Robert Browning - Delphi Poets Series

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Robert Browning - Delphi Poets Series Page 255

by Robert Browning


  It served a purpose!

  HOLLIS.

  Think! This very day?

  Ere Strafford rises to defend himself?

  CHARLES.

  I will defend him, Sir! sanction the past —

  This day — it ever was my purpose! Rage

  At me, not Strafford! Oh I shall be paid

  By Strafford’s look!

  CARLISLE.

  (To HOLLIS.) Nobly! Oh will he not

  Do nobly?

  HOLLIS.

  Sire, you will do honestly;

  And, for that look, I too would be a king!

  CHARLES (after a pause).

  Only, to do this now — just when they seek

  To make me out a tyrant — one that’s deaf

  To subjects’ prayers, — shall I oppose them now?

  It seems their will the Trial should proceed . . .

  ‘Tis palpably their will!

  HOLLIS.

  You’ll lose your throne:

  But it were no bright moment save for that!

  Strafford, your prime support, the sole roof-tree

  That props this quaking House of Privilege,

  (Floods come, winds beat, and see — the treacherous sand!)

  Doubtless if the mere putting forth an arm

  Could save him, you’d save Strafford!

  CHARLES.

  And they mean

  Calmly to consummate this wrong! No hope?

  This ineffaceable wrong! No pity then?

  HOLLIS.

  No plague in store for perfidy? — Farewell!

  You summoned me . . . (To CARLISLE.) You, Lady, bade me come

  To save the Earl! I came, thank God for it,

  To learn how far such perfidy can go!

  . . . You dare to talk with me of saving him

  Who have just ruined Strafford!

  CHARLES.

  I?

  HOLLIS.

  See, now!

  Eighteen days long he throws, one after one,

  Our charges back: a blind moth-eaten law!

  — He’ll break from us at last! And whom to thank?

  The Mouse that gnawed the Lion’s net for him

  Got a good friend, — but he, the other Mouse,

  That looked on while the Lion freed himself — —

  Fared he so well, does any fable say?

  CHARLES.

  What can you mean?

  HOLLIS.

  Pym never could have proved

  Strafford’s design of bringing up the troops

  To force this kingdom to obedience: Vane —

  Your servant, Vane . . .

  QUEEN.

  Well, Sir?

  HOLLIS.

  . . Has proved it.

  CHARLES.

  Vane?

  HOLLIS.

  This day! Did Vane deliver up or no

  Those notes which, furnished by his son to Pym,

  Have sealed . . .

  CHARLES.

  Speak Vane! As I shall live, I know

  Nothing that Vane has done! What treason next?

  I wash my hands of it! Vane, speak the truth!

  — Ask Vane himself!

  HOLLIS.

  I will not speak to Vane

  Who speak to Pym and Hampden every day!

  QUEEN.

  Speak to Vane’s master then! Why should he wish

  For Strafford’s death?

  HOLLIS.

  Why? Strafford cannot turn

  As you sit there — bid you come forth and say

  If every hateful act were not set down

  In his commission? — Whether you contrived

  Or no that all the violence should seem

  His work, the gentle ways — your own, as if

  He counteracted your kind impulses

  While . . . but you know what he could say! And then

  Would he produce, mark you, a certain charge

  To set your own express commands aside,

  If need were, and be blameless! He’d say, then . . . .

  CHARLES.

  Hold!

  HOLLIS.

  . . . . Say who bade him break the Parliament, —

  Find out some pretext to set up sword-law . . .

  QUEEN.

  Retire, Sir!

  CHARLES.

  Vane — once more — what Vane dares do

  I know not . . . he is rash . . . a fool . . . I know

  Nothing of Vane!

  HOLLIS.

  Well — I believe you; Sire

  Believe me, in return, that . . .

  (Turning to CARLISLE.) Gentle Lady,

  The few words I would say the stones might hear

  Sooner than these . . . I’ll say them all to you,

  You, with the heart! The question, trust me, takes

  Another shape, to-day: ‘tis not if Charles

  Or England shall succumb, — but which shall pay

  The forfeit, Strafford or his Master: Sire,

  You loved me once . . . think on my warning now! (Exit.)

  CHARLES.

  On you and on your warning both! — Carlisle!

  That paper!

  QUEEN.

  But consider!

  CHARLES.

  Give it me!

  There — signed — will that content you? — Do not speak!

  You have betrayed me, Vane! — See — any day

  (According to the tenour of that paper)

  He bids your brother bring the Army up,

  Strafford shall head it and take full revenge!

  Seek Strafford! Let him have it, look, before

  He rises to defend himself!

  QUEEN.

  In truth?

  Clever of Hollis, now, to work a change

  Like this! You were reluctant . . .

  CHARLES.

  Say, Carlisle

  Your brother Percy brings the Army up —

  Falls on the Parliament — — (I’ll think of you

  My Hollis!) — say we plotted long . . . ‘tis mine,

  The scheme is mine, remember! Say I cursed

  Vane’s folly in your hearing! If that man

  Does rise to do us shame, the fault shall lie

  With you, Carlisle!

  CARLISLE.

