only hand held up in my defence
May be old Laud's! These Hollands then, these Saviles
Nibble? They nibble?--that's the very word!

_Lady Carlisle._ Your profit in the Customs, Bristol says,
Exceeds the due proportion: while the tax....

_Wentworth._ Enough! 'tis too unworthy,--I am not
So patient as I thought. What's Pym about?

_Lady Carlisle._ Pym?

_Wentworth._ Pym and the People.

_Lady Carlisle._ O, the Faction!
Extinct--of no account: there'll never be
Another Parliament.

_Wentworth._ Tell Savile that!
You may know--(ay, you do--the creatures here
Never forget!) that in my earliest life
I was not ... much that I am now! The King
May take my word on points concerning Pym
Before Lord Savile's, Lucy, or if not,
I bid them ruin their wise selves, not me,
These Vanes and Hollands! I'll not be their tool
Who might be Pym's friend yet.
But there's the King!
Where is he?

_Lady Carlisle._ Just apprised that you arrive.

_Wentworth._ And why not here to meet me? I was told
He sent for me, nay, longed for me.

_Lady Carlisle._ Because,--
He is now ... I think a Council's sitting now
About this Scots affair.

_Wentworth._ A Council sits?
They have not taken a decided course
Without me in the matter?

_Lady Carlisle._ I should say....

_Wentworth._ The war? They cannot have agreed to that?
Not the Scots' war?--without consulting me--
Me, that am here to show how rash it is,
How easy to dispense with?--Ah, you too
Against me! well,--the King may take his time.
--Forget it, Lucy! Cares make peevish: mine
Weigh me (but 'tis a secret) to my grave.

_Lady Carlisle._ For life or death I am your own, dear friend!

[_Goes out._

_Wentworth._ Heartless! but all are heartless here. Go now,
Forsake the People!
I did not forsake
The People: they shall know it, when the King
Will trust me!--who trusts all beside at once,
While I have not spoke Vane and Savile fair,
And am not trusted: have but saved the throne:
Have not picked up the Queen's glove prettily,
And am not trusted. But he'll see me now.
Weston is dead: the Queen's half English now--
More English: one decisive word will brush
These insects from ... the step I know so well!
The King! But now, to tell him ... no--to ask
What's in me he distrusts:--or, best begin
By proving that this frightful Scots affair
Is just what I foretold. So much to say,
And the flesh fails, now, and the time is come,
And one false step no way to be repaired.
You were avenged, Pym, could you look on me.

_PYM enters._

_Wentworth._ I little thought of you just then.

_Pym._ No? I
Think always of you, Wentworth.

_Wentworth._ The old voice!
I wait the King, sir.

_Pym._ True--you look so pale!
A Council sits within; when that breaks up
He'll see you.

_Wentworth._ Sir, I thank you.

_Pym._ Oh, thank Laud!
You know when Laud once gets on Church affairs
The case is desperate: he'll not be long
To-day: he only means to prove, to-day,
We English all are mad to have a hand
In butchering the Scots for serving God
After their fathers' fashion: only that!

_Wentworth._ Sir, keep your jests for those who relish them!
(Does he enjoy their confidence?) 'Tis kind
To tell me what the Council does.

_Pym._ You grudge
That I should know it had resolved on war
Before you came? no need: you shall have all
The credit, trust me!

_Wentworth._ Have the Council dared--
They have not dared ... that is--I know you not.
Farewell, sir: times are changed.

_Pym._ --Since we two met
At Greenwich? Yes: poor patriots though we be,
You cut a figure, makes some slight return
For your exploits in Ireland! Changed indeed,
Could our friend Eliot look from out his grave!
Ah, Wentworth, one thing for acquaintance' sake,
Just to decide a question; have you, now,
Felt your old self since you forsook us?

_Wentworth._ Sir!

_Pym._ Spare me the gesture! you misapprehend.
Think not I mean the advantage is with me.
I was about to say that, for my part,
I never quite held up my head since then--
Was quite myself since then: for first, you see,
I lost all credit after that event
With those who recollect how sure I was
Wentworth would outdo Eliot on our side.
Forgive me: Savile, old Vane, Holland here,
Eschew plain-speaking: 'tis a trick I keep.

_Wentworth._ How, when, where, Savile, Vane, and Holland speak,
Plainly or otherwise, would have my scorn,
All of my scorn, sir....

