!aSE«B«'5?:53S-W?di-- 
 
 PR 
 
 5022 
 
 C5 
 
 1834 
 
 MAIN 
 
 CHARLES THE FIRST 
 
 UC-NRL»f_ 
 
 MARY RUSSELL MITFORD* 
 
/^BERKELEY >^ 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF 
 V CALIFORNIA 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2008 with funding from 
 
 IVIicrosoft Corporation 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/charlesfirsthistOOmitfrich 
 
CHARLES THE FIRST 
 
 H I S T () R ] ( ' A L 'V R A G E D Y, 
 
 IX FIVE ACTS. 
 
 BY 
 
 MARY RUSSELL MITFORD. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 JOHN DUNCOMBE, AND Co. 10, MIDDLE ROW, 
 HOLBORN. 
 
 1834. 
 
LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BV JOHN DUNCOMBE, AND Co., 
 
 10, MIDDLE-ROW, HOLBORN. 
 
FP ^Ol^O^ 
 
 MR. SERJEANT TALFOURD, 
 
 Of many Kimi and Hon'oured FaiExna 
 
 The Kindest and the most Honoureh, 
 
 This Trageoy 
 
 Is Respectfully and Affectionately Inscribed, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 078 
 
P R E F A C; E. 
 
 In the followiii!^ Plaj- 1 have, without any such praiseworthy intention on 
 my own jiart, obeyed to the very letter tlie well-known lloration precept — 
 " keep your piece nine years !" 
 
 The attempt to dramatize one of tiie most striking events in English 
 Ilistorv, and to delineate one of the most remarkable (;haracters that ever 
 figured on the great Theatre of Life, was originally suggested to me by Mr. 
 IMacready, whose earnest recommenthTtion to try my haiul on Cromwell, was 
 at a subsequent period still more strongly enforced by Mr. Charles Kemble; 
 neither of th(>se gentlemen, whose jtulgment in dramatic affairs will hardly 
 be disputed, having foreseen any objection to such an experiment on the 
 part of tlu^ Licenser or the Lord (,'haniberlain. How indeed could they have 
 anticipated any obstacle trom that quarter, when an acted Tragedy on the 
 same story and bearing the same title, written above sixty years ago by 
 Mr. Havard, and frequently ))layed in by Jolin Kemble, was already in posses- 
 sion of the stage, and might have been j)erformed witiiout let or hindrance 
 on any niglit at any Theatre whether in Town or Country? 
 
 Unforeseen as it was however, sucli an obstacle unfortutuitely arose. Mr. 
 Colman did object not to the details or the execution of the piece but to 
 the title and tiie subject, and as tlie Duke of INIontrose, the then Lord Cham- 
 b?rlain, coiifirmed tiieflecision of liis "Reader of Plays,'' we submitted to the 
 fiat without complaint though not without remonstrance, and the Tragedy, 
 instead of being produced at Covent Garden eight seasons ago, has remained 
 unacted and uni)ublis!ied, with little apparent chance of representation, 
 until the spirited Managers of the Victoria Tiieatre applied to me for per- 
 mission to bring it forward on a stage honourably distinguished in this age 
 of opera and spectacle l)y its encouragement of the legitimate drama. 
 
 In acceding to tlieir proposal I beg most earnestly and sincerely to dis- 
 avow having been influenced by any tiling like a spirit of defiance towards 
 the Licenser or his office. To the present I/ord Chamberlain the whole 
 theatrical world, and I myself more particularly, owe nothing but respect 
 and gratitude. Under his administration a similar case can hardly occur ; 
 since, however, a characteristic delicacy might liave witlihekl him from 
 rescinding a declared resolution or nullifying a positive decree of his noble 
 predecessor, theDukeof Devonshire is too eminent for liberality and kind- 
 ness, too tasteful and enlightened a patron of the acted Drama, to be led 
 by the fear of an imaginary danger into placing fetters and shackles on an 
 ait which Iw loves. He is far more likely to foster and cherish an attempt 
 to pursue at humble distance, tiie track of those master poets of all countries, 
 who from the first Tragedy of Eschylus down to this very hour, have found 
 tiie subjects of their noblest plays in the heait-stirring convulsions, the 
 dark and dangerous conspiracies, the bold and daring usurpations, the parri- 
 cidrs, and the Rrgicides of their national annals. 
 
 Tliat Mr. Cobnan's scruples arose fiom no ill-will to the writer, but were 
 the oft'spring of an honest timidity, an over-zealous fear, I do not for a 
 moment question. A Licenser must needs be somewhat of an alarmist in 
 virtue of liis office. But ln\ who apprehends danger to the Mcmarchy from 
 the representation of tiiis Play, because it embodies the trial and condem- 
 nation of Cliarles tlie F'irst, Mill do well to suppress, if he can, the striking 
 narrative of Hume. In the present universal diffusion of literature and 
 
PREFACE. T 
 
 general knowledge, the Stag-e has lost imieh of Its ancient influence over the 
 feelings and passions of the multitude. Tiiat democratic engine the Press, 
 has swept away the regal supremacy of tlie drama. And even if the Theatre 
 were as powerful as in the days of old, — if the tendency of this Play were 
 revolutionary, which I deny, — and if Cromwells were " plenty as black- 
 berries," which I must be permitted to doubt, — against such a King as 
 William the Fourtli, tlu^ir sliafts would fall harmless. The Monarch who 
 has earned, as he has done, the honest love of a whole people, may defy the 
 subtlest attacks of fanaticism and rebellion. 
 
 Of tile Tragedy, considered as a literary production, I shall say little : 
 that is before the reader, and must speak for itself. No one can be more 
 conscious than I am of its numerous defects, and still more numerous defi- 
 ciencies; but great as those faults may be, they are not the result of negli- 
 gence or carelessness. It would be the worst of all pedantries, female 
 pedantry, were I to enumerate the very many cotempoiary writers, the 
 Histories, Memoirs, Narratives, and State Papers, tlie Roundhead Sermons 
 and Cavalier Ballads from which I have endeavoured to gather not merely 
 an accurate outline of this great event, but those minute and apparently 
 trifling touches wliich might serve to realize the scene, and supply, by a 
 vivid impression of the people and the time, the usual sources of dramatic 
 attraction, the interest of story and suspense, from wiiich I was cut off by 
 the nature of my subject. 
 
 Many of these allusions, those for instance to the papers concealed in the 
 stuflingof the saddle, — to the sowing of tlie melon seeds, — toCliarles's 
 constant perusal of Shakespeare whilst in prison, so prettily recorded by Mil- 
 ton, and to the falling of tlie head of tlie king's staff in the trial scene, — are 
 mentioned by the best writers, and will be immediately recognized by all 
 who are any ways conversant with the histories of the time. 
 
 The anecdote of Lord Broghill (afterwards Earl of Orrery), which really 
 happened at a subsequent period, is less generally known. He was in 
 London on a mission from Ciiarles the Second during the early part of the 
 Protectorate, when Cromwell discovered, confronted, converted, and em- 
 ployed him, much in the manner that I have related. 
 
 The materials of the scene of signing the warrant, in which I believe that 
 I have given, from the marking of Marten's cheek to the guiding of Ingoldsby's 
 hand, a very faithful version of what actually occurred, are ciiiefly taken 
 from the Defences in the Trials of the Regicides. It is certain that 
 the Judges, after the condemnation, were panic-struck at their own act ; 
 and that but for an extraordinary exertion of his singular power over the 
 minds of all with whom he came in contact, Cromwell would never have 
 succeeded in obtaining the signatures of the Commissioners of the High 
 Court of Justice to an instrument essential to the completion of this great 
 national crime, and to the purposes of his own ambition. 
 
 I am not aware of having in any material point departed from the truth 
 of History, except in shortening the trial, in bringing the Queen to 
 England, and in assigning to Henrietta the interruption of the sentence, 
 which was actually occasioned by Lady Fairfax ; deviations, which were 
 vitally necessary to the effect of the drama. I have some doubts also 
 whether Cromwell did really get rid of Fairfax by dismissing him and 
 Harrison to " seek the Lord together." Hume tells the story confidently ; 
 but Hume, although the most delightful, is by no means the most accurate 
 of historians ; and the manner in which we are, by the casual mention of 
 cotemporary writers, as well as by the evidence on the different trials, 
 enabled to account for almost every instant of Cromwell's time during 
 that eventful morning, goes far in my mind to disprove the circumstance. 
 But the incident is highly dramatic, and so strictly in keeping with 
 the characters of all parties, that T have no scruple in assuming it as a 
 fact. The thing might hnve happened, if it did not, and that is excuse 
 enough for the dramatist, although not for tlie historian. 
 
vi PREFACE. 
 
 One word more, aiiii I have done. In atteniptuijif to delineate tlia 
 characters of t^liarlcs and Cromwell, especially Cromwell, on the success 
 or failure of which tiie Play must stand or fall, I have to entreat the reader 
 to bear in mind — or I shall seem unjust to the memory of a great man — 
 that the point of time which this Tragedy embraces was precisely that in 
 wliicii the Kini; appeared to the most advantage, " for notiiing in his life 
 became iiim )il<c the leaving of it," and the future Protector to the least. 
 Never throughout his splendid history w-ere the checquered motives and 
 impulses of Cromwell so decidedly evil, never was he so liercc, so cruel, 
 so crafty, so deceitful, so borne along by a low personal ambition, a mere 
 lust of rule, as at tliat moment. I have endeavoured in the i-oiicluding 
 soliloquy to depict the manner in which I believe him to have lulled and 
 quieted iiis own conscience : but if I had \uulertaken to pourtray these 
 remarlcable men at any otiier part of their career, it is certain that my 
 drawing of (>harles would have been much less amiable, and that of 
 Cromwell much more so. 
 
 As the publication of this Tragedy will precede tiie performance, I might 
 perhaps be accounted rash and presumptuous, were I to fore-run the judg- 
 ment of the Town on tlie merits of my actors. Strongly as I am tempted 
 to venture one prediction, I relrain. But I cannot abstain from thanking 
 every individual concerned in the piece for the zeal and kindness which 
 have rendered the labour of rehearsal a pleasure; and my thanks are more 
 especially due to Mr. Abbott, as Manager, and to his very intelligent Stage 
 Manager, Mr. Broad, for the attention and research which they have 
 bestowed on the Costume and the Scenery, and on every detail, however 
 minute, which could add to historical accuracy in the getting up of the 
 Play. It is a novelty now-a-daysto find the Lessee of a Theatre expending 
 money aud time on a jjroduction of this class; and 1 cannot help feeling, 
 whatever may be tlie fate of my share of the work, that Mr. Abbott's spirit 
 and enterprize deserve to succeed. 
 
 There is yet another person who must accept my heartfelt thanks. It is 
 a privilege to owe obligation to such a man as Mr. Serle; and to him I am 
 indebted, not merely for the graceful compliment of writing and speaking 
 the Prologue, and for the most essential services in the production of the 
 Play, but for the prompt and ready kindness, the hearty goodwill, the 
 generous sympathy in the anxieties, not of a rival, but of a sister Dramatist 
 which have more than doubled the obligation. I shall never be able to 
 repay his goodness, but I am happy in the opportunity of proclaiming my 
 gratitude to one not less eminent for his private qualities, than for a rara 
 combination of genius and taste. 
 
PROLOG U E. 
 
 Written and Spoken hy Mr. Serle. 
 
 The world's historic glories and the fate 
 
 Of kings, and, loftier far, the stern debate 
 
 Of passions ; greater still, the ocean tide 
 
 Of thoughts and principles ; events that ride 
 
 Upon that mighty flood ; lights of the past 
 
 That dial-shadows on the future cast. 
 
 These Tragedy, wise, solemn, stern, pourtrays 
 
 In the Greek verse sublime, in Shakespeare's native lays. 
 
 Oh, English Harry ! did the battle-field 
 
 Of Agincourt so proud a trophy yield 
 
 As the high heart, the generous thought, which he 
 
 Hath shrin'd thee in for all eternity? 
 
 Man and the truth are our proud Muse's theme : 
 
 No witchcraft vision, no light fairy dream, 
 
 Calls up the spirit of Charles, and bids it pass 
 
 As a dim shadow o'er the magic glass ; 
 
 Even as he was he is, sealing with blood 
 
 The right divine of kings ; she, whom he wooed 
 
 In his few hours of joy and mirth, is here. 
 
 And weeps their sufferings in no fancied tear. 
 
 A thing whose beauty is fragility. 
 
 Wrestling with iron-handed destiny: 
 
 And, as though Destiny himself, exprest 
 
 In some dark human form, had come to wrest 
 
 Sceptres and powers and love and lives from men. 
 
 Here, all-controlling, Cromwell stands again. 
 
 And can these mighty scenes with trembling hand 
 Be painted ? or in colours such as stand 
 One moment in the rainbow, soft and fair ? 
 Can curious words these awful themes declare ? 
 Na: firm the hand and bold must be the pen 
 That wields the passions of those fearful men 
 Whose bold hypocrisy dar'd Heaven and Hell : 
 Even as they spoke, their speech the Muse shall tell ; 
 Poor pigmy fear this story must disgrace, 
 The Titan warrings of a giant race. 
 
Dramatt.ti pevison^. 
 
 Charles the First, (^King of England) - Mr. Abbott. 
 