  Nay, fear not me! but still

  That’s a bright moment, Sire, you throw away . . .

  Oh, draw the veil and save him!

  QUEEN.

  Go, Carlisle!

  CARLISLE (aside, and going).

  I shall see Strafford — speak to him: my heart

  Must never beat so, then!

  And if I tell

  The truth? What’s gained by falsehood? There they stand

  Whose trade it is — whose life it is! How vain

  To gild such rottenness! Strafford shall know,

  Thoroughly know them!

  THE QUEEN (as she leaves the KING, &c.)

  Trust to me! (To CARLISLE.) Carlisle,

  You seem inclined, alone of all the Court,

  To serve poor Strafford: this bold plan of yours

  Merits much praise, and yet . . .

  CARLISLE.

  Time presses, Madam.

  QUEEN.

  Yet . . . may it not be something premature?

  Strafford defends himself to-day — reserves

  Some wondrous effort . . one may well suppose —

  He’ll say some overwhelming fact, Carlisle!

  CARLISLE.

  Aye, Hollis hints as much.

  CHARLES.

  Why linger then?

  Haste with the scheme — my scheme — I shall be there

  To watch his look! Tell him I watch his look!

  QUEEN.

  Stay, we’ll precede you!

  CARLISLE.

  At your pleasure.

  CHARLES.

  Say . . .

  Say . . Vane is hardly ever at Whitehall!

  I shall be there, remember!
>
  CARLISLE.

  Doubt me not!

  CHARLES.

  On our return, Carlisle, we wait you here!

  CARLISLE.

  I’ll bring his answer; Sire, I follow you. (Exeunt K. &c.)

  Ah . . . but he would be very sad to find

  The King so faithless, and I take away

  All that he cares to live for: let it go — —

  ‘Tis the King’s scheme!

  My Strafford, I can save . . .

  Nay, I have saved you — yet am scarce content,

  Because my poor name will not cross your mind . . .

  Strafford, how much I am unworthy you! (Exit.)

  Scene II. A PASSAGE ADJOINING WESTMINSTER HALL.

  Many groups of SPECTATORS of the Trial (which is visible from the back of the Stage) — OFFICERS of the Court, &c.

  FIRST SPECTATOR.

  More crowd than ever! . . . Not know Hampden, man?

  That’s he — by Pym — Pym that is speaking now!

  No, truly — if you look so high you’ll see

  Little enough of either!

  SECOND SPECTATOR.

  Hush . . Pym’s arm

  Points like a prophet’s rod!

  THIRD SPECTATOR.

  Ay — ay — we’ve heard

  Some pretty speaking . . yet the Earl escapes!

  FOURTH SPECTATOR.

  I fear it: just a foolish word or two

  About his children . . . and they see, forsooth,

  Not England’s Foe in Strafford — but the Man

  Who, sick, half-blind . . .

  SECOND SPECTATOR.

  What’s that Pym’s saying now

  That makes the curtains flutter . . look! A hand

  Clutches them . . Ah! The King’s hand!

  FIFTH SPECTATOR.

  I had thought

  Pym was not near so tall! What said he, friend?

  SECOND SPECTATOR.

  “Nor is this way a novel way of blood” . . .

  And the Earl turns as if to . . . look! look!

  MANY SPECTATORS.

  Heaven —

  What ails him . . no — he rallies . . see — goes on

  And Strafford smiles. Strange!

  (Enter a PURITAN.)

  THE PURITAN.

  Haselrig.

  MANY SPECTATORS.

  Friend? Friend?

  THE PURITAN.

  Lost — utterly lost . . just when we looked for Pym

  To make a stand against the ill effects

  Of the Earl’s speech! Is Haselrig without?

  Pym’s message is to him! (Exit.)

  THIRD SPECTATOR.

  Now, said I true?

  Will the Earl leave them yet at fault or no?

  FIRST SPECTATOR.

  Never believe it, man! These notes of Vane’s

  Ruin the Earl!

  FIFTH SPECTATOR.

  A brave end . . not a whit

  Less firm, less . . . Pym all over! Then the Trial

  Is closed . . . no . . Strafford means to speak again!

  AN OFFICER.

  Stand back, there!

  FIFTH SPECTATOR.

  Why the Earl is coming hither!

  Before the court breaks up! His brother, look, —

  You’d say he deprecated some fierce act

  In Strafford’s mind just now!

  AN OFFICER.

  Stand back, I say!

  SECOND SPECTATOR.

  Who’s the veiled woman that he talks with?

  MANY SPECTATORS.

  Hush —

  The Earl! the Earl!

  (Enter STRAFFORD, SLINGSBY and other Secretaries, HOLLIS,

  CARLISLE, MAXWELL, BALFOUR, &c. STRAFFORD converses with CARLISLE.)

  HOLLIS.

  So near the end! Be patient —

  Return!

  STRAFFORD.

  (To his Secretaries.) Here — anywhere — or — ’tis freshest here . .

  (To spend one’s April here — the blossom-month!)

  Set it down here!

  (They arrange a table, papers &c.)

  What, Pym to quail, to sink

  Because I glance at him, yet . . .

