There has been no Parliament in England for ten years, hence the people have had no say in the direction of the government. The growing dissatisfaction of the people at being thus deprived of their rights focussed itself upon the question of "ship-money." The taxes levied by the King for the maintainance of a fleet were loudly objected to upon all sides. That a fleet was a necessary means of protection in those threatening times is not to be doubted, but the objections of the people were grounded upon the fact that the King levied these taxes upon his own authority. "Ship-money, it was loudly declared," says Gardiner, "was undeniably a tax, and the ancient customs of the realm, recently embodied in the Petition of Right, had announced with no doubtful voice that no tax could be levied without consent of Parliament. Even this objection was not the full measure of the evil. If Charles could take this money without the consent of Parliament, he need not, unless some unforeseen emergency arose, ever summon a Parliament again. The true question at issue was whether Parliament formed an integral part of the Constitution or not." Other taxes were objected to on the same grounds, and the more determined the King was not to summon a Parliament, the greater became the political ferment.



At the same time the religious ferment was centering itself upon hatred of Laud, the Archbishop of Canterbury. His policy was to silence opposition to the methods of worship then followed by the Church of England, by the terrors of the Star Chamber. The Puritans were smarting under the sentence which had been passed upon the three pamphleteers, William Prynne, Henry Burton, and John Bastwick, who had expressed their opinions of the practises of the church with great outspokenness. Prynne called upon pious King Charles "to do justice on the whole Episcopal order by which he had been robbed of the love of God and of his people, and which aimed at plucking the crown from his head, that they might set it on their own ambitious pates." Burton hinted that "the sooner the office of the Bishops was abolished the better it would be for the nation." Bastwick, who had been brought up in the straitest principles of Puritanism, had ended his pamphlet "Flagellum Pontificis," with this outburst, "Take notice, so far am I from flying or fearing, as I resolve to make war against the Beast, and every hint of Antichrist, all the days of my life. If I die in that battle, so much the sooner I shall be sent in a chariot of triumph to heaven; and when I come there, I will, with those that are under the altar cry, 'How long, Lord, holy and true, dost Thou not judge and avenge our blood upon them that dwell upon the earth?'"

These men were called before the Star Chamber upon a charge of libel. The sentence was a foregone conclusion, and was so outrageous that its result could only be the strengthening of opposition. The "muckworm" Cottington, as Browning calls him, suggested the sentence which was carried out. The men were condemned to lose their ears, to pay a fine of L5000 each, and to be imprisoned for the remainder of their lives in the castles of Carnarvon, Launceston, and Lancaster. Finch, not satisfied with this, added the savage wish that Prynne should be branded on the cheek with the letters S. L., to stand for "seditious libeller," and this was also done.

The account of the execution of this sentence is almost too horrible to read. Some one who recorded the scene wrote, "The humours of the people were various; some wept, some laughed, and some were very reserved." Prynne, whose sufferings had been greatest for he had been burned as well as having his ears taken off, was yet able to indulge in a grim piece of humor touching the letters S. L. branded on his cheeks. He called them "Stigmata Laudis," the "Scars of Laud," on his way back to prison. Popular demonstrations in favor of the prisoners were made all along the road when they were taken to their respective prisons, where they were allowed neither pen, ink nor books. Fearful lest they might somehow still disseminate their heretical doctrines to the outer world, the council removed them to still more distant prisons, in the Scilly Isles, in Guernsey and in Jersey. Retaliation against this treatment found open expression. "A copy of the Star Chamber decree was nailed to a board. Its corners were cut off as the ears of Laud's victims had been cut off at Westminster. A broad ink mark was drawn round Laud's name. An inscription declared that 'The man that puts the saints of God into a pillory of wood stands here in a pillory of ink!'"

Things were brought to a crisis in Scotland also, through hatred of Laud and the new prayer-book. The King, upon his visit to Scotland, had been shocked at the slovenly appearance and the slovenly ritual of the Scottish Church, which reflected strongly survivals of the Presbyterianism of an earlier time. The King wrote to the Scottish Bishops soon after his return to England: "We, tendering the good and peace of that Church by having good and decent order and discipline observed therein, whereby religion and God's worship may increase, and considering that there is nothing more defective in that Church than the want of a Book of Common Prayer and uniform service to be kept in all the churches thereof, and the want of canons for the uniformity of the same, we are hereby pleased to authorise you as the representative body of that Church, and do herewith will and require you to condescend upon a form of Church service to be used therein, and to set down the canons for the uniformity of the discipline thereof." Laud, who as Archbishop of Canterbury had no jurisdiction over Scottish Bishops, put his finger into the pie as secretary of the King. As Gardiner says, "He conveyed instructions to the Bishops, remonstrated with proceedings which shocked his sense of order, and held out prospects of advancement to the zealous. Scotchmen naturally took offense. They did not trouble themselves to distinguish between the secretary and the archbishop. They simply said that the Pope of Canterbury was as bad as the Pope of Rome."