_Pym._ ... Did not my poor thoughts
Claim somewhat?

_Wentworth._ Keep your thoughts! believe the King
Mistrusts me for their prattle, all these Vanes
And Saviles! make your mind up, o' God's love,
That I am discontented with the King!

_Pym._ Why, you may be: I should be, that I know,
Were I like you.

_Wentworth._ Like me?

_Pym._ I care not much
For titles: our friend Eliot died no lord,
Hampden's no lord, and Savile is a lord;
But you care, since you sold your soul for one.
I can't think, therefore, your soul's purchaser
Did well to laugh you to such utter scorn
When you twice prayed so humbly for its price,
The thirty silver pieces ... I should say,
The Earldom you expected, still expect,
And may. Your letters were the movingest!
Console yourself: I've borne him prayers just now
From Scotland not to be oppressed by Laud,
Words moving in their way: he'll pay, be sure,
As much attention as to those you sent.

_Wentworth._ False, sir! Who showed them you? Suppose it so,
The King did very well ... nay, I was glad
When it was shown me: I refused, the first!
John Pym, you were my friend--forbear me once!

_Pym._ Oh, Wentworth, ancient brother of my soul,
That all should come to this!

_Wentworth._ Leave me!

_Pym._ My friend,
Why should I leave you?

_Wentworth._ To tell Rudyard this,
And Hampden this!

_Pym._ Whose faces once were bright
At my approach, now sad with doubt and fear,
Because I hope in you--yes, Wentworth, you
Who never mean to ruin England--you
Who shake off, with God's help, an obscene dream
In this Ezekiel chamber, where it crept
Upon you first, and wake, yourself, your true
And proper self, our Leader, England's Chief,
And Hampden's friend!
This is the proudest day!
Come, Wentworth! Do not even see the King!
The rough old room will seem itself again!
We'll both go in together: you've not seen
Hampden so long: come: and there's Fiennes: you'll have
To know young Vane. This is the proudest day!

[_The KING enters. WENTWORTH lets fall PYM'S hand._

_Charles._ Arrived, my lord?--This gentleman, we know
Was your old friend.
The Scots shall be informed
What we determine for their happiness.

[_PYM goes out._

You have made haste, my lord.

_Wentworth._ Sir, I am come....

_Charles._ To see an old familiar--nay, 'tis well;
Aid us with his experience: this Scots' League
And Covenant spreads too far, and we have proofs
That they intrigue with France: the Faction too,
Whereof your friend there is the head and front,
Abets them,--as he boasted, very like.

_Wentworth._ Sir, trust me! but for this once, trust me, sir!

_Charles._ What can you mean?

_Wentworth._ That you should trust me, sir!
Oh--not for my sake! but 'tis sad, so sad
That for distrusting me, you suffer--you
Whom I would die to serve: sir, do you think
That I would die to serve you?

_Charles._ But rise, Wentworth!

_Wentworth._ What shall convince you? What does Savile do
To prove him.... Ah, one can't tear out one's heart
And show it, how sincere a thing it is!

_Charles._ Have I not trusted you?

_Wentworth._ Say aught but that!
There is my comfort, mark you: all will be
So different when you trust me--as you shall!
It has not been your fault,--I was away,
Mistook, maligned, how was the King to know?
I am here, now--he means to trust me, now--
All will go on so well!

_Charles._ Be sure I do--
I've heard that I should trust you: as you came,
Your friend, the Countess, told me....

_Wentworth._ No,--hear nothing--
Be told nothing about me!--you're not told
Your right-hand serves you, or your children love you!

_Charles._ You love me, Wentworth: rise!

_Wentworth._ I can speak now.
I have no right to hide the truth. 'Tis I
Can save you: only I. Sir, what must be?

_Charles._ Since Laud's assured (the minutes are within)
--Loath as I am to spill my subjects' blood....

_Wentworth._ That is, he'll have a war: what's done is done!

_Charles._ They have intrigued with France; that's clear to Laud.

_Wentworth._ Has Laud suggested any way to meet
The war's expense?

_Charles._ He'd not decide so far
Until you joined us.

_Wentworth._ Most considerate!
He's certain they intrigue with France, these Scots?
The People would be with us.

_Charles._ Pym should know.

_Wentworth._ The People for us--were the People for us!
Sir, a great thought comes to reward your trust:
Summon a Parliament! in Ireland first,
Then, here.

