Robert Browning - Delphi Poets Series
Page 254
To interpose.
STRAFFORD.
What need to wait him, then?
He’ll sanction it! I stayed, girl 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!
CARLISLE.
(Aside.) 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!
CARLISLE.
(Aside.) Is he mad? (To STRAFFORD.) Dear Strafford,
You were not wont to look so happy.
STRAFFORD.
Girl,
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 girl,
God put it my mind to love, serve, die
For Charles — but never to obey him more!
While he endured their insolence at Rippon
I fell on them at Durham!
. . . But you’ll tell
The king I waited? All the anteroom
Is filled with my adherents.
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,
Broke, Warwick, Savile (did you notice Savile?
The simper that I spoilt?) Say, Mandeville —
Sold to the Scots, body and soul, by Pym!
CARLISLE.
Great heaven!
STRAFFORD.
From Savile and his lords, to Pym —
I crush them, girl — Pym shall not ward the blow
Nor Savile crawl aside from it! The Court
And the Cabal — I crush them!
CARLISLE.
And you go . . .
Strafford, — and now you go? . . .
STRAFFORD.
About no work
In the back-ground, I promise you! I go
Straight to the House of Lords to claim these men.
Mainwaring!
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 —
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’ll proceed
To Ireland: these despatches, mark me, Bryan,
Are for the Deputy, and these for Ormond —
We’ll 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 . . . 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 the lesser knaves:
Take care there’s no escaping at backdoors!
To not have one escape — mind me — not one!
I seem revengeful, Lucy? Did you know
What these men dare!
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 harbours any of the brood
That scramble off: be sure they smart for it!
Our coffers are but lean.
And you, girl, too,
Shall have your task — deliver this to Laud —
Laud will not be the slowest in my praise!
“Thorough” he’ll say!
— Foolish, to be so glad!
This sort of life is vivid, after all!
‘Tis worth while, Lucy, having foes like mine
For the dear bliss of crushing them! To-day
Is worth the living for!
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!
CARLISLE.
Noble Strafford!
STRAFFORD.
No farewell!
I’ll see you, girl, to-morrow — the first thing!
— If she should come to stay me!
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 . . . I’ll see you after Him . .
I’ll tell you 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!” (Exeunt STRAFFORD, &c.)
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! (Exit.)
Scene III. THE ANTECHAMBER OF THE HOUSE OF LORDS.
Many of the Presbyterian Party. The Adherents of STRAFFORD,
&c.
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 ruffians!
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 fellow 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.
One of STRAFFORD’S Followers.
Really? Behold how grand a thing it is
To serve “King Pym”! There’s some one at Whitehall
That lives obscure, but Pym lives . . .
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. (Enter MAXWELL.)
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.) Friends, I’ve a kindness for you!
Friends,
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?
What — the plague —
Not laugh?
Another.
Say Maxwell, what it is!
Another.
Hush — wait —
The jest will be to wait —
First.
And who’s to bear
These quiet 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 Follower of STRAFFORD.
Pym!
A PRESBYTERIAN.
Only Pym?
Many of STRAFFORD’S Followers.
No, brother — not Pym only — Vane as well —
Rudyard as well — Hampden — Saint John as well —
A PRESBYTERIAN.
My mind misgives . . can it be true?
Another.
Lost! Lost!
A Follower of 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 folding-doors at the back begin to open, noise and light
issuing.)
MAXWELL.
Stand back, all!
Many of the PRESBYTERIANS.
I’ll die with Pym! And I!
STRAFFORD’S Followers.
Now for the text —
He comes! Quick!
The PURITAN.
(With uplifted arms.) 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 hindereth!
(At the beginning of this speech, the doors open, and
STRAFFORD in the greatest disorder, and amid cries from within
of “Void the House,” staggers out. When he reaches the front
of the Stage, silence.)
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.
(Advancing.) 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 (suddenly recovering, and looking round,
draws it, and turns to his followers).
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.
Ha — true! . . . That is, you mistake me, utterly —
I will stay — the King himself shall see me — here —
Here — I will stay, Mainwaring! — First of all,
(To MAXWELL.) Your tablets, fellow! (He writes on them.)