The upshot of it all was that in May, 1637, the "new Prayer-book" was sent to Scotland, and every minister was ordered to buy two copies on pain of outlawry. Riots followed. It was finally decided that it must be settled once for all whether a King had any right to change the forms of worship without the sanction of a legislative assembly. Then came the Scottish Covenant which declared the intention of the signers to uphold religious liberty. The account of the signing of this covenant is one of the most impressive episodes in all history. The Covenant was carried on the 28th of February, 1638, to the Grey Friars' Church to which all the gentlemen present in Edinburgh had been summoned. The scene has been most sympathetically described by Gardiner.

"At four o'clock in the grey winter evening, the noblemen, the Earl of Sutherland leading the way began to sign. Then came the gentlemen, one after the other until nearly eight. The next day the ministers were called on to testify their approval, and nearly three hundred signatures were obtained before night. The Commissioners of the boroughs signed at the same time.

"On the third day the people of Edinburgh were called on to attest their devotion to the cause which was represented by the Covenant. Tradition long loved to tell how the honored parchment, carried back to the Grey Friars, was laid out on a tombstone in the churchyard, whilst weeping multitudes pressed round in numbers too great to be contained in any building. There are moments when the stern Scottish nature breaks out into an enthusiasm less passionate, but more enduring, than the frenzy of a Southern race. As each man and woman stepped forward in turn, with the right hand raised to heaven before the pen was grasped, every one there present knew that there would be no flinching amongst that band of brothers till their religion was safe from intrusive violence.

"Modern narrators may well turn their attention to the picturesqueness of the scene, to the dark rocks of the Castle crag over against the churchyard, and to the earnest faces around. The men of the seventeenth century had no thought to spare for the earth beneath or for the sky above. What they saw was their country's faith trodden under foot, what they felt was the joy of those who had been long led astray, and had now returned to the Shepherd and Bishop of their souls."

Such were the conditions that brought on the Scotch war, neither Charles nor Wentworth being wise enough to make concessions to the Covenanters.

The grievances against the King's Minister Wentworth are in this opening scene shown as being aggravated by the fact that the men of the "Faction" regard him as a deserter from their cause, Pym, himself being one of the number who is loth to think Wentworth stands for the King's policy.

The historical ground for the assumption lies in the fact that Wentworth was one of the leaders of the opposition in the Parliament of 1628.

The reason for this was largely personal, because of Buckingham's treatment of him. Wentworth had refused to take part in the collection of the forced loan of 1626, and was dismissed from his official posts in consequence. When he further refused to subscribe to that loan himself he was imprisoned in the Marshalsea and at Depford. Regarding himself as personally attacked by Buckingham, he joined the opposition. Yet, as Firth points out, "fiercely as he attacked the King's ministers, he was careful to exonerate the King." He concludes his list of grievances by saying, "This hath not been done by the King, but by projectors." Again, "Whether we shall look upon the King or his people, it did never more behove this great physician the parliament, to effect a true consent amongst the parties than now. Both are injured, both to be cured. By one and the same thing hath the King and people been hurt. I speak truly both for the interest of the King and the people."

His intention was to find some means of cooperation which would leave the people their liberty and yet give the crown its prerogative, "Let us make what laws we can, there must—nay, there will be a trust left in the crown."

It will be seen by any unbiased critic that Wentworth was only half for the people even at this time. On the other hand, it is not astonishing that men, heart and soul for the people, should consider Wentworth's subsequent complete devotion to the cause of the King sufficient to brand him as an apostate. The fact that he received so many official dignities from the King also leant color to the supposition that personal ambition was a leading motive with him. With true dramatic instinct Browning has centered this feeling and made the most of it in the attitude of Pym's party, while he offsets it later in the play by showing us the reality of the man Strafford.

There is no very authentic source for the idea also brought out in this first scene that Strafford and Pym had been warm personal friends. The story is told by Dr. James Welwood, one of the physicians of William III., who, in the year 1700, published a volume entitled "Memoirs, of the most material transactions in England for the last hundred years preceding the Revolution of 1688." Without mentioning any source he tells the following story; "There had been a long and intimate friendship between Mr. Pym and him [Wentworth], and they had gone hand in hand in everything in the House of Commons. But when Sir Thomas Wentworth was upon making his peace with the Court, he sent to Pym to meet him alone at Greenwich; where he began in a set speech to sound Mr. Pym about the dangers they were like to run by the courses they were in; and what advantages they might have if they would but listen to some offers which would probably be made them from the Court. Pym understanding his speech stopped him short with this expression: 'You need not use all this art to tell me you have a mind to leave us; but remember what I tell you, you are going to be undone. But remember, that though you leave us now I will never leave you while your head is upon your shoulders.'"