_Charles._ In truth?

_Wentworth._ That saves us! that puts off
The war, gives time to right their grievances--
To talk with Pym. I know the Faction,--Laud
So styles it,--tutors Scotland: all their plans
Suppose no Parliament: in calling one
You take them by surprise. Produce the proofs
Of Scotland's treason; then bid England help:
Even Pym will not refuse.

_Charles._ You would begin
With Ireland?

_Wentworth._ Take no care for that: that's sure
To prosper.

_Charles._ You shall rule me. You were best
Return at once: but take this ere you go!
Now, do I trust you? You're an Earl: my Friend
Of Friends: yes, while.... You hear me not!

_Wentworth._ Say it all o'er again--but once again:
The first was for the music: once again!

_Charles._ Strafford, my friend, there may have been reports,
Vain rumors. Henceforth touching Strafford is
To touch the apple of my sight: why gaze
So earnestly?

_Wentworth._ I am grown young again,
And foolish. What was it we spoke of?

_Charles._ Ireland,
The Parliament,--

_Wentworth._ I may go when I will?
--Now?

_Charles._ Are you tired so soon of us?

_Wentworth._ My King!
But you will not so utterly abhor
A Parliament? I'd serve you any way.

_Charles._ You said just now this was the only way.

_Wentworth._ Sir, I will serve you.

_Charles._ Strafford, spare yourself:
You are so sick, they tell me.

_Wentworth._ 'Tis my soul
That's well and prospers now.
This Parliament--
We'll summon it, the English one--I'll care
For everything. You shall not need them much.

_Charles._ If they prove restive....

_Wentworth._ I shall be with you.

_Charles._ Ere they assemble?

_Wentworth._ I will come, or else
Deposit this infirm humanity
I' the dust. My whole heart stays with you, my King!

[_As WENTWORTH goes out, the QUEEN enters._

_Charles._ That man must love me.

_Queen._ Is it over then?
Why, he looks yellower than ever! Well,
At least we shall not hear eternally
Of service--services: he's paid at least.

_Charles._ Not done with: he engages to surpass
All yet performed in Ireland.

_Queen._ I had thought
Nothing beyond was ever to be done.
The war, Charles--will he raise supplies enough?

_Charles._ We've hit on an expedient; he ... that is,
I have advised ... we have decided on
The calling--in Ireland--of a Parliament.

_Queen._ O truly! You agree to that? Is that
The first fruit of his counsel? But I guessed
As much.

_Charles._ This is too idle, Henriette!
I should know best. He will strain every nerve,
And once a precedent established....

_Queen._ Notice
How sure he is of a long term of favor!
He'll see the next, and the next after that;
No end to Parliaments!

_Charles._ Well, it is done.
He talks it smoothly, doubtless. If, indeed,
The Commons here....

_Queen._ Here! you will summon them
Here? Would I were in France again to see
A King!

_Charles._ But, Henriette....

_Queen._ Oh, the Scots see clear!
Why should they bear your rule?

_Charles._ But listen, sweet!

_Queen._ Let Wentworth listen--you confide in him!

_Charles._ I do not, love,--I do not so confide!
The Parliament shall never trouble us
... Nay, hear me! I have schemes, such schemes: we'll buy
The leaders off: without that, Wentworth's counsel
Had ne'er prevailed on me. Perhaps I call it
To have excuse for breaking it for ever,
And whose will then the blame be? See you not?
Come, dearest!--look, the little fairy, now,
That cannot reach my shoulder! Dearest, come!

In the second act, the historical episode, which pervades the act is the assembling and the dissolution of the Short Parliament. Only the salient points of the political situation have been seized upon by Browning. As in the first act, the popular party in private conclave is introduced. From the talk it is gathered that feeling runs high against Strafford, by whose advice the Parliament had been called, because of the exorbitant demands made upon it for money to support an army, this army to crush Scotland whose cause was so nearly like its own. The popular party or the Faction had supposed the Parliament would be a means for the redressing of its long list of grievances which had been accumulating during the years since the last Parliament had been held. Instead of that the Commons was deliberately informed by Charles that there would be no discussions of its demands until it had granted the subsidies for which it had been asked. The play gives one a much more lively sense of the indignant feelings of the duped men than can possibly be gained by reading many more pages of history with its endless minor details. Upon this gathering, Pym suddenly enters again, and to the reproaches of him for his belief in Strafford, makes the reply that the Parliament has been dissolved, the King has cast Strafford off forever, and henceforth Strafford will be on their side,--a conclusion not warranted by history, and, of course, found out to be erroneous by Pym and his followers in the next scene. Again there is the dramatic need to emphasize the human side of life even in an essentially political play, by showing that Pym's friendship and loyalty to Wentworth were no uncertain elements in his character. The moment it could be proved beyond a doubt that Wentworth was in the eyes of Pym, England's enemy, that moment Pym knew it would become his painful duty to crush Wentworth utterly, therefore Pym had for his own conscience' sake to make the uttermost trial of his faith.