  Well, to end —

  What’s to be answered, Slingsby? Let us end!

  (To CARLISLE.) Girl, I refuse his offer; whatsoe’er

  It be! Too late! Tell me no word of him!

  (To HOLLIS.) ‘Tis something, Hollis, I assure you that —

  To stand, sick as you are, some eighteen days

  Fighting for life and fame against a pack

  Of very curs, that lie thro’ thick and thin,

  Eat flesh and bread by wholesale, and can’t say

  “Strafford” if it would take my life!

  CARLISLE.

  Be kind

  This once! Glance at the paper . . if you will

  But glance at it . . .

  STRAFFORD.

  Already at my heels!

  Pym’s faulting bloodhounds scent the track again!

  Peace, girl! Now, Slingsby!

  (Messengers from Lane and other of STRAFFORD’S Counsel within the

  Hall are coming and going during the Scene.)

  STRAFFORD (setting himself to write and dictate).

  I shall beat you, Hollis!

  Do you know that? In spite of all your tricks —

  In spite of Pym! Your Pym that shrank from me!

  Eliot would have contrived it otherwise!

  (To a Messenger.) In truth? This slip, tell Lane, contains as much

  As I can call to mind about the matter.

  (To HOLLIS.) Eliot would have disdained . . .

  (Calling after the Messenger.) And Radcliffe, say —

  The only person who could answer Pym —

  Is safe in prison, just for that!

  (Continuing to HOLLIS). Well — well —

  It had not been recorded in that case,

  I baffled you!

  (To CARLISLE.) Nay, girl, why look so grieved?

  All’s gained without the King! You saw Pym quail?

  . . . What shall I do when they acquit me, think you,

  But tranquilly resume my task as though

  Nothing had intervened since I proposed

  To call that traitor to account! Such tricks,

  Trust me, shall not be played a second time —

  Even against old Laud, with his grey hair . . .

  Your good work, Hollis! — And to make amends

  You, Lucy, shall be there when I impeach

  Pym and his fellows!

  HOLLIS.

  Wherefore not protest

  Against our whole proceeding long ago?

  Why feel indignant now? Why stand this while

  Enduring patiently . . .

  STRAFFORD.

  (To CARLISLE.) Girl, I’ll tell you —

  You — and not Pym . . you, the slight graceful girl

  Tall for a flowering lily — and not Charles . . .

  Why I stood patient! I was fool enough

  To see the will of England in Pym’s will —

  To dream that I had wronged her — and to wait

  Her judgment, — when, behold, in place of it . . .

  (To a Messenger who whispers.) Tell Lane to answer no such

  question! Law . . .

  I grapple with their Law! I’m here to try

  My actions by their standard, not my own!

  Their Law allowed that levy . . . what’s the rest

  To Pym, or Lane, or any but myself?

  CARLISLE.

  Then cast not thus your only chance away —

  The King’s so weak . . secure this chance! ‘Twas Vane

  — Vane, recollect, who furnished Pym the notes . . .

  STRAFFORD.

  Fit . . very fit . . those precious notes of Vane,

  To close the Trial worthily! I feared

  Some spice of nobleness might linger yet

  To spoil
the character of all the past!

  It pleased me . . and (rising passionately) I will go back and say

  As much — to them — to England! Follow me!

  I have a word to say! There! my defence

  Is done!

  (To CARLISLE.) Stay . . why be proud? Why care to own

  My gladness — my surprise? . . no — not surprise!

  Oh, why insist upon the little pride

  Of doing all myself and sparing him

  The pain? Girl, say the triumph is my King’s!

  When Pym grew pale, and trembled, and sank down —

  His image was before me . . . could I fail?

  Girl, care not for the past — so indistinct —

  Obscure — there’s nothing to forgive in it

  ‘Tis so forgotten! From this day begins

  A new life, founded on a new belief

  In Charles . . .

  HOLLIS.

  Pym comes . . tell Pym it is unfair!

  Appeal to Pym! Hampden — and Vane! see, Strafford!

  Say how unfair . . .

  STRAFFORD.

  To Pym? I would say nothing!

  I would not look upon Pym’s face again!

  CARLISLE.

  Stay . . let me have to think I pressed your hand!

  (Exeunt STRAFFORD &c.)

  (Enter HAMPDEN and VANE.)

  VANE.

  O Hampden, save that great misguided man!

  Plead Strafford’s cause with Pym — I have remarked

  He moved no muscle when we all spoke loud

  Against him . . . you had but to breathe — he turned

  Those kind, large eyes upon you — kind to all

  But Strafford . . whom I murder!

  (Enter PYM (conversing with the Solicitor-General, St. JOHN),

  the Managers of the Trial, FIENNES, RUDYARD, &c.)

  RUDYARD.

  Horrible!

  Till now all hearts were with you . . . I withdraw

  For one! Too horrible! Oh 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? Mind, we own he merits

  death —

  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.

  But hear me, 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 every man

  To speak his thought upon this hideous mass

  Of half-borne out assertions — dubious hints

  Hereafter to be cleared — distortions — aye,

  And wild inventions. Every man is saved

  The task of fixing any single charge

 

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