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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.

ACT III.

SCENE I.-Opposite Westminster Hall.

Sir HENRY VANE, Lord SAVILE, Lord HOLLAND and others of the Court.

Sir H. Vane. The Commons thrust you out?

Savile.

From sharing their civility?

Sir H. Vane.

And what kept you

Kept me?

Fresh news from Scotland, sir! worse than the last,
If that may be. All 's up with Strafford there:
Nothing to bar the mad Scots marching hither
Next Lord's-day morning. That detained me, sir!
Well now, before they thrust you out,-go on,-
Their Speaker-did the fellow Lenthal say
All we set down for him?

Holland.

Not a word missed.

Ere he began, we entered, Savile, I

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And Bristol and some more, with hope to breed

A wholesome awe in the new Parliament.

But such a gang of graceless ruffians, Vane,

As glared at us !

Vane.

Savile.

So many?

Not a bench

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Without its complement of burly knaves;

Your hopeful son among them: Hampden leant
Upon his shoulder-think of that!

Vane.

I'd think

On Lenthal's speech, if I could get at it.
Urged he, I ask, how grateful they should prove
For this unlooked-for summons from the King?
Holland. Just as we drilled him.

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I've a vague memory of a sort of sound,

A voice, a kind of vast unnatural voice-

Pym, sir, was speaking! Savile, help me out :

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Savile.

How should I get used to Pym

More than yourselves?

Holland.

However that be,

'T was something with which we had nought to do, For we were "strangers" and 't was "England's work" (All this while looking us straight in the face) In other words, our presence might be spared. So, in the twinkling of an eye, before

I settled to my mind what ugly brute

Was likest Pym just then, they yelled us out,
Locked the doors after us, and here are we.
Vane. Eliot's old method . .
Savile.

Prithee, Vane, a truce

To Eliot and his times, and the great Duke,

And how to manage Parliaments! 'T was you
Advised the Queen to summon this: why, Strafford
(To do him justice) would not hear of it.

Vane. Say rather, you have done the best of turns
To Strafford: he 's at York, we all know why.
I would you had not set the Scots on Strafford
Till Strafford put down Pym for us, my lord!

Savile. Was it I altered Strafford's plans? did I

A Messenger enters.

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Messenger. The Queen, my lords-she sends me:

follow me

At once; 't is very urgent! she requires

Your counsel: something perilous and strange

Occasions her command.

Savile.

We follow, friend!

Now, Vane ;-your Parliament will plague us all!

Vane. No Strafford here beside!
Savile.

I had a hand in his betrayal, sir

If you dare hint

Holland. Nay, find a fitter time for quarrels-Pym

Will overmatch the best of you; and, think,

The Queen!

Vane.

Come on, then: understand, I loathe

Strafford as much as any-but his use!

To keep off Pym, to screen a friend or two,
I would we had reserved him yet awhile.

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