 Duke of Gloucester, {his Son, a boy of 1^ ^^ 
 
 seven years old,) - - - - j 
 
 Lord Fairfax, {General of the Parlia-l-^ c 
 mentary Army, _ . - - j" ' 
 
 Lord Salisbury"J Commissioners sent by f Mr. T. Lee. 
 Lord Say - >the Parliament to treat < Mr. Mildenhall 
 
 Sir Harry Vane 3 uith the King - - (_Mr. Debar. 
 
 Harrison 
 Downes - 
 Marten - 
 Tichburne 
 
 Lord President ^ fMr. Green. 
 
 Uradshaw i 
 
 Oliver Cromwell \ t , , / ; Mr. Cathcart. 
 
 Ireton - - l^^fl'^ oppomted by \ ^^, j_ Webster. 
 > the Commons to trtiK -yn -p. 
 I .1 IP-- •'^ Mr. DoYNE. 
 
 the Ktnq - - a/t t> 
 
 ^ Mr. Bender. 
 
 I Mr. Forrester. 
 I^Mr. G. Williams. 
 
 Cook, (Solicitor to the Commons) - - Mr. Chalk. 
 
 Pride, (An Officer in the Parliamentary \-\if \ 
 Army) - - - - - - y ' 
 
 Hacker, (Colonel of the Guard) - - Mr. Thomas. 
 
 Sir Thomas Herbert, (A Gentleman! -.^ t^ 
 
 ,, ,. ,, j^. \ > Mr. DoYNE. 
 
 attending on the King) - - - 3 
 
 Hammond, (Governor of the Isle of) ,. -r, 
 
 Wight) - - -• - - 'j Mr. Fleming. 
 
 Centinel . _ . . . Mr. Chippendalk. 
 
 Servant, (belonging to Cromwell) - Mr. Kerridge.. 
 
 Bishop, Commissioners, Judges, Officers, Soldiers, 8^c., 8fc. 
 
 Henrietta Maria, (Queen of England) Mrs. Fisher. 
 Princess Elizabeth, (a girl of 12) - Miss Josephine. 
 
 Lady Fairfax _ . . . _ Miss Somervillb. 
 
 The Scene is in London, except during the latter part of 
 the First Act, to hen it is laid in the Isle of Wight. 
 
CHARLES THE FIRST. 
 
 ACT I 
 
 SCENE 1. 
 
 An Aparhnent in Whitehall. 
 
 Enter Ireton, Harrison, and Pride, to Downes afid 
 Marten. 
 
 Downes. Welcome to London, Ireton! dearly welcome 
 To fair Whitehall ! Harrison ! Pride ! Where loiters 
 The valiant General ? 
 
 Ireton. He alighted with us 
 Three hours agone. 
 
 Marten. What, three hours here, and still 
 In harness ! Know ye not j^our coat of mail 
 Is out of date ? Go, doflf your armour quick. 
 Provide ye civil suits, grave civil suits. 
 Sad reverend civil suits. 
 
 Pride. What mean'st thou? 
 
 Dow. Seek 
 Meaning of Harry Marten ! Tush ! Where tarries 
 The pious Cromwell ? 
 
 Ire. He is busied still 
 Disposing the tired soldiery. 
 
« CHARLES THE FIRST. [act i. 
 
 Mar. Disbanding 
 Will be his business soon. The lubbard people, 
 And the smug citizens, are grown aweary 
 Of this rough war. Ye must learn gentler trades 
 If ye would thrive. Peace is the cry, my masters ; 
 Peace and the King ! 
 
 Dow. The Newport treaty speeds ; 
 So far is sure. 
 
 Harrison. But we bring victory 
 To the good cause. Cromwell hath passed careering 
 From hold to hold, sweeping as with a besom 
 The foul malignants from the land. The North 
 Is ours from sea to sea. 
 
 Dow. 'Tis a brave leader ; 
 But poaoe is ovor the best victory. 
 
 Enter Cromwell. 
 
 Mar. In good lime comes the General. Valiant Crom- 
 well 
 Thy praise was on our lips. 
 
 Cromwell. Not mine I not mine I 
 Pral'^e to the Lord of ITo'^ts, whose mighty shield 
 Bucklered us in the battle, whose right arm 
 Strengthened us when we smote ! Praise to the Lord ! 
 For his poor instruments, the meanest soldier 
 Doth his great duty ; we no more. My masters, 
 Have ye no news astir ? News, the prime staple 
 Of yonder tattling city ? 
 
 Mar. Aye ; the worst 
 Is that the Commons grow from day to day 
 More doubtful of the army, more possessed 
 By canting prcsl)yters. 
 
 Ire. Name not the Commons, 
 A iealous crew, whose envious hate descends 
 
SCENE I.] CHARLES THE FIRST, 
 
 *Twixt every pause of fear on us their loathed 
 Despised defenders. Were there but one head 
 To the whole army, they would turn to truth 
 An elder tyrant's wish, and chop it off. 
 Despots who prate of liberty I — 
 
 Har. Worse! \Vorse ! 
 A godless yet intolerent crew, who rear 
 O'er the down-fallen Church that blacker idol 
 A conscience-fettering Presbytery. 
 
 Crom. Sir, 
 They shall be quelled. Power, howsoever called, 
 Is still the subtlest snare the Tempter weaves 
 For man's frail sinful souL Save me from power ! 
 Grant me to follow still, a lowly soldier 
 In the great cause I The Commons shall be quelled. 
 What other news ? 
 
 Dow. The best is that the King 
 And the Commissioners draw near a godly 
 And salutary peace. The King hath bent 
 His will in a wise humbleness ; and now — 
 
 Crom. I joy to hear thee say so. What ! the Lord 
 Hath turned his heart, and he hath yielded up 
 His haughty prelates, his ill councillors, 
 The popish mummery of his chapel ? 
 
 Dow. Nay, 
 Not yet ; but he hath promised ^ 
 
 Crom. Promised ! Oh 
 The King hath promised ! 
 Mar. Well? 
 Crom. And ye believe "^ 
 Dow. Would' st have us doubters ? 
 Crom. In good sooth, not I ! 
 Believe who can ! yet ere ye set him free 
 Look to the stuffing of his saddle, search 
 
 B 2 
 
4 CIIARLKS THE FIRST. [act i. 
 
 The waste leaves of his prayer-book, lest ye find 
 Some vow to Henrietta, sonne shrewd protest. 
 Some antedated scroll to throw the shadow 
 or a plain lie before his words. Search ! search ! 
 It is a prudent King, that casts about him 
 To rid him of his enemies. Search, I say. 
 
 Dow, Why, Cromwell, thou art bitter. 
 
 Crom. Heaven fore fend I 
 1 liked Charles Stuart well. I am of the fools 
 Whom Habit counts amidst her slaves ; that love, 
 For old acquaintance sake, each long-known pest 
 And close familiar evil. I liked him well ; 
 The better that his proud disgracious speech 
 Seemed to my ]:)lain and downright simpleness 
 As honest as mine own. Ye all remember 
 What friends we were at Holmby. Harrison 
 And e'en my loving kinsman deemed I waxed 
 Faint in the cause. But rightly it is written 
 In the one Holy Book, Put not thy trust 
 In Princes. 
 
 Ire. Yet is he in Carisbooke 
 A present danger. Round yon prison isle 
 Lurk spies and plots and treasons. Every breeze 
 Comes pregnant with quick rumours ; every ear 
 Is bent to listen ; every eye is turned 
 On those grey walls. 
 
 Crom. I grant ye. But astir. 
 Free as the breeze to traverse sea and land, 
 Creep in our councils, sweep across our camps, 
 Were the King harmless then ? Yet thou art right ; 
 He's dangerous in Carisbrooke. 
 
 Har. Dismiss him ; 
 Send him abroad unkinged ; or drive him forth 
 As Amaziah. 
 
scfiNK I.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 5 
 
 Crom. (Aside) Ha ! And they slew him ! 
 Mar. What, send him to seek succour in each court, 
 From papal Rome to savage Muscovy, 
 Till he shall burst on us in triumph, heading 
 Europe's great armament. 
 
 Ire. Wert thou a soldier. 
 And in this cause, thou would' st cry Welcome, Marten, 
 To such an armament. 
 
 Har. With His great help. 
 
 Crom. Aye, with His help and in this cause, if union 
 Dwelt in the land. But this is idle talk. 
 The King is dangerous ; dangerous on the throne, 
 Dangerous in prison, dangerous abroad, 
 At home and everywhere. Yet this is idle. 
 We must abide the Commons' treaty. 
 
 Har. Wherefore 
 Lifts not the army the strong hand of power 
 Over these stiff-necked rulers ? Put them down. 
 Tread out the firebrands. 
 
 Ire. Rather move the Commons 
 To bring the King to trial. 
 Crom, Who said that? 
 Mar. 'Twas bravely spoken. 
 Crom. Who said that? 
 Dow. The words 
 Sounded like treason. 
 
 Crom. Sir, had we met here 
 To compass such intent, the very thought 
 Had been a treason. But the words fell straight 
 Midst our unconscious hearts, unprompted, quick, 
 Startling even him who spake them, — like the fire 
 That lit the Burning Bush. A sign from Heaven ! 
 Direct from Heaven ! A comfortable light 
 To our benighted spirits ! As I wrestled 
 
tt CHARLES THE FIRST. [act 1- 
 
 In prayer this morning, when I would have cried 
 For mercy on Charles Stuart, my parched tongue 
 Clave to my mouth. A token from on high ! 
 A star lit up to guide us I 
 
 Mar. Yet the Commons 
 Will scarcely echo this rapt strain. The King 
 Hath friends amongst us. 
 
 Har. Fear not. He who sent 
 This impulse on his servants will know how 
 To turn all hearts. 
 
 Dow. Ye will not slay the King? 
 
 Crom. Life hangs not on our lips. Yet surely, Sir, 
 I hope to spare him. Friends, we must not sleep 
 Over such stirring business. Downes^ go thou 
 For Bradshaw, that resolved and learned and wise 
 And godly law-man. Thou art like to find him 
 At the Guildhall. Say we would speak with him. 
 
 (Exit DowNESi 
 
 Harrison I — Downes went forth as one who loves not 
 His errand — Lacks he zeal ? 'Tis a brave soldier, 
 And yet — Follow him, Marten ; and return 
 With Bradshaw hither. We shall need thy counsel. 
 Delay not. — 
 
 (Exit JSlARTEN ■ 
 
 Harrison I thou truest soldier 
 Of the good cause, to thee we trust the charge 
 Of guarding our great prisoner. Make thee ready 
 For a swift journey. I'll confer with thee 
 Alone afore thou goest. 
 
 Har. Should I not see 
 The General ? 
 
 Crom* Wherefore ? Hence. 
 
 (Exit Harrison- 
 
SCENE i] CHARLES THE FIRST. 7 
 
 (To Pride) Nay, Colonel, go not I 
 
 I'd speak with thee, good Colonel. Rest thee, son, 
 
 I'd speak with this good Colonel. 
 
 Pri. I attend 
 Yonr Excellency's pleasure. 
 
 (During the next few speeches Cromwell tvalks up 
 and down the stage, nofv speaking to himself, note looking 
 at the iveather, now asking questions, without attciuling 
 to the ansrvers, evidently absorbed in thought.) 
 
 Crom. Aye, the light 
 Mercurial Harry Marten said but sooth ; 
 They are unripe for this great charge. It shall be — 
 And yet — What is the hour ? 
 
 Pri. Upon the stroke 
 Of one. 
 
 Ire. He listens not. Look how he searches 
 The weather with unseeing eyes. 
 
 Crom. 'Tis stormy. 
 
 Pri. Nay a bright day. 
 
 Ire. He hears not. 
 
 Crom. Sweep them off, 
 And the whole game is ours ! But — Which way blows 
 The wind ?> 
 
 Pride. Right from the south. 
 
 Crom. It must be, shall be. 
 Ireton, I gave thee yesterday a scroll 
 Of the malignants in the Commons — Hark ye ! 
 The Commons, our great masters ! If Charles Stuart 
 Have friends in England, he will find them there 
 'Mid those self-seekers. 
 
 Pri. Wherefore not arraign 
 The King before the Council ? 
 
8 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act i, 
 
 Crom. Sir, we need 
 The Commons' name. I would not that our just 
 And righteous cause lacked any form of law 
 To startle tender consciences. I have thought 
 Afore of this. Didst never see the thrasher 
 Winnow the chaff from the full grain ? Good Colonel, 
 Thyself shalt play the husbandman to cleanse 
 This sample of foul corn. Take yonder scroll. 
 And with a troop of horse, go post thyself 
 Beside the Commons' door, and seize each man 
 Whose name stains that white parchment. Treat all well, 
 But let none enter. 
 
 Pri. And my warrant ? 
 
 Crom. Sir, 
 My word. If any question, say the General — 
 
 Pri. Lord Fairfax ? 
 
 Crom. Aye, the good Lord General 
 Shall hear of thy good service. Fear it not. 
 Myself shall tell him. Thy good service, dearer 
 Than half a dozen battles; better w^orth 
 And richlier guerdoned. Haste! Lord Grey of Groby 
 Will aid thee to detect the knaves. Away! 
 Full many a goodly manor shall change masters 
 To-morrow 'fore the sequestrators. 
 