The second scene, as in the first act, brings out the other side. It is in the main true to history though much condensed. History relates that after the Short Parliament was dissolved, "voices were raised at Whitehall in condemnation of Strafford." His policy of raising subsidies from the Parliament having failed, criticisms would, of course, be made upon his having pushed ahead a war without the proper means of sustaining it. Charles himself was also frightened by the manifestations of popular discontent and failed to uphold Wentworth in his policy.

Northumberland had been appointed commander-in-chief of the army, but besides having little heart for an enterprise so badly prepared for, he was ill in bed and could not take command of the army, so the King appointed Strafford in his place. A hint of Strafford as he appears in this scene may be taken from Clarendon who writes "The earl of Strafford was scarce recovered from a great sickness, yet was willing to undertake the charge out of pure indignation to see how few men were forward to serve the King with that vigor of mind they ought to do; but knowing well the malicious designs which were contrived against himself, he would rather serve as lieutenant-general under the earl of Northumberland, than that he should resign his commission: and so, with and under that qualification, he made all possible haste towards the north before he had strength enough for the journey." Browning makes the King tell Strafford in this interview that he has dissolved the Parliament. He represents Strafford as horrified by the news and driven in this extremity to suggest the desperate measure of debasing the coinage as a means of obtaining funds. Strafford actually counseled this, when all else failed, namely, the proposed loan from the city, and one from the Spanish government, but, according to history, he himself voted for the dissolution of Parliament, though the play is accurate in laying the necessity of the dissolution at the door of old Vane. It was truly his ill-judged vehemence, for, not able to brook the arguments of the Commons, "He rose," says Gardiner, "to state that the King would accept nothing less than the twelve subsidies which he had demanded in his message. Upon this the Committee broke up without coming to a resolution, postponing further consideration of the matter to the following day." The next morning the King who had called his councillors together early "announced his intention of proceeding to a dissolution. Strafford, who arrived late, begged that the question might first be seriously discussed, and that the opinions of the Councillors, who were also members of the Lower House, might first be heard. Vane declared that there was no hope that the Commons 'would give one penny.' On this the votes were taken. Northumberland and Holland were alone in wishing to avert a dissolution. Supported by the rest of the Council the King hurried to the House of Lords and dissolved Parliament."

Wholly imaginary is the episode in this scene where Pym and his followers break in upon the interview of Wentworth and the King. Just at the climax of Wentworth's sorrowful rage at the King's treatment of him, they come to claim Wentworth for their side.

That you would say I did advise the war;
And if, through your own weakness, or what's worse,
These Scots, with God to help them, drive me back,
You will not step between the raging People
And me, to say....
I knew it! from the first
I knew it! Never was so cold a heart!
Remember that I said it--that I never
Believed you for a moment!
--And, you loved me?
You thought your perfidy profoundly hid
Because I could not share the whisperings
With Vane, with Savile? What, the face was masked?
I had the heart to see, sir! Face of flesh,
But heart of stone--of smooth cold frightful stone!
Ay, call them! Shall I call for you? The Scots
Goaded to madness? Or the English--Pym--
Shall I call Pym, your subject? Oh, you think
I'll leave them in the dark about it all?
They shall not know you? Hampden, Pym shall not?

_PYM, HAMPDEN, VANE, etc., enter._

[_Dropping on his knee._] Thus favored with your gracious countenance
What shall a rebel League avail against
Your servant, utterly and ever yours?
So, gentlemen, the King's not even left
The privilege of bidding me farewell
Who haste to save the People--that you style
Your People--from the mercies of the Scots
And France their friend?
[_To CHARLES._] Pym's grave grey eyes are fixed
Upon you, sir!
Your pleasure, gentlemen?

