STRAFFORD.

1837

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 I is indeed too bitter that one man,

Any one man's mere presence, should suspend

England's combined endeavour 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 bide Pym's coming.

Vane.

Then may be cool who can,

Some have a gift that way!

Now, by Heaven

silent who will—

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

ست

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! 'T is well said, Vane ! Vane. Who has not so forgotten Runnymead!Voices. 'T is 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.

Haman! Ahithophel !
Hampden.

The Renegade!

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.

Loudon.

Stay, Vane!

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