 (Exit Pride. 
 
 Ire. So! 
 That work will be well done. 
 
 Crom. I loathe myself 
 That I employ the mercenary tool ; 
 But we are in our great aims justified, 
 Our high and holy purpose. Saints and prophets 
 Have used uncleanly instruments. Good son. 
 Keep between Fairfax and these men. The weak 
 Wife-ridden faintling would demur and dally, 
 
SCENE I.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 
 
 And pause at every step, and then draw back, 
 Unapt for good or ill. He must know nought. 
 
 Re-enter Harrison and Pride. 
 
 What make ye here again ? 
 Pri. Dost thou not hear ? 
 A mutiny amongst the soldiers. 
 
 Har. Nay, 
 But half a score malignants, who would fain 
 Stir up the soldiery. 
 Crom. And they ? 
 Har. They listen, 
 But move not. 
 
 Crom. Seize the traitors. Shoot them dead ; 
 If any murmur, still them too. Let death 
 Follow offence as closely as the sound 
 Of the harquebuss the flash. Art thou not gone? 
 What stops thee? 
 
 Har. Be more merciful 
 Crom. W^hy this 
 Is mercy. If thou saw'st one, match in hand 
 Approach a mine hollowed beneath some rich 
 And populous town, would' st strike him down at once. 
 Or wait till he had fired the train. 
 
 Har. At once ! 
 At once ! 
 
 Crom. Well? — Go thou too, fair son ! away! 
 I'll follow on the instant. Look I find 
 The guilty quiet. 
 
 Exeunt Harrison and Ireton. 
 
 We have been too easy 
 
 And fostered malcontents. Yet this swift vengeance 
 
1(1 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act i. 
 
 Will strike a wholesome terror, and the echo 
 May reach to higher miscreants. Good Colonel, 
 Thou loiterest overlong. Go, block the door 
 And let none pass. Be sure thou let none pass. 
 I must to yon poor traitors. Let none pass. 
 
 (Exeunt. 
 
 Scene II. — An Apartment in Carisbrooke Castle. 
 The King and Herbert. 
 
 King. Herbert! 
 
 Herbert. My liege. 
 
 King. Put up my book. I wait 
 The grave Commissioners, and to be seen 
 Poring o'er Shakespeare's page — Oh heinous sin ! 
 Inexpiable deadly sin ! 
 
 Herb. Your Grace 
 Speaks cheerily. 
 
 King. Why I have fed my thoughts 
 On the sweet woodland tale, the lovely tale 
 Of Ardenne Forest, till the peaceful end, 
 The gentle comfortable end, hath bathed 
 My very heart in sunshine. We are here 
 Banished as the old Duke, and friends come round. 
 And foes relent, and calm Forgiveness hangs. 
 An Angel, in the air, to drop her balm 
 On all our wounds. I thank thee, royal spirit, 
 Thrice princely poet, from whose lightest scene 
 Kings may draw comfort. Take yon sprig of bay 
 And lay between the leaves. I marvel much 
 Where loiter the Commissioners. 
 
 Herb. Your Grace 
 Hath vanquished them so often that they creep 
 Fearfully to the field — a beaten foe. 
 
5CENK II.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 11 
 
 King. Nay, we are near agreed. I have granted more 
 Than they durst think for. They set forth to day 
 Bearing my answer to the Commons. Look 
 To see a sudden peace. Many will deem 
 I have yielded overmuch ; but I keep quick 
 The roots of kingly power, albeit the boughs 
 Be shrewdly lopt. And then to see again 
 My wife, my children, to reward my poor 
 And faithful servants, to walk free, to reign ! 
 Look to see sudden peace. 
 
 Herb. Heaven speed the day ! 
 Yet, Sire, — forgive my fear ! — would thou hadst ta'en 
 The proffered means of safet\', had escaped 
 This Island prison ! 
 
 King. What ! when I had pledged 
 My word, my royal word ! Fie I fie ! good Herbert ; 
 Better, if danger were, a thousand fold 
 Perish even here than forfeit that great bond 
 Of honour, a King's word. Fie! fie! Yet sooth 
 Thou mean'st me kindly, Herbert. Ha! the Sea, 
 That day and night hath chased so angrily. 
 Breaking around us with so wild a coil, 
 An elemental warder, smiles again, 
 Merrily dancing in the cold keen light 
 Of the bright wintery Sun. We shall have boats 
 From England. 
 
 Herb. One hath landed. Sire. 
 
 King. And they 
 May bear my message without pause. Who comes ? 
 
 (Enter Hammond.J 
 
 Ham. May't please you, Sire, the high Commissioners 
 Crave audience of your Majesty. 
 King. Admit them> 
 
12 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act i 
 
 Enter Lord Salisbury, Lord Say, Sir Harry Vane, 
 and other Ccmimissioners, some of them Ministers. 
 
 See, Vane hath lost his frown I We shall have peace. 
 Good morrow my good Lord of Salisbury ! 
 Lord Say, Sir Harry Vane, and gentles all, 
 A fair good morrow. The sun smiles at last 
 Upon our meeting. 
 
 Say. Sunshine after storm ; 
 A happy omen, Sire, a type of peace. 
 
 Salts. Yet clouds are gathering. 
 
 Say. Tush ! the noon-day sun 
 Will overcome them. 
 
 Vane. Cease this heathenish talk 
 Of omens. Hath your grace prepared 3'our answer 
 To the proposals of the Commons ? 
 
 King. Reach 
 Yon paper Herbert. Set ye forth to-day ? 
 
 Vane. With the next tide. 
 
 King. So speed ye wind and w^ave, 
 And send ye swiftly hence, and swiftlier back 
 Blest messengers of peace, winged like the dove 
 That bore the olive token. Take my answer, 
 A frank compliance with each article 
 Save twain, save only twain. 
 
 Say. And they — I pray thee 
 Be wholl}^ gracious, Sire I Peril not thus 
 Your country's weal, your freedom, and yovu* crown, 
 By timeless reservation. 
 
 King. I have yielded 
 Power and prerogative, and state and wealth. 
 For my dear country. All that was mine own. 
 All that was mine to give, I freely gave; 
 Tliat I withhold is of the conscience. Look 
 
SCENE II.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 13 
 
 On these white hairs, and think if one so signed, 
 Marked for the grave, may for the vain respect 
 Of crowns or kingdoms offer up his friends 
 Or his old worship. Mark me : I'll not yield 
 A man of that devoted seven, nor bate 
 A word of my accustomed prayer, to save 
 My limbs from cankering fetters, or win back 
 That velvet prison, a throne. No more of this. 
 Bear ye the treaty, Sirs ; and use but half 
 That goodly gift of eloquence for me 
 That ye to me have shown, and be but heard . 
 With half the grace, and we shall meet full soon 
 Subject and King, in peace, in blessed peace. — 
 
 (Harrison heard without.) 
 Whoso asks entrance with so wild a din ? 
 Give him admittance quickly. 
 
 Vane. Yet, my liege, 
 For these seven cavaliers — 
 
 King. No more ! no more I 
 Thou hast my answer. — By the iron tread 
 A soldier. 
 
 Enter Harrison. 
 
 Salis. Harrison! What brings thee hither? 
 
 Har. a sad and solemn message to your prisoner. 
 
 King. Speak out thy tidings. Speak thine errand, Sir. 
 I am strong-hearted — Sovran privilege 
 Of them that tower so high I — Strong as yon eagle 
 That nests among the clitfs. I have borne loads 
 That would have sunk a meaner man in gulphs 
 Of deep despair. Thine errand. Stop ! Who sent thee ? 
 
 Har. The Commons. 
 
 King. Now thine errand. 
 
 Har. To demand 
 
14 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act i. 
 
 The body of Charles Stuart, sometime King 
 Of England— 
 
 King. Sometime King? 
 Har. Whom I attach 
 Of treason. 
 
 King. Treason and the King! Off, Sir! 
 1 warn thee touch me not. Some natures feel 
 A shuddering loathing at cold-blooded worms, 
 Snakes, aspics, vipers, toads — my flesh doth creep 
 And shiver if the reptile man approach 
 Too closely. Show thy warrant. 
 
 Har. Look you, Sir, 
 The warrant be obeyed. 
 
 Vane Dost thou not see 
 (to SaUsbiiry) The master hand of Cromwell in this deed? 
 (to Harrison) Where is the General ? 
 
 Har. Come victorious home — 
 Know'st thou not that ? — to lend his pious aid 
 To our great work. 
 
 Salis. But thou art from the Commons, 
 Not from the Council, — sure thou saidst the Commons ? 
 And they were earnest for the treaty. 
 
 Har. Aye, 
 But in that goodly field grew tares, rank tares, 
 Which have been weeded out : stiff presbyters. 
 Bitter malignants, and those sons of wrath 
 Who falter in the better path — dead boughs 
 Upon a noble tree. Some fifty horse 
 Swept off the rubbish. 
 Say. But the men are safe ? 
 
 Har. Even as thyself.— Now, sir, hast thou enough 
 Studied yon parchment ? 
 
 King. Treason! to arraign 
 A crowned King of treason ! 1 am here 
 
SCENE II.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 15 
 
 Treating with these same Commons on the faith, 
 
 The general faith of nations. I appeal 
 
 To ye, my foes ; to thee, my gaoler. What I 
 
 Stand ye all mute ? high lords and learned lawmen, 
 
 And reverend ministers ? Ye had glib tongues 
 
 For subtle argument, and treasonous craft. 
 
 And cobweb sophistry. Have ye no word 
 
 For faith, for honour? not one word? Shame! shame! 
 
 Vane. We are the Commons' servants, and must needs 
 Obey their mandates. 
 
 Say. Yet with grief of heart — 
 
 Har. Silence t 
 
 King. Aye, silence ! Sir, I thank thee yet 
 That sparest me that sharpest injury 
 A traitor's pity. For that gentle deed 
 I yield me gently to thy hands. Lead on 
 Where'er thou wilt; I follow. 
 
 Har. Straight to London. 
 To bide thy trial. 
 
 King. What! will they dare that? 
 Doth not the very thought, the very word 
 Appal the rebels ? Trial ! When we meet 
 Confronted in that regal Hall, the King 
 And his revolted subjects, whoso then 
 Shall be the Judge? The King. Whoso make inquest, 
 Whoso condemn, and whoso fling a pardon, 
 A scornful pardon on your heads ? The King, 
 The King, I tell ye. Sirs. Come on ! I pant 
 To meet these Judges. For ye, solemn mockers. 
 Grave men of peace, deceivers or deceived, 
 ^ncere or false boots little, fare ye well ! 
 Yet give me yon vain treaty— Now, by Heaven 
 I shame to have communed with ye!— This slight paper, 
 That shivers at a touch, is tough and firm 
 
IG CHARLES THE FIRST. [act. i. 
 
 Mated with such as ye. Bear to the Commons, 
 Your masters, yon torn fragments, fitting type 
 Of their divided factions! — fitting type 
 Of ye, men of a broken faith ! Farewell ! 
 I wait thy pleasure, Sir. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST ACT. 
 
seKNKi.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 17 
 
 T II. 
 
 SCENE 1. 
 
 The Painted Cliambei\ A table at ivhicli are seated Com- 
 missioners, Lawyers, &;c. ; a gothic unndow behind the 
 table i through which objects tluit jpass may be seen. 
 
 Bradshaw, Fairfax, Ireton, Downes, Cook, Mar- 
 ten, TicHBURN, t^r. Fairfax comes forrvard, fol- 
 knved by Bradshaw, Ireton, ajid Downes. 
 
 Fairfax. Soon as the day be fixed, apprize me, Sirs ; 
 The halberdiers shall wait ye. 
 
 Bradshaw. Good my lord 
 Thou wilt not leave us ? When did Fairfax fly 
 A post of danger ? and his honoured name 
 Stands foremost in our roll. 
 
 Fair. Sir, I am sworn 
 The soldier of the Commons, and as soldier 
 Obey them loyally. All that ye need 
 For state or for defence in this sad pageant 
 Our camp shall furnish. Save their General, 
 You may command the army. For this trial 
 I like it not. I am no gownsman. Sirs, 
 The halberdiers shall wait ye. 
 
 (Exit Fairfax. 
 
18 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act ii. 
 
 Mar. What a nice 
 And peevish conscienee Fairfax bears ! Will send 
 Arms, horses, men, to escort the prisoner, line 
 The Court, defend the judges, guard the scaffold — 
 If so our wisdom wills-— yet hold himself 
 Content and harmless, so his single voice 
 Swell not the general doom. 
 
 Dow. Yet 'tis a wise 
 And noble gentleman. 
 
 Brad. Tush ! a good sword-blade. 
 Keen in the field, but at the council dull 
 And heavy as the scabbard. 
 
 Enter Cromwell. 
 
 1-jo ! where comes 
 
 One whose bright spirit knows no dimness. Cromwell! 
 
 Crom. Hear ye the news my masters ? Harrison, 
 That l)old and zealous soldier of our Israel, 
 Is here. 
 
 Brad. Where is the King ? 
 
 Crom. The King of Kings 
 Delivers him unto us. Harrison 
 Awaits his landing. We must be prepared 
 For instant trial. Glad am I and proud 
 To greet with looks so firm and resolute 
 This full and frequent council. 
 
