What way to save him from the King? My soul— To speak, but you would perish too, so sure! I' the diamond, which should shape forth some sweet face Lest nature lose her gracious thought for ever! Strafford. When could it be? no! Yet . . . was it the day We waited in the anteroom, till Holland Should leave the presence-chamber? One must not lure him from a love like that! Oh, let him love the King and die! "T is past. I shall not serve him worse for that one brief And passionate hope, silent for ever now!) And you are really bound for Scotland then? Of the King's faith, for Pym and all his crew Strafford. If Pym is busy,—you may write of Pym. Lady Carlisle. What need, since there 's your King to Strafford. Scotland-the weary way! Lady Carlisle. Stay, let me fasten it. -A rival's, Strafford? Strafford [showing the George]. He hung it there : twine yours around it, child! Lady Carlisle. No-no-another time-I trifle so! And there's a masque on foot. Farewell. The Court Is dull; do something to enliven us In Scotland: we expect it at your hands. You'll think of me sometimes! Strafford. Prosper-if How think of him And not of you? of you, the lingering streak (A golden one) in my good fortune's eve. Lady Carlisle. Strafford Well, when the eve has Only God can save him now. Be Thou about his bed, about his path! His path! Where 's England's path? Diverging wide, And not to join again the track my foot Must follow-whither? All that forlorn way Among the tombs! Far-far-till... What, they do Then join again, these paths? For, huge in the dusk, There's-Pym to face! Why then, I have a foe To close with, and a fight to fight at last Worthy my soul! What, do they beard the King, Not in the market-place, Pressed on by the rough artisans, so proud To catch a glance from Wentworth! They lie down Curse nothing to-night! Only one name They'll curse in all those streets to-night. Whose fault? All love in right of them-supplant them so, The man with the mild voice and mournful eyes -To breast the bloody sea That sweeps before me: with one star for guide. ACT III SCENE 1-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, Holland. Not a word missed. Ere he began, we entered, Savile, I And Bristol and some more, with hope to breed A wholesome awe in the new Parliament. But such a gang of graceless ruffians, Vane, |