_Hampden._ The King dissolved us--'tis the King we seek
And not Lord Strafford.

_Strafford._ --Strafford, guilty too
Of counselling the measure. [_To CHARLES._] (Hush ... you know--
You have forgotten--sir, I counselled it)
A heinous matter, truly! But the King
Will yet see cause to thank me for a course
Which now, perchance ... (Sir, tell them so!)--he blames.
Well, choose some fitter time to make your charge:
I shall be with the Scots, you understand?
Then yelp at me!
Meanwhile, your Majesty
Binds me, by this fresh token of your trust....

[_Under the pretence of an earnest farewell, STRAFFORD conducts CHARLES to the door, in such a manner as to hide his agitation from the rest: as the King disappears, they turn as by one impulse to PYM, who has not changed his original posture of surprise._

_Hampden._ Leave we this arrogant strong wicked man!

_Vane and others._ Hence, Pym! Come out of this unworthy place
To our old room again! He's gone.

[_STRAFFORD, just about to follow the KING, looks back._

_Pym._ Not gone!
[_To STRAFFORD._] Keep tryst! the old appointment's made anew:
Forget not we shall meet again!

_Strafford._ So be it!
And if an army follows me?

_Vane._ His friends
Will entertain your army!

_Pym._ I'll not say
You have misreckoned, Strafford: time shows.
Perish
Body and spirit! Fool to feign a doubt,
Pretend the scrupulous and nice reserve
Of one whose prowess shall achieve the feat!
What share have I in it? Do I affect
To see no dismal sign above your head
When God suspends his ruinous thunder there?
Strafford is doomed. Touch him no one of you!

[_PYM, HAMPDEN, etc., go out._

_Strafford._ Pym, we shall meet again!

In the final talk of this scene with Carlisle, the pathos of Strafford's position is wonderfully brought out--the man who loves his King so overmuch that no perfidy on the King's part can make his resolution to serve him waver for an instant.

_+Lady+ CARLISLE enters._

You here, child?

_Lady Carlisle._ Hush--
I know it all: hush, Strafford!

_Strafford._ Ah? you know?
Well. I shall make a sorry soldier, Lucy!
All knights begin their enterprise, we read,
Under the best of auspices; 'tis morn,
The Lady girds his sword upon the Youth
(He's always very young)--the trumpets sound,
Cups pledge him, and, why, the King blesses him--
You need not turn a page of the romance
To learn the Dreadful Giant's fate. Indeed,
We've the fair Lady here; but she apart,--
A poor man, rarely having handled lance,
And rather old, weary, and far from sure
His Squires are not the Giant's friends. All's one:
Let us go forth!

_Lady Carlisle._ Go forth?

_Strafford._ What matters it?
We shall die gloriously--as the book says.

_Lady Carlisle._ To Scotland? Not to Scotland?

_Strafford._ Am I sick
Like your good brother, brave Northumberland?
Beside, these walls seem falling on me.

_Lady Carlisle._ Strafford,
The wind that saps these walls can undermine
Your camp in Scotland, too. Whence creeps the wind?
Have you no eyes except for Pym? Look here!
A breed of silken creatures lurk and thrive
In your contempt. You'll vanquish Pym? Old Vane
Can vanquish you. And Vane you think to fly?
Rush on the Scots! Do nobly! Vane's slight sneer
Shall test success, adjust the praise, suggest
The faint result: Vane's sneer shall reach you there.
--You do not listen!

_Strafford._ Oh,--I give that up!
There's fate in it: I give all here quite up.
Care not what old Vane does or Holland does
Against me! 'Tis so idle to withstand!
In no case tell me what they do!

_Lady Carlisle._ But, Strafford....

_Strafford._ I want a little strife, beside; real strife;
This petty palace-warfare does me harm:
I shall feel better, fairly out of it.

_Lady Carlisle._ Why do you smile?

_Strafford._ I got to fear them, child!
I could have torn his throat at first, old Vane's,
As he leered at me on his stealthy way
To the Queen's closet. Lord, one loses heart!
I often found it on my lips to say
"Do not traduce me to her!"

_Lady Carlisle._ But the King....

_Strafford._ The King stood there, 'tis not so long ago,
--There; and the whisper, Lucy, "Be my friend
Of friends!"--My King! I would have....

_Lady Carlisle._ ... Died for him?