 Brad. Yet you met 
 A great one who forsakes us. 
 
 Crom. The Lord General ? 
 Why on the battle -day such loss might cause 
 An hour's perplexity. Now — Hark ye Sirs ! 
 Passing awhile Lord Fairliix' door I saw 
 The Queen. 
 
scKNiii.l CHARLES THE FIRST. 19 
 
 Ire. In England ! Didst thou see her face? 
 
 Crom. No. But I knew her by the wanton curls, 
 The mincing delicate step of pride, the gait 
 Erect and lofty. 'Twas herself, 1 sa}-, 
 Vain Jezabel ! 
 
 Dow. At Fairfax' gate ! Alas ! 
 Poor lady ! 
 
 Crom. (Aside) Hal And must we watch thee too? 
 No word of this good Sirs. 
 
 (Going to the table) 
 
 Why master Cook 
 What needs this long indictment ? Seems to me 
 Thou dost mistake our cause. The crime is not 
 A trivial larceny, where some poor thief 
 Is fenced and hemmed in by a form of words 
 In tedious repetition, endless links 
 Of the strong chain of law, lest at some loophole 
 The paltry wretch escape. We try a King, 
 In the stern name of Justice. Fling aside 
 These cumbering subtleties, this maze of words, 
 And in brief homely phrase, such as the soldier 
 May con over his watchfire, or the milk-maid 
 Wonderingly murmur as she tends her kine. 
 Or the young boy trace in his first huge scroll, 
 Or younger girl sew in her sampler, say 
 That we arraign Charles Stuart King of England 
 For warring on his people. Let this deed 
 Be clear and open as beseems the men 
 On whom the Lord hath set his seal. Besides 
 That will let loose thy stream of eloquence 
 Ice-bound by this cold freezing plea» What says 
 Our learned President ? 
 
20 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act ii. 
 
 Brad. Thou art right. Thou art right. 
 Our fair intent needs not a veil. Be sure 
 He shall have noble trial and speedy, such 
 As may beseem a King. 
 
 Dow. What is his bearing ? 
 
 Crom. Resolved and confident. Lately at Windsor 
 Eating a Spanish melon of choice flavour, 
 He bade his servant Herbert send the seeds 
 To be sowed straight at Hampton. 
 
 Mar. INIany men 
 Plant acorns for their successors ; this King sets 
 A gourd. 
 
 Crom. The Prophet's gourd. We are all mortal. 
 Sow but a grain of mustard, the green thing 
 Which soonest springs from death to life, and thou 
 Shalt wither ere the leaflets shoot. 
 
 Ire. The King 
 Deems that ye dare not try him. 
 
 Brad. Dare not ! Cromwell 
 How soon dost think — 
 
 Crom. Was't not the plash of oars ? 
 
 Brad. Cromwell ! 
 
 Ire. He hears thee not. His sense rejects- 
 All sound save that for which with such intense 
 And passionate zeal he listens. See his cheek 
 Quivers with expectation. Its old hue 
 Of ruddy brown is gone. 
 
 Crom. Hark ! Hark ! my masters ! 
 He is come I He is come! We are about to do 
 A deed which shall draw on us questioning eyes 
 From the astonied nations. Men shall gaze 
 Afeared and wondering on this spot of earth. 
 As on a comet in the Heavens, fatal 
 To kings of old. Start ye ? Why at the first 
 
SCENE II.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 21 
 
 I started, as a man who in a dream 
 
 Sees indistinct and terrible grim forms 
 
 Of death and danger float before his glazed 
 
 And wondering eyes ; but then as one who wakes 
 
 The inspiring light fell on me, and I saw 
 
 The guiding hand of Providence visibly 
 
 Beckoning to the great combat. We are His soldiers 
 
 Following the Cloud by day, the Fire by night : — 
 
 And shall we not be constant ? We are arrayed 
 
 Against the stiff combined embodied spirits 
 
 Of prelacy and tyranny : — Shall we not 
 
 Be bold ? 
 
 {The King, Herbert, Harrison, Repass the window.) 
 
 See ! See ! he passes ! So shall pass 
 
 The oppressor from the earth. His very shadow 
 
 The very traces of his foot are gone, 
 
 And the English ground is free, the English air 
 
 Free, free ! — All praise be to His mighty name ! 
 
 This is the crowning work. 
 
 (The Scene closes.) 
 
 Scene II. — A Gallery leading to the King's Prison. 
 The Queen, Lady Fairfax, a Centinel. 
 
 Lady Fairfax. Another guard ! The pass-word that 
 hath served us 
 Through court, and gate, and hall, will fail us here ; 
 This is the immediate prison of the King. 
 Say, Royal Madam, had we best accost 
 Yon centinel ? 
 
 Queen. The prison of the King! 
 And I have lived to hear those words that pierce 
 
22 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act ii. 
 
 My heart like daggers spoken familiarly 
 As she would say good day or fare ye well ! 
 The prison of the King ! England hath l)een 
 His prison — but this one leads — 'My Lady Fairfax 
 Command him to admit us. 
 
 Lady F. He draws nigh. 
 
 Centinel. Fair mistresses how won ye here ? This 
 gallery 
 Leads to the prisoner's chambers. 
 
 Lady F. We would see him. 
 Admit us. 
 
 Cent. Be ye frenetic ? know ye not 
 That, save the Lords Commissioners none dare 
 Approach the prisoner ? 
 
 Queen. Say the King. 
 
 Cent. Who art thou 
 That speak'st with such command ? 
 
 Lady F. Knovv-'st thou not me ? 
 Thy General's wife. 
 
 Cent. I am of Cromwell's soldiers, 
 And own no woman's rule. 
 
 Queen. Admit us, slave I 
 1 am the Queen, thy Queen, the Queen of England ! 
 Make way. 
 
 Cent. Stand back 1 say. 
 
 Queen. I am a wife 
 Seeking her husband in his prison. Soldier, 
 If thou have a man's heart ! 
 
 Lady F. Here's money for thee — 
 Admit her. 
 
 Cent. I have fought in twenty lields 
 A veteran of the cause. Put up your gold. 
 And, madam, please you home ! 
 
 Queen. Here is my home, — 
 My husband's prison gate. I'll Jive herc^ die hero. 
 
SCENE n] CHARLES THE FmST. 23 
 
 Here will I watch without as he within, 
 
 Till death, the great deliverer comes to free 
 
 The captives. This shall be my grave. Charles ! Charles ! 
 
 Lady F. Peace ! Peace ! 
 
 Queen. I thought I heard him. Charles ! my Charles ! 
 My King ! My Husband ! 
 
 Cent. There are many chambers 
 Between thee and the King. I prythee hence ! 
 
 Lady F. Madam, take patience. 
 
 Queen. Charles ! He must be dead 
 Already that he answers not. 
 
 Enter Cromwell. 
 
 Crom. What means 
 This clamorous din of female tongues so near 
 The prison of the King ? The Lady Fairfax ! 
 
 Queen. Cromw^ell ! 
 
 Crom. The Queen ! 
 
 Queen. Cromwell I hated thee, 
 Yet open yonder door, and I'll pray for thee 
 All my life long. Yon churlish centinel — 
 
 Crom. Did but his duty. Lead her to her husband. 
 
 Queen. Be quick ! Be quick! 
 
 Crom. The word is Naseby. 
 
 Queen. On ! 
 Be quick. Be quick I 
 
 (Exeunt Queen and Centinel) 
 
 Crom. Now my good Lady Fairfax, 
 Right well beseemeth christian charity 
 To succour them that suffer ; howsoe'er 
 Midst strict professors it may breed some marvel 
 That one so famed for rigid sanctity, 
 The gravest matron of the land should herd 
 With yonder woman. 
 
24 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act ii 
 
 Lady F. With the Queen ? 
 
 Crom. a papist ; 
 A rank Idolater ; a mumming masquer ; 
 A troller of lewd songs ; a wanton dancer ; 
 A vain upholder of that strength of Satan 
 The playhouse. They that be so eminent 
 As thou will find maligners ; 'tis the curse 
 Of our poor fallen nature. Be not seen 
 Hovering about these walls. I speak in love 
 Of the Lord General. 
 
 Lady F. The Lord General, 
 And many a godly minister, and I, 
 Weak woman though I be, mourn that these walls 
 Should come between the King and people. Peace 
 Had been a holier bond. 
 
 Crom. Peace ! that our General 
 The good Lord Fairfax, Captain of the guard, 
 Should tend the popish ladies to their mass ; — 
 A high promotion ! Peace ! that every dungeon 
 May swarm with pious ministers ; — forget they 
 Their old oppressions ? Peace ! that the grave matron 
 The Lady Fairfax may with troubled thoughts 
 Sit witness of lewd revels ; mock and scorn 
 Of the light dames of the chamber, and the lordlings 
 Their gallants ; — popinjays who scoff and jeer 
 At the staid solemn port, the decent coif, 
 The modest kerchief. I have heard such jeers 
 When yon gay Queen hath laughed. 
 
 Lady F. Laughed ! Hath she dared ! 
 Vain minion ! 
 
 Crom. And to see thee with her ! Thou 
 That shouldst have been a Jael in this land, 
 A Dehor ah, a Judith ! 
 
 Lady F. Nay, we live 
 Under a milder law. Whate'er their crimes 
 
scRXE m.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 25 
 
 Urge not this bloody tiial. 
 
 Crom. Whoso saith 
 That the trial shall be bloody ? He who reads 
 All hearts, He only knows how my soul yearns 
 Toward yonder pair. I seek them now, a friend. 
 With friendly proffers. As we reach thy coach 
 I'll tell thee more. Come, madam ! 
 
 {Exeunt.) 
 
 Scene 111. — The Kings Apartments. 
 
 The King and Herbert. 
 
 King. Herbert I 
 
 Her. An' please your Majesty. 
 
 King. Go seek 
 The General. 
 
 Her. Fairfax? 
 
 King. Cromwell! Cromwell! say 
 The King commands his presence. 
 
 (Exit Herbert. J 
 To fore-run him, 
 
 To plunge at once into this stormy sea 
 Of griefs, to summon my great foe, to front 
 The obdurate Commons, the fanatic army. 
 Even the mock judges, they who dare to reign 
 Over a King, to breast them all ! Then trial, 
 Or peace ! Death or the crown ! Rest comes with either 
 To me and England, comfortable rest. 
 After my many wanderings. 
 
 Enter the Queen. 
 
 Henrietta ! 
 
 My wife, my Queen, is't thou? Is't not a dream ? 
 
26 . CHARLES THE FIRST. [act ii. 
 
 For 1 liave dreamed so, and awakened — Heaven 
 Shield me from such a waking ! Is't a truth ? 
 
 Queen. Do not my tears give answer ? Did that vision 
 Rain drops of joy like these ? 
 
 King. To see thee here 
 Is to be young and free again, again 
 A bridegroom and a King. 
 
 QuE^N. Ever my King I 
 
 King. I have heard nothing like that voice of hope 
 Since we were parted. 
 
 Queen. Wherefore dost thou pause ? 
 Why gaze on me so mournfully ? 
 
 King. Alas ! 
 Thou art pale, my Henrietta, very pale. 
 And this dear hand that was so round and fair 
 Is thin and wan — Oh very wan ! 
 
 Queen. 'Twas pining 
 For thee that made it so. Think on the cause. 
 And thou' It not mourn its beauty. 
 
 King. And this grief, 
 Will kill her ! Joined to any other man 
 She might have lived on in her loveliness 
 For half an age. She's mine, and she will die. 
 Oh this is a sad meeting ! I have longed 
 Have prayed to see thee — now — Would thou wast safe 
 In France again, my dear one I 
 
 Queen. Say not so. 
 I bring thee comfort, safety. Holland, France, 
 Are firmly with thee ; save the army, all 
 This rebel England is thine own ; and e'en 
 Amid the army some the greatest, some 
 That call themselves thy judges. 'Tis the turn 
 Of fate ; the reflux of the tide. 
 
 King. Forget not 
 
SCENE ill.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 27 
 
 That I am a prisoner, sweet-one ; a foredoomed 
 Discrowned prisoner. As erewhile I passed 
 Sadly along, a soldier in his mood 
 Spat on me : none rebuked him ; none cried shame ; 
 None cleft the coward to the earth. 
 
 Queen. Oh traitors ! 
 Oh sacrilegious rebels ! Let my lips 
 Wipe off that scorn. My Charles, thou shalt resume 
 Thy state, shalt sit enthroned, a judge, a King, 
 Even in the solemn Hall, the loftj" seat 
 Of their predestined treason. For thy life 
 It is assured — Lord Broghill and a band 
 Of faithful Cavaliers — ^But thou shalt reign. 
 
 King. Dost thou remember Cromwell ? Ere thou 
 quitted' st 
 England he was mo.st like the delving worm 
 Hypocrisy ; that slough is cast, and now 
 His strong and shining wings soar high in air 
 As proud ambition. First demand of him 
 What King shall reign. 
 
 Queen. He is my trust. 
 
 King. Hast seen him ? 
 
 Queen. He sent me to thee now. 
 