(To MAINWARING.) Give that to the King!
Yes, Maxwell, for the next half-hour, I will . . .
I will remain your prisoner, I will!
Nay, you shall take my sword! (MAXWELL advances to take it.)
No — 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 his head beneath my foot
It will not pay for that! Go, all of you!
MAXWELL.
I grieve, my lord, to disobey: none stir.
STRAFFORD.
This gentle Maxwell! — Do not touch him, Bryan!
(To the PRESBYTERIAN.) Whichever cur of you will carry this
I’ll save him from the fate of all the rest —
I’ll have him made a Peer — I’ll . . . none will go?
None?
(Cries from within of “STRAFFORD.”)
(To his FOLLOWERS.) Slingsby, I’ve loved you at least — my friend,
Stab me! I have not time to tell you why . . .
You then, dear Bryan! You Mainwaring, then!
. . . Ah, that’s because I spoke so hastily
At Allerton — the King had vexed me . . .
(To the PRESBYTERIANS.) You
Miscreants — you then — that I’ll exterminate!
— Not even you? If I live over it
The King is sure to have your heads — you know
I’m not afraid of that — you understand
That if I chose to wait — made up my mind
To live this minute — he would do me right!
But what if I can’t live this minute through?
If nothing can repay that minute? Pym
With his pursuing smile — Pym to be there!
(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! I curse the King! I wish Pym well!
Wish all his brave friends well! Say, all along
Strafford was with them — all along, at heart,
&nb
sp; I hated Charles and wished them well! And say
(tearing off the George and dashing it down)
That as I tread this gew-gaw under foot,
I cast his memory from me! One stroke, now!
(His own adherents disarm him. Renewed cries of “STRAFFORD.”)
I’ll not go . . . they shall drag me by the hair!
(Changing suddenly to calm.) England! I see her arm in this! I yield.
Why — ’tis the fairest triumph! Why desire
To cheat them? I would never stoop to that — —
Be mean enough for that! Let all have end!
Don’t repine, Slingsby . . have they not a right?
They claim me — hearken — lead me to them, Bryan!
No — I myself should offer up myself.
Pray you now . . . Pym awaits me . . . pray you now!
(Putting aside those who attempt to support him, STRAFFORD
reaches the doors — they open wide. HAMPDEN, &c. and a crowd
discovered; and at the bar, PYM standing apart. As STRAFFORD kneels
ACT IV
Scene I. WHITEHALL.
The KING, the QUEEN, HOLLIS, CARLISLE. (VANE, HOLLAND, SAVILE, in the back-ground.)
CARLISLE.
Answer them, Hollis, for his sake! — One word!
CHARLES.
(To HOLLIS.) You stand, silent and cold, as though I were
Deceiving you — my friend, my playfellow
Of other times! What wonder after all?
Just so I dreamed my People loved me!
HOLLIS.
Sire,
It is yourself that you deceive, not me!
You’ll quit me comforted — your mind made up
That since you’ve talked thus much and grieved thus much,
All you can do for Strafford has been done.
QUEEN.
If you kill Strafford . . . come, we grant you leave,
Suppose . . .
HOLLIS.
I may withdraw, Sire?
CARLISLE.
Hear them out!
‘Tis the last chance for Strafford! Hear them out!
HOLLIS.
“If we kill Strafford” — on the eighteenth day
Of Strafford’s trial — We!
CHARLES.
Pym, my good Hollis —
Pym, I should say!
HOLLIS.
Ah, true — Sire, pardon me!
You witness our proceedings every day,
But the screened gallery, I might have guessed,
Admits of such a partial glimpse at us —
Pym takes up all the room, shuts out the view!
Still, on my honour, Sire, the rest of the place
Is not unoccupied: the Commons sit
— That’s England; Ireland sends, and Scotland too,
Their representatives: the Peers that judge
Are easily distinguished; one remarks
The People here and there . . . but the close curtain
Must hide so much!
QUEEN.
Acquaint your insolent crew,
This day the curtain shall be dashed aside!