A quiet, slow, but most effectual course
Of buying over, sapping, leavening

The lump till all is leaven. Glanville's gone.
I'll put a case; had not the Court declared
That no sum short of just twelve subsidies
Will be accepted by the King-our House,

I say, would have consented to that offer
To let us buy off ship-money!

Hollis.

Most like,

If, say, six subsidies will buy it off,

The House ...

Rudyard. Will grant them! Hampden, do you hear? Congratulate with me! the King's the king, And gains his point at last-our own assent To that detested tax? All 's over, then! There's no more taking refuge in this room, Protesting, "Let the King do what he will, "We, England, are no party to our shame : "Our day will come!" Congratulate with me!

PYM enters.

Vane. Pym, Strafford called this Parliament, you say,

But we 'll not have our Parliaments like those

In Ireland, Pym!

Rudyard.

Let him stand forth, your friend!

One doubtful act hides far too many sins;

It can be stretched no more, and, to my mind,

Begins to drop from those it covered.

Other Voices.

Let him avow himself! No fitter time!

We wait thus long for you.

Rudyard.

Good!

Perhaps, too long!

Since nothing but the madness of the Court,
In thus unmasking its designs at once,

Has saved us from betraying England. Stay-
This Parliament is Strafford's: let us vote
Our list of grievances too black by far
To suffer talk of subsidies: or best,
That ship-money 's disposed of long ago

By England: any vote that 's broad enough:
And then let Strafford, for the love of it,
Support his Parliament !

Vane.

And vote as well

No war to be with Scotland! Hear you, Pym?
We'll vote, no war! No part nor lot in it

For England!

Many Voices. Vote, no war!

Stop the new levies!

No Bishops' war! At once! When next we meet !

Pym. Much more when next we meet! Friends, which

of you

Since first the course of Strafford was in doubt,

Has fallen the most away in soul from me?

Vane. I sat apart, even now under God's eye,

Pondering the words that should denounce you, Pym, In presence of us all, as one at league

With England's enemy.

Pym.

You are a good

And gallant spirit, Henry. Take my hand
And say you pardon me for all the pain

Till now! Strafford is wholly ours.

Many Voices.

Sure? sure?

Pym. Most sure: for Charles dissolves the Parliament

While I speak here.

Strafford is ours.

-And I must speak, friends, now!

The King detects the change,

Casts Strafford off for ever, and resumes
His ancient path: no Parliament for us,

No Strafford for the King!

Come, all of you,

To bid the King farewell, predict success

To his Scots' expedition, and receive

Strafford, our comrade now. The next will be

Indeed a Parliament !

Vane.

Forgive me, Pym!

Voices. This looks like truth: Strafford can have, indeed No choice.

Pym.

Friends, follow me! He's with the King.

Come, Hampden, and come, Rudyard, and come, Vane

This is no sullen day for England, sirs!

Strafford shall tell you!

Thus, as I left them, all the plans you found

So happy-(look! the track you pressed my hand
For pointing out)-and in this very room,

Over these very plans, you tell me, sir,

With the same face, too-tell me just one thing

That ruins them! How's this? What may this mean? Sir, who has done this?

No fear, when some unworthy scheme grows ripe,
Of those, who hatched it, leaving me to loose
The mischief on the world! Laud hatches war,

Falls to his prayers, and leaves the rest to me,

And I 'm alone.

Charles.

At least, you knew as much

When first you undertook the war.

Strafford.

My liege,

Was this the way? I said, since Laud would lap
A little blood, 't were best to hurry over

The loathsome business, not to be whole months
At slaughter-one blow, only one, then, peace,
Save for the dreams. I said, to please you both
I'd lead an Irish army to the West,

While in the South an English . . . but you look
As though you had not told me fifty times
'T was a brave plan! My army is all raised,
I am prepared to join it

Charles.

Strafford. design

Is set aside (where is the wretched paper?)
I am to lead (ay, here it is)—to lead
The English army: why? Northumberland
That I appointed, chooses to be sick—

Is frightened and, meanwhile, who answers for
The Irish Parliament? or army, either?

Is this my plan?

Charles.

So disrespectful, sir?