 King. Ha, wherefore! But I've learned to trust in 
 nought 
 Save Heaven. Since thou art here 1 am content 
 To live and reign, but all in honour. I'll 
 Renounce no creed, resign no friend, abandon 
 No right or lil3erty of this abused 
 Misguided people ; no nor bate one jot 
 Of the old prerogative, my privilege. 
 The right divine of Kings. Death w^ere to me 
 As w^elcome as his pleasant evening rest 
 To the poor way-worn traveller ;— And yet 
 
2H CHARLES THE FIRST. [act ii 
 
 1 fain would live for thee — Cheer up, fair wife 1 — 
 Would live for love and thee. Hast seen thy children ? 
 
 Queen Not yet. They say Elizabeth, whose face 
 Even when a little cliild resembled thine, 
 To wonder, hath pined after thee, and fed 
 Her love by thinking on thee, till she hath stolen 
 Unconsciously thy mien and tone and words 
 Of patient pensiveness; a dignity 
 Of youthful sorrow, beautiful and sad. 
 
 King. Poor child ! poor child! a woeful heritage ! 
 When I have gazed on the sweet seriousness 
 Of her young beauty, I have pictured her 
 In the bright May of life, a Queenly bride, 
 Standing afore the altar with that look 
 Regal and calm, and pure as the azure skies 
 Of Paradise ere tears were born. Now — ■ 
 
 Enter Cromwell. 
 
 Cromwell ! 
 
 Crom, Did'st thou desire my presence? 
 
 King. I sent for thee 
 To bear my message to thy comrades. 
 
 Crom. Sir, 
 I wait thy pleasure. I would welcome thee 
 Unto this goodly city — ■ 
 
 King. Doth the gaoler 
 Welcome his prisoner? I am Charles Stuart, 
 And thou — ^Now shame on this rebellious blood ! 
 1 thought that it was disciplined and schooled 
 Into proud patience. Let me not appear 
 Discourteous — Sir, the King is bounden to thee ! 
 Now hear mine errand. 
 
 Queen. Tush; hear me 1 
 
scKNE III.] (3HARLES THE FIRST. 29 
 
 Crom. The Queen I 
 
 Queen. Fie ! doff this strangeness, when it was thyself 
 That sent me hither ! Cast aside the smooth 
 Obedient looks which hide thy thoughts. Be plain 
 And honest, Cromwell. 
 Crom. I have ever been so. 
 
 Queen. Open in speech and heart, even as my.self, 
 When I, thy Queen, hold out the hand of peace 
 And amity, and bid thee say what title 
 The King shall give to his great General. 
 
 Crom. None. 
 Thou bad'st me answer plainly. 
 
 Queen. Yet thou wast 
 Ambitious once. 
 
 Crom. Grant that I were, — as well 
 I trust I had more grace, — but say I were so, 
 Think' st thou not there be homely names which sound 
 As sweetly in men's ears ? which shall outlive 
 A thousand titles in that book of fame, 
 History ? All praise be to the Lord ! I am not 
 Ambitious. 
 
 Queen. Choose thine office. Keep the name 
 Thy sword hath rendered famous. Be Lord Vicar ; 
 Be Captain of the Guard; forbid this suit — ■ 
 Thou can'st an if thou wilt — be Charles's friend 
 And second man in the kingdom. 
 
 Crom. Second! Speak' st thou 
 These tempting words to me ? I nor preside 
 O'er court or Parliament ; I am not. Madam, 
 Lord General of the army. Seek those great ones. 
 My place is in the ranks. Would'st thou make me 
 The second in the kingdom ? Seek those great ones. 
 The second ! 
 
 Queen. Thou, and well thou know'st it, Cromwell, 
 
30 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act. ii. 
 
 Art the main prop of this rebellion ! General, 
 Lord President, what are they but thy tools, 
 Thy puppets, moved by thy directing will 
 As chessmen by the skilful player. 'Tis thou 
 That art the master-spirit of the time, 
 Idol of people and of army, leader 
 Of the fanatic Commons, judge, sole judge 
 Of this unrighteous cause. 
 
 Crom. And she would make me 
 The second man of the kingdom I Tiiou but troublest 
 Thyself and me. 
 
 Queen. Yet hear me but one word. 
 
 Crom. No more of bribes ! — thou bad'st me to speak 
 plainly : 
 Thou hast been bred in courts and deemest them 
 Omnipotent o'er all. But I eschew 
 The Mammon of unrighteousness. 1 warn ye 
 Ye shall learn faith in one man's honesty 
 Before ye die. 
 
 Queen. Never in thine I At Holmby 
 We trusted — Fool again — 'Twas not in fear ; 
 I dread thee not. " Thou dar'st not try the King. 
 The very word stands as a double guard, 
 A triple armour, a bright shield bel'ore him ; 
 A sacred halo plays around the head 
 Anointed and endiademed, a dim 
 Mysterious glory. Who may dare to call 
 For justice on a King ? Who dare to touch 
 The crowned and lofty head ? 
 
 Crom. Was it at Hardwick, 
 Or Fotheringay, — fie on my dull brain — 
 That the fair Queen of Scots, the popish woman, ' 
 The beautiful, his grandame died ? 
 
 Queen. A Queen, 
 
SCENE III.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 31 
 
 A vain and envious woman, yet a Queen, 
 Condemned Queen Mary. Ye are subjects, rebels, 
 Ye dare not try your King; all else ye may do ; 
 All else ye have done ; fought, imprisoned, chased, 
 Aye, tracked and hunted, like that pious Henry, 
 The last of the red-rose, whom visiting 
 
 o 
 
 Helpless in prison, his arch enemy 
 
 The fiendish Richard slew; — even as perchance — 
 
 Crom. Shame on thy slanderous tongue ! There lies 
 my sword. 
 Did'st take me for a murderer ? Harken, Madam ; 
 When thou shalt speak again of Henry's death. 
 Remember 'twas the restless shrew of Anjou 
 That drove her gentle husband to his end. 
 
 King. Take up the sword; and, wife, I prythee peace ! 
 I yet am King enough to end these brawls. 
 Take up thy sv^^ord ! Albeit my breast be bare. 
 And I unarmed before him, he'll not strike. 
 That Avere an honest murder. There be ways 
 Stiller and darker ; there be men whose craft 
 Can doom with other tongues, with other hands 
 Can slay. I know thee. Sir. 
 
 Crom. I would not slay 
 A sinner unprepared. 
 
 King. Go to! I know thee. 
 Say to the Parliament that I demand 
 A conference Lords and Commons. 
 
 Crom. Sir, the Commons 
 Will grant no conference. Thou must address thee 
 To the High Court of Justice, to thy judges. 
 
 King. Oh vain and shallow treason I Have ye not 
 The King's High Court, the judges of the land? 
 I own no other. Yet if they — 
 
 Crom. Expect 
 
32 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act h. 
 
 Nothing of them but justice. I came to thee. 
 As to a brother, in pure charit}', 
 In meek and Christian love, when these sharp taunts 
 Arose betwixt us. Still I fain would save thee. 
 Resign the crown. 
 
 King. Never. 
 
 Crom. Oh vanity 
 Of man's proud heart ! cling to that sinful toy 
 A sound, an echo, a dim shadow, weakening 
 As the true substance flies^cling to that word. 
 And cast away thy life ! 
 
 King. Hold Henrietta ! 
 What ! Dost thou ask me for so poor a boon 
 As life to change fair honour? I've a son, 
 A gallant princely boy — would'st have me yield 
 The old ancestral crown, his heritage. 
 For the small privilege to crawl awhile 
 On this vile earth, mated with fouler worms 
 Than they that sleep below ? Would'st have me sell 
 My Kingdom for a little breath ? 
 
 Crom. Thy Kingdom ! 
 Thou hast not a stronghold left. 
 
 King, I have one here. 
 Thou know'st my answer. 
 
 Queen. Yet if there be danger — 
 
 King. Peace, dearest, peace ! Is the day fixed ? 
 
 Crom. The day, 
 The very hour, is set. At noon tomorrow. 
 Heaven permitting—* 
 
 King. The decrees of Heaven 
 Be oft to man's dark mind inscrutable : 
 The lightning flame hath fired the straw-thatched roof 
 Of harmless cottagers, hath rent the spire 
 Of consecrated temples, hath struck down 
 
SCENE m.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 33 
 
 Even the dumb innocent oak that never lied 
 
 Never rebelled, never blasphemed. A veil 
 
 Hangs before Heaven's high purpose. Yet when man 
 
 Slays man, albeit no King, a reckoning comes 
 
 A deep and awful reckoning. I'll abide 
 
 The trial. 
 
 Crom. At thy peril. 
 
 END OF THE SECOND ACT. 
 
34 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act lu. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 S C E N E 1. 
 
 Westminster Hall fitted up for the King's TriaL 
 Bradshaw, seflfed as President; Cromwell, Ireton, 
 Harrison, Downes, Marten, Tichburne, and other 
 Judges on benches; Cook and other Lawyers, Clerks, 
 ^c, at a table ; a chair of State for the King ofi one 
 side ; the Queen, veiled, and other Ladies in a Gallery 
 behind; the whole stage filled loith Guards Spectators, 
 
 Brad. Hath every name been called ? And every Judge 
 Appeared at the high summons ? 
 
 Clerk. Good my Lord, 
 Each one hath answered. 
 
 Ire. (to Cronvi-ell) The Lord General 
 Is wanting still. 
 
 Crom. The better. 
 
 Ire. How? 
 
 Crom. Fair son 
 We have enow of work — Doth not you cry 
 Announce the prisoner ? — enow of work 
 For one brief day vAnthout him. — Downes sit here 
 Beside me man. — ^We lack not waverers ; 
 Men whose long doubts would hold from rosy dawn 
 
SCENE i-l CHARLES THE FIRST. 35 
 
 To the slow lighting of the evening star 
 
 In the clear Heaven of June. Of such as they 
 
 One were too many. How say'st thou good Downes ? 
 
 Dow. Even as thou say'st. 
 
 Crom. Yet 'tis a valiant General, 
 A godly and a valiant. Ha! the prisoner ! 
 
 Enter the King, attended by H.brbi:rt and other Servants, 
 Hacker and guards. 
 
 (The Soldiers ^c. as the King ivalks to his chair cry 
 ' ' Justice ! Justice .' " J 
 
 Crier. Peace ! silence in the court ! 
 
 Brad. Ye shall have justice. 
 My Lords Commissioners, whilst I stood pausing 
 How fitliest to disclose our mighty plea, 
 Dallying with phrase and form, yon eager cry 
 Shot like an arrow to the mark, laying bare 
 The very core of our intent. Sirs, we 
 Are met to render justice, met to judge 
 In such a cause as scarce the lucent sun 
 That smiles upon us from his throne hath seen 
 Since light was born. We sit to judge a King 
 Arraigned by his own people ; to make inquest 
 Into the innocent blood which hath been spilled 
 Like water ; into crime and tyranny, 
 Treason and murder. Look that we be pure 
 My brethren I that we cast from out our hearts 
 All blinding passions : Fear that blinks and trembles 
 At shadows ere they come ; Pride that M''alks dazzled 
 In the light of her vainglory ; feeble Pity 
 Whose sight is quenched in tears ; and grim Revenge 
 Her fierce eyes sealed with gore. Look that we chase 
 
 F 2 
 
36 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act m. 
 
 Each frail aHection, each fond hidden sin, 
 Each meaner virtue from our hearts, and cling 
 To Justice, only Justice. Now for thee 
 Charles Stuart King of England : Thou art here 
 To render compt of awful crimes, of treason 
 Conspiracy and murder. Answer I 
 
 Cook. First 
 May it please you hear the charge ? 
 
 King. Stop! Who are ye 
 That dare to question me? 
 Brad. Thy Judges. 
 King. Say 
 My subjects. I am a King whom none may judge 
 On earth. Who sent ye here ? 
 Brad. The Commons. 
 King. What! 
 Be there no traitors, no conspirators 
 No murderers save Kings, that they dare call 
 Stern justice down from Heaven ? Sir I fling back 
 The charge upon their heads, the guilt, the shame, 
 The eternal infamy, — on them who sowed 
 The tares of hate in fields of love ; who armed 
 Brother 'gainst brother, breaking the sweet peace 
 Of country innocence, the holy ties 
 Of nature breaking, making war accurst 
 As that Egyptian plague the worst and last 
 When the First-born were slain. I have no answer 
 For them or ye. I know ye not. 
 
 Brad. Be warned ; 
 Plead to the accusation. 
 
 King. I will die 
 A thousand deaths, rather than by my breath 
 Give life to this new court against the laws 
 And liberties of England. 
 
scKNKi.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 37 
 
 Brad. Sir we know 
 Your love of liberty and England. Call 
 The witnesses. Be they in court? 
 
 Cook. They wait 
 Without. 
 
 Brad. Send for them quickly. Once again 
 King wilt thou plead ? 
 
 King. Thou hast my answer, never. 
 
 (A pause of a fetv moments during which the head of the 
 Kings stnjf on which he was leaning falls and rolls 
 across the stage.) 
 
 Mar. (to Iretnn) What fell ? The breathless silence 
 of this vast 
 And crowded court gives to each common sound 
 A startling clearness. What hath fallen? 
 
 Ire. The head 
 Of the King's staff. See how it spins and bounds 
 Along the floor, as hurrying to forsake 
 The royal wretch its master. Now it stops 
 At Cromwell's feet — direct at Cromwell's feet. 
 Crom. The toy is broken. 
 Har. What is the device ? 
 Some vain Idolatrous image ? 
 