Though only a tradition this was entirely too useful a suggestion not to be used. The intensity of the situation between the leaders on opposite sides is enhanced tenfold by bringing into the field a personal sentiment.

The attitude of Pym's followers is reflected again in their opinion of Wentworth's Irish rule. Although Wentworth's policy seemed to be successful in Ireland, the very fact of its success would condemn it in the eyes of the popular party; besides later developments revealed its weaknesses. How it appeared to the eyes of a non-fanatical observer at this time may be gathered from the following letter of Sir Thomas Roe to the Queen of Bohemia, written in 1634.

"The Lord Deputy of Ireland doth great wonders, and governs like a King, and hath taught that Kingdom to show us an example of envy, by having parliaments, and knowing wisely how to use them; for they have given the King six subsidies, which will arise to L240,000, and they are like to have the liberty we contended for, and grace from his Majesty worth their gift double; and which is worth much more, the honor of good intelligence and love between the King and people, which I would to God our great wits had had eyes to see. This is a great service, and to give your Majesty a character of the man,—he is severe abroad and in business, and sweet in private conversation; retired in his friendships, but very firm; a terrible judge and a strong enemy; a servant violently zealous in his Master's ends, and not negligent of his own; one that will have what he will, and though of great reason, he can make his will greater when it may serve him; affecting glory by a seeming contempt; one that cannot stay long in the middle region of fortune, being entreprenant; but will either be the greatest man in England, or much less than he is; lastly, one that may (and his nature lies fit for it, for he is ambitious to do what others will not), do your Majesty very great service, if you can make him."

In order to be in sympathy with the play throughout and especially with the first scene all this historical background must be kept in mind, for the talk gives no direct information, it merely in an absolutely dramatic fashion reveals the feelings and opinions of the men upon the situation, just as friends at a dinner party might discuss one of our own less strenuous political situations—all present being perfectly familiar with the issues at stake.

STRAFFORD

ACT I

SCENE I.—A House near Whitehall.

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.

The conditions of affairs at the time of this Parliament were well-nigh desperate for Charles and Wentworth. Things had not gone well with the Scottish war and Wentworth was falling more and more into disfavor. England was now threatened with a Scottish invasion. Still, even with this danger to face it was impossible to raise money to support the army. The English had a suspicion that the Scotch cause was their own. The universal demand for a Parliament could no longer be ignored; the King, therefore, summoned it to meet on the third of November. As Firth observes, "To Strafford this meant ruin, but he hardly realized the greatness of the danger in which he stood. On October 8, the Scotch Commissioners in a public paper denounced him as an incendiary, and declared that they meant to insist on his punishment.

"As soon as the Parliament opened Charles discovered that it was necessary for his service to have Strafford again by his side, and summoned him to London. There is evidence that his friends urged him to pass over to Ireland where the army rested at his devotion, or to transport himself to foreign Kingdoms till fairer weather here should invite him home. The Marquis of Hamilton advised him to fly, but as Hamilton told the King, the Earl was too great-hearted to fear. Though conscious of the peril of obedience, he set out to London to stand by his Master."

The enmity of the Court party to Strafford is touched upon in the first scene, and in the second, Strafford's return, unsuspecting of the great blow that awaits him. He had indeed meditated a blow on his own part. According to Firth, he felt that "One desperate resource remained. The intrigues of the parliamentary leaders with the Scots had come to Strafford's knowledge, and he had determined to impeach them of high treason. He could prove that Pym and his friends had secretly communicated with the rebels, and invited them to bring a Scottish army into England. Strafford arrived in London on Monday, November 9, 1640, and spent Tuesday in resting after his journey. On the morning of Wednesday the 11th, he took his seat in the House of Lords, but did not strike the blow." Upon that day he was impeached of high treason by Pym. Gardiner's account here has much the same dramatic force as the play.

"Followed by a crowd of approving members, Pym carried up the message. Whilst the Lords were still debating on this unusual request for imprisonment before the charge had been set forth, the news of the impeachment was carried to Strafford. 'I will go,' he proudly said 'and look my accusers in the face.' With haughty mien and scowling brow he strode up the floor of the House to his place of honor. There were those amongst the Peers who had no wish to allow him to speak, lest he should accuse them of complicity with the Scots. The Lords, as a body, felt even more personally aggrieved by his method of government than the Commons. Shouts of 'Withdraw! withdraw!' rose from every side. As soon as he was gone an order was passed sequestering the Lord-Lieutenant from his place in the House and committing him to the custody of the Gentleman Usher. He was then called in and bidden to kneel whilst the order was read. He asked permission to speak, but his request was sternly refused. Maxwell, the Usher of the Black Rod, took from him his sword, and conducted him out of the House. The crowd outside gazed pitilessly on the fallen minister, 'No man capping to him, before whom that morning the greatest in England would have stood dis-covered.' 'What is the matter?' they asked. 'A small matter, I warrant you,' replied Strafford with forced levity. 'Yes, indeed,' answered a bystander, 'high treason is a small matter.'"