_Strafford._ Sworn him true, Lucy: I can die for him.

_Lady Carlisle._ But go not, Strafford! But you must renounce
This project on the Scots! Die, wherefore die?
Charles never loved you.

_Strafford._ And he never will.
He's not of those who care the more for men
That they're unfortunate.

_Lady Carlisle._ Then wherefore die
For such a master?

_Strafford._ You that told me first
How good he was--when I must leave true friends
To find a truer friend!--that drew me here
From Ireland,--"I had but to show myself
And Charles would spurn Vane, Savile, and the rest"--
You, child, to ask me this?

_Lady Carlisle._ (If he have set
His heart abidingly on Charles!)
Then, friend,
I shall not see you any more.

_Strafford._ Yes, Lucy.
There's one man here I have to meet.

_Lady Carlisle._ (The King!
What way to save him from the King?
My soul--
That lent from its own store the charmed disguise
Which clothes the King--he shall behold my soul!)
Strafford,--I shall speak best if you'll not gaze
Upon me: I had never thought, indeed,
To speak, but you would perish too, so sure!
Could you but know what 'tis to bear, my friend,
One image stamped within you, turning blank
The else imperial brilliance of your mind,--
A weakness, but most precious,--like a flaw
I' the diamond, which should shape forth some sweet face
Yet to create, and meanwhile treasured there
Lest nature lose her gracious thought for ever!

_Strafford._ When could it be? no! Yet ... was it the day
We waited in the anteroom, till Holland
Should leave the presence-chamber?

_Lady Carlisle._ What?

_Strafford._ --That I
Described to you my love for Charles?

_Lady Carlisle._ (Ah, no--
One must not lure him from a love like that!
Oh, let him love the King and die! 'Tis past.
I shall not serve him worse for that one brief
And passionate hope, silent for ever now!)
And you are really bound for Scotland then?
I wish you well: you must be very sure
Of the King's faith, for Pym and all his crew
Will not be idle--setting Vane aside!

_Strafford._ If Pym is busy,--you may write of Pym.

_Lady Carlisle._ What need, since there's your King to take your part?
He may endure Vane's counsel; but for Pym--
Think you he'll suffer Pym to....

_Strafford._ Child, your hair
Is glossier than the Queen's!

_Lady Carlisle._ Is that to ask
A curl of me?

_Strafford._ Scotland----the weary way!

_Lady Carlisle._ Stay, let me fasten it.
--A rival's, Strafford?

_Strafford_ [_showing the George_]. He hung it there: twine yours
around it, child!

_Lady Carlisle._ No--no--another time--I trifle so!
And there's a masque on foot. Farewell. The Court
Is dull; do something to enliven us
In Scotland: we expect it at your hands.

_Strafford._ I shall not fail in Scotland.

_Lady Carlisle._ Prosper--if
You'll think of me sometimes!

_Strafford._ How think of him
And not of you? of you, the lingering streak
(A golden one) in my good fortune's eve.

_Lady Carlisle._ Strafford.... Well, when the eve has its last streak
The night has its first star.

[_She goes out._

_Strafford._ That voice of hers--
You'd think she had a heart sometimes! His voice
Is soft too.
Only God can save him now.
Be Thou about his bed, about his path!
His path! Where's England's path? Diverging wide,
And not to join again the track my foot
Must follow--whither? All that forlorn way
Among the tombs! Far--far--till.... What, they do
Then join again, these paths? For, huge in the dusk,
There's--Pym to face!
Why then, I have a foe
To close with, and a fight to fight at last
Worthy my soul! What, do they beard the King,
And shall the King want Strafford at his need?
Am I not here?
Not in the market-place,
Pressed on by the rough artisans, so proud
To catch a glance from Wentworth! They lie down
Hungry yet smile "Why, it must end some day:
Is he not watching for our sake?" Not there!
But in Whitehall, the whited sepulchre,
The....
Curse nothing to-night! Only one name
They'll curse in all those streets to-night. Whose fault?
Did I make kings? set up, the first, a man
To represent the multitude, receive
All love in right of them--supplant them so,
Until you love the man and not the king----
The man with the mild voice and mournful eyes
Which send me forth.
--To breast the bloody sea
That sweeps before me: with one star for guide.
Night has its first, supreme, forsaken star.

During the third act, the long Parliament is in session, and Pym is making his great speech impeaching Wentworth.