 Crom. No, a crown ; 
 A gilded crown, a hollow glittering crown. 
 Shaped by some quaint and cunning goldsmith. Look 
 On what a reed he leans, who props himself 
 On such a bauble. 
 
 Dow. It rolled straight to thee ; — ■ 
 If thou wast superstitious — 
 
 Crom. Pass the toy 
 On to the prisoner ! he hath faith in omens — 
 I — fling him back his gewgaw ! 
 
38 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act hi. 
 
 Brad. Master Cook 
 We wait too long. 
 
 Cook. INIy Lord the witnesses — 
 
 Brad. Call any man. Within our bleeding land 
 There lives not one so blest in ignorance 
 As not to know this treason. None so high 
 But the storm overtopped him ; none so low 
 But the wind stooped to root him up. Call any man 
 The Judge upon the bench, the Halberdier 
 That guards the door. 
 
 Cook. Oliver Cromwell! 
 
 Crom. Aye? 
 
 Cook. No need to swear him. He hath ta'en already 
 The Judges' oath. 
 
 Crom. The Judges' oath, not this. 
 Omit no form of guardian law, remember 
 The life of man hangs on our lips. 
 
 King. Smooth traitor ! 
 
 f Cromwell is Sworn.) 
 
 Cook. Lieutenant General Cromwell, wast thou present 
 Tn the great fight of Naseby? 
 
 Crom. Was I present! 
 Why 1 think ye know that. I was. 
 
 Cook. Didst see 
 The prisoner in the battle ? 
 
 Crom. Many times. 
 He led his army, in a better cause 
 I should have said right gallantly. I saw him 
 First in the onset, last in the retreat. 
 That justice let me pay the King. 
 
 Brad. Raised he 
 His banner 'gainst his people ? Didst thou see 
 
scENK I.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 39 
 
 The royal standard in the field ? 
 
 Crom. My Lord 
 It rose full in the centre of their host 
 Floating upon the heavy air. 
 
 Cook. The arms 
 Of England? 
 
 Crom. Aye, the very lion shield 
 That waved at Cressi and at Azincourt 
 Triumphant. None may better know than I, 
 For it so pleased the Ruler of the Field, 
 The Almighty King of Battles, that my arm 
 Struck down the standard-bearer and restored 
 The English lion to the lion hearts 
 Of England. 
 
 Cook. Please you; Sir, retire. Now summon— 
 
 King. Call not another. What I have done boldly, 
 In the face of day and of the nation, that, 
 Nothing repenting, nothing derogating 
 From the King's high perogative, as boldly 
 As freely I avow — to you — to all men. 
 I own ye not as Judges. Ye have power 
 As pirates or land robbers o'er the wretch 
 Entrapped within their den, a power to mock 
 Your victim with a form of trial, to dress 
 Plain murder in a mask of law. As Judges 
 1 know ye not. 
 
 Brad. Enough that you confess 
 The treason — 
 
 King. Stop ! Sir, I appeal to them 
 Whence you derive your power. 
 
 Brad. The people ? King 
 Thou seest them here in us. 
 
 King. Oh that my voice 
 Could reach my loyal people I That the winds 
 
40 CHARLES THE FIRST. [^act hi. 
 
 Could waft the echoes of this groined roof 
 
 So that each corner of the land might hear, 
 
 From the fair Southern vallies to the hills 
 
 Of my own native North, from the bleak shores 
 
 Of the great ocean to the channeled West, 
 
 Their rightful Monarch's cry. Then should ye hear 
 
 From the universal nation, town and plain, 
 
 Forest and village, the stern awful shout 
 
 Of just deliverance, mighty and prolonged. 
 
 Deafening the earth and piercing Heaven, and smiting 
 
 Each guilty conscience with such fear as waits 
 
 On the great Judgment-Day. The wish is vain — 
 
 Ah ! vainer than a dream ! I and my people 
 
 Are over-mastered. Yet, Sir, I demand 
 
 A conference with these masters. I'ell the Commons 
 
 The King would speak with them. 
 
 Brad. We have no power 
 To stay the trial. 
 
 Dow. Nay, good my Lord, perchance 
 The King" would yield such reason as might move 
 The Commons to renew the treat\'. Best 
 Confer with them. 
 
 Crom. fto Donmes) Art mad ? 
 
 Dow. 'Tis ye are mad 
 That urge with a remorseless haste this work 
 Of savage butchery onward. 1 was mad 
 That joined ye. 
 
 Crom. This is sudden. 
 
 Dow. He's our King. 
 
 Crom. Our King ! Have we not faced him in the field 
 A thousand times ? Our King ! Downes, hath the Lord 
 Forsaken thee ? Why 1 have seen thyself 
 Hewing through mailed battalia, till thy sword 
 And thy good arm were dyed in gore, to reach 
 
SCENE m.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 41 
 
 Yon man. Didst mean to save him ? Listen, Sir, 
 
 I am thy friend. 'Tis said, — I lend no ear 
 
 To slanderers, but this tale was forced upon me — 
 
 'Tis said that one whose grave and honoured name 
 
 Sorts ill with midnight treachery, was seen 
 
 Stealing from the Queen's lodging ! — I'm thy friend. 
 
 Thy fast friend ! We oft see in this bad world 
 
 The shadow Envy crawling stealthily 
 
 Behind fair Virtue ; — I hold all for false 
 
 Unless thou prove it true ; — I am thy friend ! — 
 
 But if the sequestrators heard this tale — ■ 
 
 Thou hast broad lands. (Aloud) Why do ye pause ? 
 
 Cook. My high 
 And honouring task to plead at this great bar 
 For lawful liberty, for suffering conscience, 
 For the old guardians of our rights the Commons, 
 Against the lawless fiend Prerogative, 
 The persecuting Church, the tyrant King, 
 Were needless now and vain. The haughty prisoner 
 Denies your jurisdiction. I call on ye 
 For instant judgment. 
 
 Brad. Sir, for the last time 
 I ask thee, wilt thou plead ? 
 
 King, Have I not answered? 
 
 Cook. Your judgment, good my Lords ! 
 
 Brad. All ye who deem 
 Charles Stuart guilty, rise ! 
 
 (The Judges all stmid vp.) 
 
 King. What all ! 
 
 Brad. Not one 
 Is wanting. Clerk, record him guilty. 
 
 Cook. Now 
 The sentence ! 
 
48 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act m. 
 
 Queen, (from the Gallery) Traitors, hold! 
 
 Crom. (To Ireton) Heard' st thou a scream ? 
 
 Ire. 'Tis the malignant wife of Fairfax. 
 
 Crom. No ! 
 A greater far than she. 
 
 Queen. Hold, murderers ! 
 
 Crom. (aloud) Lead 
 Yon railing woman from her seat. My Lord, 
 Please you proceed. 
 
 Queen, (rushing to the King) Traitors, here is my 
 seat — 
 I am the Queen ; — here is my place, my state, 
 My I^ord and Sovereign, — here at thy feet. 
 I claim it with a prouder humbler heart, 
 A lowlier duty, a more loyal love. 
 Than when the false and glittering diadem 
 Encircled first my brow, a queenly bride. 
 Put me not from thee ! scorn me not ! I am 
 Thy wife. 
 
 King. Oh true and faithful wife ! Yet leave me, 
 Lest the strong armour of my soul, her patience, 
 Be melted by thy tears. Oh go ! go ! go ! 
 This is no place for thee. 
 
 Queen. Why thou art here ! 
 Who shall divide us ? 
 
 Ire. Force her from him. Guards ; 
 Remove her. 
 
 King. Tremble ye who come so near 
 As but to touch her garments. Cowards ! Slaves ! 
 Though the King's power be gone, yet the man's strength 
 Remains unwithered. She's my wife ; my all. 
 
 Crom. None thinks to harm the Lady. Good my 
 Lord, 
 The hour M^ears fast with these slight toys. 
 
SCENE 1.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 41 
 
 Queen. I come 
 To aid ye, not impede. If in this land 
 To wear the lineal crown, maintain the laws, 
 Uphold the insulted Church, be crimes, then I 
 Am guilty, guiltier than your King. 'Twas I 
 That urged the war — ye know he loved me ; — I 
 That prompted his bold councils ; edged and 
 
 whetted 
 His great resolves ; spurred his high courage on 
 Against ye, rebels ! 1 that armed my knight 
 And sent him forth to battle. Mine the crime ; — 
 Be mine the punishment ! Deliver him, 
 And lead me to the block. Pause ye ? My blood 
 Is royal too. Within my veins the rich 
 Commingled stream of princely Medici 
 And regal Bourbon flows : 'Twill mount as high, 
 
 Twill stain your axe as red, t'will feed as full 
 Your hate of Kings. 
 
 Crom. Madam, we wage no war 
 
 On women. 
 
 Queen. I have warred on ye, and now — • 
 
 Take heed how ye release me ! He is gentle 
 Patient and kind ; he can forgive. But I 
 
 Shall roam a frantic widow through the world, 
 
 Counting each day for lost that hath not gained 
 
 An enemy to England, a revenger 
 
 Of this foul murder. 
 
 Har. Woman, peace I The sentence ! 
 
 Queen. F'our sentence, bloody judges ! As ye deal 
 
 With your anointed King the red right arm 
 
 Of Heaven shall avenge him : here on earth 
 
 By clinging fear and black remorse, and death 
 
 Unnatural ghastly death, and then the fire, 
 
 The eternal fire, where panting murderers gasp 
 
♦4 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act m 
 
 And cannot die, that deepest Hell which holds 
 The Regicide. 
 
 Brad. Peace! 1 have overlong 
 Forgotten my great office. Hence ! or force 
 Shall rid us of thy frenz\^ Know'st thou not 
 That curses light upon the curser's head, 
 As surely as the cloud which the sun drains 
 From the salt sea returns into the wave 
 In stormy gusts or plashing showers ? Remove her. 
 
 Queen. Oh mercy ! mercy! I'll not curse; I'll be 
 As gentle as a babe. Ye cannot doom him 
 Whilst I stand by. Even the hard headsman veils 
 His victim's eyes before he strikes, afeared 
 Lest his heart fail. And could ye, being men 
 Not fiends, abide a wife's keen agony 
 Whilst — I'll not leave thee Charles ! I'll never leave thee 
 
 King. This is the love stronger than life, the love 
 Of woman. Henrietta, listen. Loose 
 Thy arms from round my neck ; here is no axe ; 
 This is no scaffold. We shall meet anon 
 Untouched, unharmed ; I shall return to thee 
 Safe, safe, — shall bide with thee. Listen my dear one, 
 Thy husband prays, thy King commands thee, Go ! 
 Go ! Lead her gently, very gently. 
 
 (Exit the Queen led.) 
 Now 
 1 am ready. Speak your doom, and quickly. 
 
 Brad. Death. 
 Thou art adjudged to die. Sirs, do ye all 
 Accord in this just sentence ? 
 
 The Judges all stand up. 
 
 King. I am ready. 
 To a grey head, aching with royal cares, 
 
SCENE I.J CHARLES THE FIRST. 45 
 
 The block is a kind pillow. Yet once more — 
 
 Brad. Silence. The Sentence is pronounced; the time 
 Is past. Conduct him from the Court. 
 
 King. Not hear me ! 
 Me your anointed King ! Look ye what justice 
 A meaner man may hope for. 
 
 Crom. Why refuse 
 His death-speech to a prisoner ? Whoso knoweth 
 What weight hangs on his soul. Speak on and fear not. 
 
 King. Fear ! Let the guilty fear. Feel if my pulse 
 Flutter ? Look if my cheek be faded ? Harken 
 If my calm breathing be not regular, 
 Even as an infant's who hath dropt asleep 
 Upon its mother's breast ? As I lift up 
 This Sword, miscalled of Justice, my clear voice 
 Hoarsens nor falters not. See, I can smile 
 As thinking on the axe, I draw the bright 
 Keen edge across my hand. Fear ! Would ye ask 
 What weight is on my soul, I tell ye none 
 Save that I yielded once to your decree, 
 And slew my Faithfullest. Oh Strafford I Strafford I 
 This is a retribution I 
 
 Brad. Better weep 
 Thy sins than one just holy act. 
 
 King, For ye 
 My subject-judges I could weep ; for thee 
 Beloved and lovely country. Thou wilt groan 
 Under the tyrant Many till some bold 
 And crafty soldier, one who in the field 
 Is brave as the roused lion, at the Council 
 Watchful and gentle as the couchant pard, 
 The lovely spotted pard, what time she stoops 
 To spring upon her prey; one who puts on, 
 
46 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act. m. 
 
 To win each several soul, his several sin, 
 
 A stern fanatic, a smooth hypocrite, 
 
 A fierce rebublican, a coarse buffoon, 
 
 Always a great bad man ; till he shall come, 
 
 And climb the vacant throne, and fix him there, 
 
 A more than King. Cromwell, if such thou know'»t 
 
 Tell him the rack would prove an easier couch 
 
 Than he shall find that throne ; tell him the crown 
 
 On an Usurper's brow will scorch and burn. 
 
 As though the diamonded and ermined round 
 
 Were framed of glowing steel. 
 