This passage brings up the scene in a manner so similar to that of the play, it is safe to say that Gardiner was here influenced by Browning, the history having been written many years after the play.

SCENE II.—Whitehall.

The QUEEN and Lady CARLISLE.

Queen. It cannot be.

Lady Carlisle. It is so.

Queen. Why, the House Have hardly met.

Lady Carlisle. They met for that.

Queen. No, no! Meet to impeach Lord Strafford? 'Tis a jest.

Lady Carlisle. A bitter one.

Queen. Consider! 'Tis the House We summoned so reluctantly, which nothing But the disastrous issue of the war Persuaded us to summon. They'll wreak all Their spite on us, no doubt; but the old way Is to begin by talk of grievances: They have their grievances to busy them.

Lady Carlisle. Pym has begun his speech.

Queen. Where's Vane?—That is, Pym will impeach Lord Strafford if he leaves His Presidency; he's at York, we know, Since the Scots beat him: why should he leave York?

Lady Carlisle. Because the King sent for him.

Queen. Ah—but if The King did send for him, he let him know We had been forced to call a Parliament— A step which Strafford, now I come to think, Was vehement against.

Lady Carlisle. The policy Escaped him, of first striking Parliaments To earth, then setting them upon their feet And giving them a sword: but this is idle. Did the King send for Strafford? He will come.

Queen. And what am I to do?

Lady Carlisle. What do? Fail, madam! Be ruined for his sake! what matters how, So it but stand on record that you made An effort, only one?

Queen. The King away At Theobald's!

Lady Carlisle. Send for him at once: he must Dissolve the House.

Queen. Wait till Vane finds the truth Of the report: then....

Lady Carlisle. —It will matter little What the King does. Strafford that lends his arm And breaks his heart for you!

Sir H. VANE enters.

Vane. The Commons, madam, Are sitting with closed doors. A huge debate, No lack of noise; but nothing, I should guess, Concerning Strafford: Pym has certainly Not spoken yet.

Queen [to Lady CARLISLE]. You hear?

Lady Carlisle. I do not hear That the King's sent for!

Vane. Savile will be able To tell you more.

HOLLAND enters.

Queen. The last news, Holland?

Holland. Pym Is raging like a fire. The whole House means To follow him together to Whitehall And force the King to give up Strafford.

Queen. Strafford?

Holland. If they content themselves with Strafford! Laud Is talked of, Cottington and Windebank too. Pym has not left out one of them—I would You heard Pym raging!

Queen. Vane, go find the King! Tell the King, Vane, the People follow Pym To brave us at Whitehall!

SAVILE enters.

Savile. Not to Whitehall— 'Tis to the Lords they go: they seek redress On Strafford from his peers—the legal way, They call it.

Queen. (Wait, Vane!)

Savile. But the adage gives Long life to threatened men. Strafford can save Himself so readily: at York, remember, In his own country: what has he to fear? The Commons only mean to frighten him From leaving York. Surely, he will not come.

Queen. Lucy, he will not come!

Lady Carlisle. Once more, the King Has sent for Strafford. He will come.

Vane. Oh doubtless! And bring destruction with him: that's his way. What but his coming spoilt all Conway's plan? The King must take his counsel, choose his friends, Be wholly ruled by him! What's the result? The North that was to rise, Ireland to help,— What came of it? In my poor mind, a fright Is no prodigious punishment.

Lady Carlisle. A fright? Pym will fail worse than Strafford if he thinks To frighten him. [To the QUEEN.] You will not save him then?

Savile. When something like a charge is made, the King Will best know how to save him: and t'is clear, While Strafford suffers nothing by the matter, The King may reap advantage: this in question, No dinning you with ship-money complaints!

Queen [to Lady CARLISLE]. If we dissolve them, who will pay the army? Protect us from the insolent Scots?

Lady Carlisle. In truth, I know not, madam. Strafford's fate concerns Me little: you desired to learn what course Would save him: I obey you.

Vane. Notice, too, There can't be fairer ground for taking full Revenge—(Strafford's revengeful)—than he'll have Against his old friend Pym.

Queen. Why, he shall claim Vengeance on Pym!

Vane. And Strafford, who is he To 'scape unscathed amid the accidents That harass all beside? I, for my part, Should look for something of discomfiture Had the King trusted me so thoroughly And been so paid for it.

Holland. He'll keep at York: All will blow over: he'll return no worse, Humbled a little, thankful for a place Under as good a man. Oh, we'll dispense With seeing Strafford for a month or two!

STRAFFORD enters.

Queen. You here!

Strafford. The King sends for me, madam.

Queen. Sir, The King....

Strafford. An urgent matter that imports the King! [To Lady CARLISLE.] Why, Lucy, what's in agitation now, That all this muttering and shrugging, see, Begins at me? They do not speak!

Lady Carlisle. 'Tis welcome! For we are proud of you—happy and proud To have you with us, Strafford! You were staunch At Durham: you did well there! Had you not Been stayed, you might have ... we said, even now, Our hope's in you!

Vane [to Lady CARLISLE]. The Queen would speak with you.

Strafford. Will one of you, his servants here, vouchsafe To signify my presence to the King?

Savile. An urgent matter?

Strafford. None that touches you, Lord Savile! Say, it were some treacherous Sly pitiful intriguing with the Scots— You would go free, at least! (They half divine My purpose!) Madam, shall I see the King? The service I would render, much concerns His welfare.

Queen. But his Majesty, my lord, May not be here, may....

Strafford. Its importance, then, Must plead excuse for this withdrawal, madam, And for the grief it gives Lord Savile here.

Queen [who has been conversing with VANE and HOLLAND]. The King will see you, sir! [To Lady CARLISLE.] Mark me: Pym's worst Is done by now: he has impeached the Earl, Or found the Earl too strong for him, by now. Let us not seem instructed! We should work No good to Strafford, but deform ourselves With shame in the world's eye. [To STRAFFORD.] His Majesty Has much to say with you.

Strafford. Time fleeting, too! [To Lady CARLISLE.] No means of getting them away? And She— What does she whisper? Does she know my purpose? What does she think of it? Get them away!

Queen [to Lady CARLISLE]. He comes to baffle Pym—he thinks the danger Far off: tell him no word of it! a time For help will come; we'll not be wanting then. Keep him in play, Lucy—you, self-possessed And calm! [To STRAFFORD.] To spare your lordship some delay I will myself acquaint the King. [To Lady CARLISLE.] Beware!

[The QUEEN, VANE, HOLLAND, and SAVILE go out.

Strafford. She knows it?

Lady Carlisle. Tell me, Strafford!

Strafford. Afterward! This moment's the great moment of all time. She knows my purpose?

Lady Carlisle. Thoroughly: just now She bade me hide it from you.

Strafford. Quick, dear child, The whole o' the scheme?

Lady Carlisle. (Ah, he would learn if they Connive at Pym's procedure! Could they but Have once apprised the King! But there's no time For falsehood, now.) Strafford, the whole is known.

Strafford. Known and approved?

Lady Carlisle. Hardly discountenanced.

Strafford. And the King—say, the King consents as well?

Lady Carlisle. The King's not yet informed, but will not dare To interpose.

Strafford. What need to wait him, then? He'll sanction it! I stayed, child, tell him, long! It vexed me to the soul—this waiting here. You know him, there's no counting on the King. Tell him I waited long!

Lady Carlisle. (What can he mean? Rejoice at the King's hollowness?)

Strafford. I knew They would be glad of it,—all over once, I knew they would be glad: but he'd contrive, The Queen and he, to mar, by helping it, An angel's making.

Lady Carlisle. (Is he mad?) Dear Strafford, You were not wont to look so happy.

Strafford. Sweet, I tried obedience thoroughly. I took The King's wild plan: of course, ere I could reach My army, Conway ruined it. I drew The wrecks together, raised all heaven and earth, And would have fought the Scots: the King at once Made truce with them. Then, Lucy, then, dear child, God put it in my mind to love, serve, die For Charles, but never to obey him more! While he endured their insolence at Ripon I fell on them at Durham. But you'll tell The King I waited? All the anteroom Is filled with my adherents.

Lady Carlisle. Strafford—Strafford, What daring act is this you hint?

Strafford. No, no! 'Tis here, not daring if you knew? all here!

[Drawing papers from his breast.

Full proof, see, ample proof—does the Queen know I have such damning proof? Bedford and Essex, Brooke, Warwick, Savile (did you notice Savile? The simper that I spoilt?), Saye, Mandeville— Sold to the Scots, body and soul, by Pym!

Lady Carlisle. Great heaven!

Strafford. From Savile and his lords, to Pym And his losels, crushed!—Pym shall not ward the blow Nor Savile creep aside from it! The Crew And the Cabal—I crush them!

Lady Carlisle. And you go— Strafford,—and now you go?—

Strafford. —About no work In the background, I promise you! I go Straight to the House of Lords to claim these knaves. Mainwaring!

Lady Carlisle. Stay—stay, Strafford!

Strafford. She'll return, The Queen—some little project of her own! No time to lose: the King takes fright perhaps.

Lady Carlisle. Pym's strong, remember!

Strafford. Very strong, as fits The Faction's head—with no offence to Hampden, Vane, Rudyard and my loving Hollis: one And all they lodge within the Tower to-night In just equality. Bryan! Mainwaring!

[Many of his Adherents enter.