 Crom. Hath His dread wrath 
 Smitten thee with frenzy ? 
 
 King. Tell him, for thou know' st him, 
 That Doubt and Discord like fell harpies wait 
 Around the Usurper's board. By night, by day, 
 Beneath the palace roof, beneath that roof 
 More fair, the summer .sky, fear shall appal 
 And danger threaten, and all natural loves 
 Wither and die ; till on his dying bed. 
 Old fore his time, the wretched traitor lies 
 Heartbroken. Then, for well thou know'st him, Crom- 
 
 we'l, 
 Bid him to think on me, and how 1 fell 
 Hewn in my strength and prime, like a proud oak, 
 The tallest of the forest, that but shivers 
 His glorious top and dies. Oh! thou shalt envy, 
 In thy long agony, m}^ fall, that shakes 
 A kingdom but not me. 
 
 Crom. He is possessed ! — 
 My good Lord President, the day wears on- 
 Possessed of a fierce Devil ! 
 
 Brad. Lead him forth. 
 
•cKNE lii] CHARLES THE FIRST. 47 
 
 King. Why so. Ye are warned. On to my prison, 
 Sirs ! 
 On to my prison ! 
 
 (Soldiers 8fc. cry "On to Execution!'' "Justice and 
 Execution!'' ) 
 
 Crom. Nay, my comrades. 
 Vex not a sinner's parting hour. The wrath 
 Is on him, Harrison ! 
 
 END OF THE THIRD ACT. 
 
48 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act iv 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 An Apartment in Cromwell's House. 
 
 Cromwell alone. 
 
 Crom. So, my lord Broghill ! We are shrewdly rid 
 Of one bold plotter. Now to strike at once, 
 Ere fresh conspiracies — 
 
 Enter Ireton. 
 
 What mak'st thou here, 
 Fair son ? 
 
 Ire. The Lords Commissioners refuse 
 To sign the warrant. He'll escape us yet. 
 
 Crom. Refuse! What all ? 
 
 Ire. No ; Harrison and Bradshaw, 
 And Marten, still hold firm. 
 Crom. Too few ! too few I 
 Aye, he'll escape. They'll treat. What say the traitors ? 
 
 Ire. The most keep stubborn silence. Harrison 
 Is hoarse with railing. 
 
 Crom. Overhot ! But that's 
 A fault may pass for virtue. Overcold's, 
 Your modish sin. Weakness or treachery ! 
 Peters or Judases ! They'll treat. They'll treat. 
 
JCENK I ] CHARLES THE FIRST. 49 
 
 Where lies thvj-ey,iinent? 
 
 Ire. At Westminster. 
 One glance of their bright swords, one stirring note 
 Of their war-trumpet,, and these dastard Judges — 
 I'll seek them instantly. 
 
 Crom. Son, thou mistak'st. 
 Foul shame it were here in a Christian land 
 To govern by brute force — How many hast thou ? 
 
 Ire. a thousand horse. 
 
 Crom. Or turn their very guards 
 Against the Judges — Be they trusty ? 
 
 Ire. Sir, 
 I'll answer for them as myself. 
 
 Crom. Nay, go not. 
 No force, good Son ! No force I 
 
 Enter a Ssrva?it. 
 
 AV hat wouldst thou ? Speak. 
 
 ServaiST. The Colonel Harrison sends me to crave 
 Your Excellency's presence. 
 
 Crom. Aye I I come. 
 Didst meet thy fellow Robert, and the gallant 
 Whom thou saw'st here this morning? 
 
 Serv. Sir, they passed me 
 At speed. 
 
 Crom. I come. No force, good son. Remember 
 This is a Christian land. We must keep pure 
 The Judgment seat. No force. 
 
 (E.vU Ireton.J 
 
 At speed I Ere now 
 
 They have crost the Thames at Kew. We are quit of one 
 Bold Cavalier. — What said the Colonel ? 
 Serv. Prayed 
 
50 CHARLES THK FIKST. [act iv. 
 
 Your instant presence, and between liis teeth 
 
 Muttered " Faint craven souls 1" 
 
 Crom. Fie! Fie! to speak 
 
 Irreverently of such great ones. Faint 
 
 And craven souls ! Follow my son ; thou' It find him 
 
 Heading his valiant horse. Bid him be still 
 
 Till I send to him — 'Still as night. And now 
 
 For ye wise Judges ! 
 
 (Exeunt.) 
 
 Scene II. — The Painted Chamber. Bradshaw, Har- 
 rison, Cook, Downes, Tichburne, Marten, and 
 
 other Judges. 
 
 Har. Be ye all smit with palsy ? Hang your arms 
 Dead at your sides, that 3"e refuse to sign 
 The Warrant ? Be ye turned Idolaters ? 
 R ank worshippers of Baal ? 
 
 Brad. They refuse not. 
 
 Mar. They parley, Sir, they dally, they delay. 
 
 Cook. The wiser if they did . 'Twere vantage ground, 
 The keen axe swinging o'er his head, to treat 
 With yon great prisoner. 
 
 Har. Treat ! Was yonder trial 
 A mummery, a stage-plaj^ a farce ? Oh blind 
 And stubborn generation ! 
 
 Dow. The w^hole people 
 Are struck with awe and pity. Each man's cheek 
 Is pale ; each woman's eye is wet ; each child 
 Lifts up its little hands as to implore '^■^ 
 
 Mercy for the poor King. 
 
 Har. Captivity 
 And bondage will o'ertake them ! They fall off 
 Like the revolted Tribes. Egyptian bondage ! 
 
scKNKi.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 51 
 
 Enfei- Cromwell. 
 
 Crom. Wherefore so loud good Coloae! ? Sirs, 1 shame 
 To have held ye waiting here. A sudden cause, 
 I pray ye believe it urgent, hindered me. 
 Where is the warrant ? Have ye left a space 
 For my poor name ? 
 
 Mar. Thou wilt find room enow. 
 There ! 
 
 Crom. What unsigned ? — Harrison I — He came hither 
 To crave your signatures. 
 
 Har. I did my message I 
 But these Philistines — 
 
 Crom. Do ye shame to set 
 Your names to your own deeds ? Did ye not pass 
 This solemn sentence in the face of day, 
 Before the arraigned King, the shouting people, 
 The majesty of Heaven ? 
 
 TiCH. Thou dost mistake us. 
 
 Crom. I crave your pardon, Sirs. I deemed ye were 
 The judges, the King's judges, the elect 
 Of England, chosen by her godly Commons 
 As wisest, boldest, best. I did mistake ye. 
 
 Dow. listen, ere thou accuse us. 
 
 Mar. Listen I sign! 
 And we will listen though your pleaded reason 
 Outlast Hugh Peters' sermon. 
 
 Dow. Hear me first. 
 
 Crom. Well! 
 
 Dow. We have here Commissioners from Scothmd 
 Praying our mercy on the King. 
 
 Crom. They gave him 
 Into our hands. 
 
 Har. And they are answered Sir. 
 
 H 2 
 
^•2 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act iv. 
 
 Thou know'st that Cromwell sing]\^ put them down, 
 As they had been young babes. 
 
 Dow. The Pensionary — 
 
 Crom. Pshaw ! 
 
 Dow. Hath sent pressmg missives ; Embassies 
 From every court, are on the seas ; and Charles 
 Proffirs great terms. 
 
 Crom. Have we not all ? 
 
 Cook. But he 
 Will give a fair security, a large 
 And general amnesty. So are we freed 
 From fear of after-reckoning. 
 
 Crom. Master Cook 
 No wonder that a law\'or pleads to-day 
 Against his cause of yesterday — 'if feed 
 To the height. But thou art not of us; thy part 
 Is o'er 
 
 Mar. He will give large securities ! 
 For what ? 
 
 Dow. The general safety and our own. 
 
 Mar. Safet}^ say liberty I Securities. 
 Marry large promises ! An ye will trust 
 Ye may be Earls and Marquesses, and portion 
 This pretty islet England as a manor 
 Amongst ye. Shame ye not to think a bribe 
 Might win your souls from freedom ? 
 
 Har. From the Lord I ' 
 Would ye desert His people ? sell for gain 
 His cause ? 
 
 Crom. Hush I Hush! none thinketh to forsake 
 The cause ! 
 
 Ticn. Let Bradshaw sign. What need more names 
 '^J'han the Lord President's? 
 
 Brad. 1 am readv, Sirs, 
 
SCENE I.] CHARLES THP] FIRST. 53 
 
 An ye will follow me. The Instrument 
 
 Were else illegal. When ye are prepared, 
 
 Speak. 
 
 CiiOM. My good masters, ye remember me 
 
 Of a passage of my boyhood. 
 
 (thru aside to Bradshaw and Harrison^ 
 
 Deem me not 
 A light unmeaning trifier, recollect 
 How Nathan spake to David, (theti aloud) Being a 
 
 child 
 Nutting with other imps in the old copse 
 At Hinchinbroke, \yq saw across a wide 
 But shallow stream one overhanging hazel. 
 Whose lissome stalks were weighed by the rich fruitage 
 Almost into the v^-ater. As we stood 
 Eyeing the tempting boughs, a shining nut 
 Fell from its socket, dimpling wide around 
 The dark clear mirror. At that sight one bold 
 And hardy urchin, with myself, no less 
 In those young days a daring wight, at once 
 Plunged in the sparkling rivulet. It rose 
 Above our ancles, to our knees, half up 
 Our thighs, and my scared comrade in the midst 
 Of the stream turned roaring back, and gained the bank 
 Nutless and wet, amidst the scotling shouts 
 Of the small people. 
 
 Brad. And thou? 
 
 Crom. AVhy I bore 
 My course right on, and gained the spoil. Sirs, we 
 Have plunged knee deep in the w^aters ; are midway 
 The stream : Will ye turn now and leave the fruit 
 Ungathered, recreants ? or hold boldly on 
 And win the holy prize of freedom ? Give me 
 
54 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act iv 
 
 The warrant, {signn.) Sol methinks an it were not 
 
 Over ambitious, and that's a sin; 
 
 My homely name should stand alone to this 
 
 Most righteous scroll. Follow who list. I've left 
 
 A space for the Lord President. 
 
 Brad. I'll fill it 
 With an unworthy name, (signs.) 
 
 Crom. Now swell the roll 
 My masters I Whither goost thou Marten ? None 
 Shall stir till he hath signed. Thou a ripe scholar, 
 Not write thy name I I can write mine i' the dark, 
 And oft with my sword-point have traced in air 
 The viewless characters in the long hour 
 Before the joy of battle. Shut thine eyes, 
 And write thy name ! Anywhere ! See 
 
 (Marking Marten's chork with a pen.) 
 
 Nay IMarten, 
 
 Stand still 1 — See I See ! how fair and clerkly ! Yet 
 
 This parchment is the smoother. 
 
 Mar. Hold thee sure 
 I'll pay thee, (jreneral. 
 
 TiCH. Why he hath marke I thee 
 Like a new ruddled sheep. 
 
 Mar. I'll pay thee. 
 
 Crom. Sign. 
 
 Marten. Willingly ; joyfully, (signs.) 
 
 Crom. Why so. Where goes 
 Our zealous alderman ? 1 deemed to see 
 His name the first. 
 
 Brad. He fears the City's safety, 
 Full, as he says, of the King's friends. 
 
 Crom. He fears I 
 Thev be bold men who fearlessly do own 
 
SCENE ).] CHARLES THE FIRST. J^5 
 
 Their fears. I dare not. Fear 1 Sir, didst thou come 
 By water hither ? 
 
 TiCH. No. 
 
 Crom. And didst thou meet 
 No soldiers on thy way ? 
 
 TicH. Many. The streets 
 Are swarming with thorn. 
 
 Crom. Were they silent ? 
 
 TicH. No, 
 They called aloud for execution. 
 
 Crom. Say, 
 For justice and for execution. Marry, 
 My Ironsides know not the new state trick 
 To separate the words. Well ! are not they 
 A nearer fear ? Sign boldl}-. 
 
 (Cromwell, Marten r/wZ Down es, advance to the front) 
 
 Mar. They flock fast. 
 
 Crom. 'Tis time, for plots are weaving round about us, 
 Like spider's nets in Autumn. But this morning 
 I swept one web away. Lord Broghill — 
 
 Mar. What! 
 Hath he been here ? 
 
 Dow. Is he discovered ? 
 
 Crom. Sir, 
 I have a slow-hound's scent to track a traitor. 
 He's found and he's despatched. 
 
 Dow\ How ? 
 
 Mar. Where ? 
 
 Crom. To Ireland, 
 With a commission 'gainst the rebels. 'Tis 
 An honest soldier who deserves to fight 
 For the good cause. He but mistook his side ; 
 The Queen beguiled him, and the knightly sound 
 
56 CHARLES THE FUIST. [act it. 
 
 Of loyalty. But 'tis an honest soldier. 
 He will prove faithful. 
 
 Mar. How didst win him ? 
 
 Crom. How? 
 A word of praise, a thought of fear. How do men 
 Win traitors ? Hark ye Downes I Lord Broghill left 
 A list of the King's friends amongst us here ; — 
 Grave seeming Roundheads, bold and zealous soldiers, 
 High oflficers — T marvel not ye look 
 Distrustfully — one of renown, a Colonel, 
 A Judge too ! Downes, hast thou signed yonder Warrant ? 
 