The Peers debate just now (a lucky chance) On the Scots' war; my visit's opportune. When all is over, Bryan, you proceed To Ireland: these dispatches, mark me, Bryan, Are for the Deputy, and these for Ormond: We want the army here—my army, raised At such a cost, that should have done such good, And was inactive all the time! no matter, We'll find a use for it. Willis ... or, no—you! You, friend, make haste to York: bear this, at once ... Or,—better stay for form's sake, see yourself The news you carry. You remain with me To execute the Parliament's command, Mainwaring! Help to seize these lesser knaves, Take care there's no escaping at backdoors: I'll not have one escape, mind me—not one! I seem revengeful, Lucy? Did you know What these men dare!

Lady Carlisle. It is so much they dare!

Strafford. I proved that long ago; my turn is now. Keep sharp watch, Goring, on the citizens! Observe who harbors any of the brood That scramble off: be sure they smart for it! Our coffers are but lean. And you, child, too, Shall have your task; deliver this to Laud. Laud will not be the slowest in thy praise: "Thorough" he'll cry!—Foolish, to be so glad! This life is gay and glowing, after all: 'Tis worth while, Lucy, having foes like mine Just for the bliss of crushing them. To-day Is worth the living for.

Lady Carlisle. That reddening brow! You seem....

Strafford. Well—do I not? I would be well— I could not but be well on such a day! And, this day ended, 'tis of slight import How long the ravaged frame subjects the soul In Strafford.

Lady Carlisle. Noble Strafford!

Strafford. No farewell! I'll see you anon, to-morrow—the first thing. —If She should come to stay me!

Lady Carlisle. Go—'tis nothing— Only my heart that swells: it has been thus Ere now: go, Strafford!

Strafford. To-night, then, let it be. I must see Him: you, the next after Him. I'll tell how Pym looked. Follow me, friends! You, gentlemen, shall see a sight this hour To talk of all your lives. Close after me! "My friend of friends!"

[STRAFFORD and the rest go out.

Lady Carlisle. The King—ever the King! No thought of one beside, whose little word Unveils the King to him—one word from me, Which yet I do not breathe! Ah, have I spared Strafford a pang, and shall I seek reward Beyond that memory? Surely too, some way He is the better for my love. No, no— He would not look so joyous—I'll believe His very eye would never sparkle thus, Had I not prayed for him this long, long while.

SCENE III.—The Antechamber of the House of Lords.

Many of the Presbyterian Party. The Adherents of STRAFFORD, etc.

A Group of Presbyterians. —1. I tell you he struck Maxwell: Maxwell sought To stay the Earl: he struck him and passed on. 2. Fear as you may, keep a good countenance Before these rufflers. 3. Strafford here the first, With the great army at his back! 4. No doubt. I would Pym had made haste: that's Bryan, hush— The gallant pointing.

Strafford's Followers. —1. Mark these worthies, now! 2. A goodly gathering! "Where the carcass is There shall the eagles"—what's the rest? 3. For eagles Say crows.

A Presbyterian. Stand back, sirs!

One of Strafford's Followers. Are we in Geneva?

A Presbyterian. No, nor in Ireland; we have leave to breathe.

One of Strafford's Followers. Truly? Behold how privileged we be That serve "King Pym"! There's Some-one at Whitehall Who skulks obscure; but Pym struts....

The Presbyterian. Nearer.

A Follower of Strafford. Higher, We look to see him. [To his Companions.] I'm to have St. John In charge; was he among the knaves just now That followed Pym within there?

Another. The gaunt man Talking with Rudyard. Did the Earl expect Pym at his heels so fast? I like it not.

MAXWELL enters.

Another. Why, man, they rush into the net! Here's Maxwell— Ha, Maxwell? How the brethren flock around The fellow! Do you feel the Earl's hand yet Upon your shoulder, Maxwell?

Maxwell. Gentlemen, Stand back! a great thing passes here.

A Follower of Strafford [To another]. The Earl Is at his work! [To M.] Say, Maxwell, what great thing! Speak out! [To a Presbyterian.] Friend, I've a kindness for you! Friend, I've seen you with St. John: O stockishness! Wear such a ruff, and never call to mind St. John's head in a charger? How, the plague, Not laugh?

Another. Say, Maxwell, what great thing!

Another. Nay, wait: The jest will be to wait.

First. And who's to bear These demure hypocrites? You'd swear they came ... Came ... just as we come!

[A Puritan enters hastily and without observing STRAFFORD'S Followers.

The Puritan. How goes on the work? Has Pym....

A Follower of Strafford. The secret's out at last. Aha, The carrion's scented! Welcome, crow the first! Gorge merrily, you with the blinking eye! "King Pym has fallen!"

The Puritan. Pym?

A Strafford. Pym!

A Presbyterian. Only Pym?

Many of Strafford's Followers. No, brother, not Pym only; Vane as well, Rudyard as well, Hampden, St. John as well!

A Presbyterian. My mind misgives: can it be true?

Another. Lost! Lost!

A Strafford. Say we true, Maxwell?

The Puritan. Pride before destruction, A haughty spirit goeth before a fall.

Many of Strafford's Followers. Ah now! The very thing! A word in season! A golden apple in a silver picture, To greet Pym as he passes!

[The doors at the back begin to open, noise and light issuing.

Maxwell. Stand back, all!

Many of the Presbyterians. I hold with Pym! And I!

Strafford's Followers. Now for the text! He comes! Quick!

The Puritan. How hath the oppressor ceased! The Lord hath broken the staff of the wicked! The sceptre of the rulers, he who smote The people in wrath with a continual stroke, That ruled the nations in his anger—he Is persecuted and none hindreth!

[The doors open, and STRAFFORD issues in the greatest disorder, and amid cries from within of "Void the House!"

Strafford. Impeach me! Pym! I never struck, I think, The felon on that calm insulting mouth When it proclaimed—Pym's mouth proclaimed me ... God! Was it a word, only a word that held The outrageous blood back on my heart—which beats! Which beats! Some one word—"Traitor," did he say, Bending that eye, brimful of bitter fire, Upon me?

Maxwell. In the Commons' name, their servant Demands Lord Strafford's sword.

Strafford. What did you say?

Maxwell. The Commons bid me ask your lordship's sword.

Strafford. Let us go forth: follow me, gentlemen! Draw your swords too: cut any down that bar us. On the King's service! Maxwell, clear the way!

[The Presbyterians prepare to dispute his passage.

Strafford. I stay: the King himself shall see me here. Your tablets, fellow! [To MAINWARING.] Give that to the King! Yes, Maxwell, for the next half-hour, let be! Nay, you shall take my sword!

[MAXWELL advances to take it.

Or, no—not that! Their blood, perhaps, may wipe out all thus far, All up to that—not that! Why, friend, you see When the King lays your head beneath my foot It will not pay for that. Go, all of you!

Maxwell. I dare, my lord, to disobey: none stir!

Strafford. This gentle Maxwell!—Do not touch him, Bryan! [To the Presbyterians.] Whichever cur of you will carry this Escapes his fellow's fate. None saves his life? None?

[Cries from within of "STRAFFORD!"

Slingsby, I've loved you at least: make haste! Stab me! I have not time to tell you why. You then, my Bryan! Mainwaring, you then! Is it because I spoke so hastily At Allerton? The King had vexed me. [To the Presbyterians.] You! —Not even you? If I live over this, The King is sure to have your heads, you know! But what if I can't live this minute through? Pym, who is there with his pursuing smile!

[Louder cries of "STRAFFORD!"

The King! I troubled him, stood in the way Of his negotiations, was the one Great obstacle to peace, the Enemy Of Scotland: and he sent for me, from York, My safety guaranteed—having prepared A Parliament—I see! And at Whitehall The Queen was whispering with Vane—I see The trap!

[Tearing off the George.

I tread a gewgaw underfoot, And cast a memory from me. One stroke, now!

[His own Adherents disarm him. Renewed cries of "STRAFFORD!"

England! I see thy arm in this and yield. Pray you now—Pym awaits me—pray you now!

[STRAFFORD reaches the doors: they open wide. HAMPDEN and a crowd discovered, and, at the bar, PYM standing apart. As STRAFFORD kneels, the scene shuts.



The history of the fourth act deals with further episodes of Strafford's trial, especially with the change in the procedure from Impeachment to a Bill of Attainder against Strafford. The details of this great trial are complicated and cannot be followed in all their ramifications here. There was danger that the Impeachment would not go through. Strafford, himself, felt confident that in law his actions could not be found treasonable.

After Strafford's brilliant defense of himself, it was decided to bring in a Bill of Attainder. New evidence against Strafford contained in some notes which the younger Vane had found among his father's papers were used to strengthen the charge of treason. In these notes Strafford had advised the King to act "loose and absolved from all rules of government," and had reminded him that there was an army in Ireland, ready to reduce the Kingdom. These notes were found by the merest accident. The younger Vane who had just been knighted and was about to be married, borrowed his father's keys in order to look up some law papers. In his search he fell upon these notes taken at a committee that met immediately after the dissolution of the short Parliament. He made a copy and carried it to Pym who also made a copy.

According to Baillie, the "secret" of the change from the Impeachment to the Bill was "to prevent the hearing of the Earl's lawyers, who give out that there is no law yet in force whereby he can be condemned to die for aught yet objected against him, and therefore their intent by this Bill to supply the defect of the laws therein." To this may be added the opinion of a member of the Commons. "If the House of Commons proceeds to demand judgment of the Lords, without doubt they will acquit him, there being no law extant whereby to condemn him of treason. Wherefore the Commons are determined to desert the Lord's judicature, and to proceed against him by Bill of Attainder, whereby he shall be adjudged to death upon a treason now to be declared."

One of the chief results in this change of procedure, emphasized by Browning in an intense scene between Pym and Charles was that it altered entirely the King's attitude towards Strafford's trial. As Baillie expresses it, "Had the Commons gone on in the former way of pursuit, the King might have been a patient, and only beheld the striking off of Strafford's head; but now they have put them on a Bill which will force the King either to be our agent and formal voicer to his death, or else do the world knows not what."

For the sake of a gain in dramatic power, Browning has once more departed from history by making Pym the moving power in the Bill of Attainder, and Hampden in favor of it; while in reality they were opposed to the change in procedure, and believed that the Impeachment could have been carried through.

The relentless, scourging force of Pym in the play, pursuing the arch-foe of England as he regarded Wentworth to the death, once he is convinced that England's welfare demands it, would have been weakened had he been represented in favor of the policy which was abandoned, instead of with the policy that succeeded. But Pym is made to intimate that he will abandon the Bill unless the King gives his word that he will ratify it, and further, Pym declares, should he not ratify the Bill his next step will be against the King himself.

Enter HAMPDEN and VANE.

Vane. O Hampden, save the great misguided man! Plead Strafford's cause with Pym! I have remarked He moved no muscle when we all declaimed Against him: you had but to breathe—he turned Those kind calm eyes upon you.

[Enter PYM, the Solicitor-General ST. JOHN, the Managers of the Trial, FIENNES, RUDYARD, etc.

Rudyard. Horrible! Till now all hearts were with you: I withdraw For one. Too horrible! But we mistake Your purpose, Pym: you cannot snatch away The last spar from the drowning man.

Fiennes. He talks With St. John of it—see, how quietly! [To other Presbyterians.] You'll join us? Strafford may deserve the worst: But this new course is monstrous. Vane, take heart! This Bill of his Attainder shall not have One true man's hand to it.

Vane. Consider, Pym! Confront your Bill, your own Bill: what is it? You cannot catch the Earl on any charge,— No man will say the law has hold of him On any charge; and therefore you resolve To take the general sense on his desert, As though no law existed, and we met To found one. You refer to Parliament To speak its thought upon the abortive mass Of half-borne-out assertions, dubious hints Hereafter to be cleared, distortions—ay, And wild inventions. Every man is saved The task of fixing any single charge On Strafford: he has but to see in him The enemy of England.

Pym. A right scruple! I have heard some called England's enemy With less consideration.

Vane. Pity me! Indeed you made me think I was your friend! I who have murdered Strafford, how remove That memory from me?

Pym. I absolve you, Vane. Take you no care for aught that you have done!

Vane. John Hampden, not this Bill! Reject this Bill! He staggers through the ordeal: let him go, Strew no fresh fire before him! Plead for us! When Strafford spoke, your eyes were thick with tears!

Hampden. England speaks louder: who are we, to play The generous pardoner at her expense, Magnanimously waive advantages, And, if he conquer us, applaud his skill?

Vane. He was your friend.

Pym. I have heard that before.

Fiennes. And England trusts you.

Hampden. Shame be his, who turns The opportunity of serving her She trusts him with, to his own mean account— Who would look nobly frank at her expense!

Fiennes. I never thought it could have come to this.

Pym. But I have made myself familiar, Fiennes, With this one thought—have walked, and sat, and slept, This thought before me. I have done such things, Being the chosen man that should destroy The traitor. You have taken up this thought To play with, for a gentle stimulant, To give a dignity to idler life By the dim prospect of emprise to come, But ever with the softening, sure belief, That all would end some strange way right at last.

Fiennes. Had we made out some weightier charge!

Pym. You say That these are petty charges: can we come To the real charge at all? There he is safe In tyranny's stronghold. Apostasy Is not a crime, treachery not a crime: The cheek burns, the blood tingles, when you speak The words, but where's the power to take revenge Upon them? We must make occasion serve,— The oversight shall pay for the main sin That mocks us.

Rudyard. But his unexampled course, This Bill!

Pym. By this, we roll the clouds away Of precedent and custom, and at once Bid the great beacon-light God sets in all, The conscience of each bosom, shine upon The guilt of Strafford: each man lay his hand Upon his breast, and judge!

Vane. I only see Strafford, nor pass his corpse for all beyond!

Rudyard and others. Forgive him! He would join us, now he finds What the King counts reward! The pardon, too, Should be your own. Yourself should bear to Strafford The pardon of the Commons.

Pym. Meet him? Strafford? Have we to meet once more, then? Be it so! And yet—the prophecy seemed half fulfilled When, at the Trial, as he gazed, my youth, Our friendship, divers thoughts came back at once And left me, for a time.... 'Tis very sad! To-morrow we discuss the points of law With Lane—to-morrow?

Vane. Not before to-morrow— So, time enough! I knew you would relent!

Pym. The next day, Haselrig, you introduce The Bill of his Attainder. Pray for me!

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. 'Twas 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.