 Mar. What was the plan? 
 
 Crom. Go sign I say. — The plan I 
 A sudden rescue, to o'erpower the guard. — ■ 
 Ha 1 Ingoldsby 
 
 {S'"izitig one i)f thr Judgra and Icddiug him to the table. 
 
 Nay, man, if thou be questioned, 
 
 Some dozen years hence, say that I forced thee, swear 
 
 Thy wicked kinsman held thy hand. — Aye, now 
 
 The blank is nobly filled, and bravely ! now 
 
 I know ye once again, the pious Judges 
 
 The elect and godly of the land ! 
 
 {A trumpet heard ivithcnit) 
 
 Ha ! — Marten, 
 
 Haste to my son ; bid him disband his force ; 
 
 The peril is gone by. 
 
 {Exit Marten.) 
 
 Har. What peril ? 
 
 Crom. Ye 
 That are assembled here, should lift your voice 
 In earnest thanks for quick deliverance 
 
ICENE III.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 6/ 
 
 From .sudden danger. Ye knew nought of this 
 Great jeopardy, nor need ye know. Give thanks, 
 And question not. Ye are .safe. 
 
 Brad, Art sure of that ? 
 
 Crom. Did ye not hear me even now take order 
 The guard should be dispersed? Question no more. 
 Ye are so safe, that tliis slight parchment, Sirs, 
 May be your shield. 
 
 Brad. The deed is incomplete. 
 It hath no date, ■ 
 
 Crom. Ah 1 well reminded I write 
 The Thirtieth. 
 
 Dow. Tomorrow? that were sudden, 
 
 Crom. Why so we must be. There bo plots astir, 
 And speed is our best safety. — Thou hast signed ?. 
 Thy name is here amongst us ? — T must haste 
 To overtake the hour. 'Tis still unsealed. 
 Add thou my signet, Bradshaw. 
 
 (E.vit Cromwell.) 
 
 Ticii. What intends 
 The General ? 
 
 Brad. Question not of that. A taper ! 
 Your seals, ntiy Lords Commissioners I Your seals I 
 
 (The Scene closes, J 
 
 Scene III. — The King's Ajjartmcnts. 
 
 Enter the King lending in the Priisce.s.s Elizabeth mid 
 the Duke of Gloucester. 
 
 King, Here we may weep at leisure. Yon tierce 
 ruffian 
 Will scarce pursue us here. Elizabeth. 
 
 I 
 
.■)8 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act iv. 
 
 1 thought 1 had done with anger, but the soldier 
 Who gazed on thee awhile, with looks that seemed 
 To wither thy young beaut)', and with words — 
 My child ! my child! And I had not the power 
 To shield mine own sweet child I 
 
 Eliz. I saw him not ; 
 I heard him not : I could see none but thee ; 
 Could hear no voice but thine. 
 
 King. When I am gone 
 Who shall protect thee ? 
 
 Glou. I shall soon be tall ; 
 7\nd then — 
 
 King. Poor boy ! Elizabeth, be thou 
 A mother to him. Rear him up in peace 
 And humbleness. Show him how sweet Content 
 Can smile on dungeon floors ; how the mewed lark 
 Sings in his narrow cage. Plant patience, dear ones. 
 Deep in your hearts. 
 
 Enter Herbert. 
 
 Herbert, where stays the Queen ? 
 
 Still on that hopeless quest of hope, though friends 
 
 Drop from her fast as leaves in Autumn ? 
 
 Herb. Sire, 
 Her Grace is absent still. But General Cromwell 
 Craves audience of your Majesty. 
 
 King. Admit him. 
 Wipe oif those tears, Elizabeth. Resume 
 Thy gentle courage. Thou art a Princess. 
 
 Enter Cromwell. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 Thou seest me with my children. Doth thine errand 
 
 Demand their absence ? 
 
SCENE III. ] CHARLES THE FIRST. 59 
 
 Crom. No. I sent them to thee 
 In Christiaa charit\\ Thou hast not fallen 
 Amongst the Heathen. 
 
 King. Howsoever sent, 
 It was a royal boon. My heart hath ached 
 With the vain agony of longing love 
 To look upon those blooming cheeks, to kiss 
 Those red and innocent lips, to hear the sound 
 Of those dear voices. 
 
 Crom. Sir, 'twas meet they came 
 That thou might' st see them once again, might' st say — 
 
 King. Farewell ! — I can endure the word — ^a last 
 Farewell ! I have dwelt so long upon the thought, 
 The sound seems nothing. Ye have signed the sentence ? 
 Fear not to speak Sir. 
 
 Crom. 'Tis a a grievous duty — 
 
 King. Ye /i«t)e signed. And the day? 
 
 Crom. Tomorrow. 
 
 King. What I 
 So soon ? And yet I thank ye. Speed is mercy. 
 Ye must away, poor children. 
 
 Crom. Nay, the children 
 May bide with thee till nightfall. 
 
 King. Take them, Herbert! 
 Take them. 
 
 Children. Oh! no, no, no! 
 
 King. Dear ones, 1 go 
 On a great journey. Bless ye once again, 
 My children ! We must part. Farewell. 
 
 Eliz. Oh father. 
 Let me go with thee ! 
 
 King. Know'st thou whither ? 
 
 Eliz, Yes ; 
 To Heaven. Oh take me with thee ! I must die ; 
 
 I 2 
 
t'l) CHARLES TiiK FIHS'J'. [aci iv 
 
 SVlieii llie tree ial.'.s, the young buds wither. Take me 
 Along with thee to Heaven ! Let us lie 
 Bolli in one grave ! 
 
 King. Now bless ye ! This is death ; 
 This is the bitterness of love. 
 
 Crom. Fair child 
 Be comforted. 
 
 King. Did'st thou not pat her head? 
 Crom. She minded mc, all in her innocent tears. 
 Of one in mine own dwelHng. 
 
 King. Thou hast daughters ; 
 Be kind to her. 
 Crom. I will. 
 
 iviNG. And the poor boy— ^ 
 He comes not near the throne. Make not of him 
 A puppet King. 
 
 Crom-. I think not of it. 
 King. Take them, 
 Good Herbert I iYnd my wife — 
 
 Crom-. She shall be safe ; 
 Shall home to France xmharmed. 
 
 King. Now fare ye well ! — 
 Cromwell come back ! — No, bring them not again-^ 
 No more of parting — bless them I bless them I See 
 The girl, the poor poor girl, hath wept away 
 Her tears, and pants and shivers like a fawn 
 Dying. Oh ! for some gentle face to look on 
 "When she revives, or she will surely die. 
 Crom^ She shall be cared for. 
 
 {Exeunt Herbert and the Children.^ 
 
 King. Are they gone? quite gone? 
 \ might have kissed them once again, have charged them 
 ^o love each oth(;r. — No, 'tis best. 
 
 ^'u'o.A?-. '^MiMu bad'st me 
 
scfiNK m.J CHARLES THE FIRST. 61 
 
 Remain. What is thy will ? 
 
 King. Be kind to thetn I 
 Be very kind to them ! 
 
 Crom. Have I not promised ? 
 Was that what thou would'st say ? 
 
 King. No. But the love, 
 The o'ermastering love — that w^as the death-pang. Crom- 
 well, 
 Thou wait be kind to them ? 
 
 Crom. Would'st have me swear? 
 
 King. Nay, swear not lest, I doubt. 1 will believe thee^ 
 And for the human pity thou hast shown, 
 The touch of natural ruth, I pray thee take 
 My thanks. 
 
 Crom. I would have saved thee. Bj' this hand, 
 This sinful hand, I would have saved thee, King, 
 Had'st thou flung by yon bauble. 
 
 King. There is One 
 Who reads all hearts, one who pursues all crimes, 
 From silver-tongued and bland hypocrisy 
 To treasonous murder. The unspoken thought, 
 And the loud lie, and the accursing act, 
 Mount to His throne together. Tempt Him not. 
 I know thee for the worker of this deed. 
 And knowing pardon thee: — but tempt not Him I 
 
 Crom. Thy blood be on thy head ! I would have saved 
 thee— 
 Even novr the thought stirred iji me. Pardon, Lord, 
 That gazing on the father's agonies, 
 ISIy heart of flesh waxed faint, and I forgot 
 Thy glorv cind Thy cavise, the sulferiug saints, 
 The tyrant's tyrany, and Thy great word. 
 Freedom ! Thy blood 1'p nn Ihy head. 
 
 IvfNG. So b^ it. 
 
 KN!) Of Til!'- KOIKTH ACT: 
 
f.2 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 SCENE L 
 The King's Bedchamber. 
 
 (On account of the length of the Tragedy, this Scene is 
 omitted in representation.) 
 
 The King, starting from his Couch ; Herbert asleep. 
 
 King. Herbert! Is' t time to rise ? He sleeps. What 
 sounds 
 Were those that roused me? Hark again I The clang 
 Of hammers ! Yet the watch-light burns ; the day- 
 Is still unborn. This is a work of night, 
 Of deep funereal darkness. Each loud stroke 
 Rings like a knell, distinct, discordant, shrill, 
 Gathering, redoubling, echoing round my head, 
 Smiting me only with its sound amid 
 The slumbering city, tolling in mine ear — ^ 
 A passing bell ! It is the scaffold. Heaven 
 Grant me to tread it with as calm a heart 
 As I bear now. His sleep is troubled. Herbert ! 
 'Twere best to wake him. Herbert ! rouse thee, man ! 
 
 Herb. Did your Grace call ? 
 
 King. Aye ; we should be today 
 Early astir. I've a great business toward, 
 
scKNE I.] CHARLES THE FIRST. r,3 
 
 To exchange the kingly wreath, my crown of" thorns. 
 
 For an eternal diadem ; to die — 
 
 And I would go trim as a bridegroom. Give me 
 
 Yon ermined cloak. If the crisp nipping frost 
 
 Should cause me shiver, there be tongues would call 
 
 The wintery chillness Fear. Herbert, my sleep 
 
 Hath been as soft and balmy, as young babes 
 
 Inherit from their blessed innocence. 
 
 Or hardy peasants win with honest toil. 
 
 When I awoke thy slumbers were perturbed. 
 
 Unquiet. 
 
 Herb. Vexed, my liege, with dreams. 
 
 King. Of what? 
 
 Herb. So please you. Sire, demand not. 
 
 King. Dost thou think 
 
 A dream can vex me now ? Speak. 
 
 Herb. Thrice I slept, 
 And thrice I woke, and thrice the self-same vision 
 Haunted my fancy. Seemed this very room. 
 This dim and waning taper, this dark couch. 
 Beneath whose crimson canopy reclined 
 A form august and stately. The pale ray 
 Of the watch-light dwelt upon his face, and showed 
 His paler lineaments, where majesty 
 And manly beauty, and deep trenching thought. 
 And Care the wrinkler, all were blended now 
 Into one calm and holy pensiveness. 
 Softened by slumber. I stood gazing on him 
 With weeping love, as one awake ; when sudden 
 A thick and palpable darkness fell around, 
 A blindness, and dull groans and piercing shrieks 
 A moment echoed ; then they ceased, and light 
 Burst forth and musick — light such as the flood 
 Of day-spring at the dawning, rosy, sparkling, 
 
64 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act v. 
 
 An insupportable brightness — and i'th' midst, 
 Over the couch, a milk-white dove, vi'hich soared 
 Right upward, cleaving with its train of light 
 The Heavens like a star. The couch remained 
 Vacant 
 
 King. Oh that the spirit so may pass I 
 So rise ! Thrice did'st thou say? 
 
 Her. Three times the vision 
 Passed o'er my fancy. 
 
 King. A thrice-blessed omen ! , 
 
 Herbert, my soul is full of serious joy, 
 Content and peaceful as the Autumn sun, 
 When, smiling for awhile on the ripe sheaves 
 And kissing the brown woods, he bids the world 
 A calm goodnight. Bear witness that I die 
 In charity with all men ; and take thou, 
 My kind and faithful servant, follower 
 Of my evil fortunes, true and tender, take 
 All that thy master hath to give — his thanks. 
 His poor but honest thanks. Another King 
 Shall better pay thee. Weep not. Seek the Bishop ; 
 And if thou meet with that fair constancy, 
 Mv mournful Henrietta, strive to turn 
 Her steps away till — I'm a coward 3'et, 
 And fear her, lest she come to plunge my thought? 
 In the deep fountain of her sad fond tears, 
 To win me — Ha I can that impatient foot, 
 That hurrying hand, which shakes the door — ■ 
 
 Enter the Queen. 
 
 Queen. My Charles I 
 King. Haste to the Bishop, 
 
 (Exit Herbert.^ 
 
scKNE i.| CHARLES THE FIRST. 55 
 
 Queen. Charles ! 
 
 King. Already here ! 
 Thou did'st fall trembling hi my arms, last night, 
 Dizzy and fahit and spent, as the tired martlet, 
 Midway her voyage, drops panting on the deck. 
 And slumbers through the tempest. I kissed off 
 The tears that Ir.mg on those fair eyelids, blessing 
 Thy speechless weariness, thy weeping love 
 That sobbed itself to rest. Never did mother 
 Watching her fevered infant pray for sleep 
 So calm, so dsep, so long, as I besought 
 Of Heaven for thee when half unconscious, yet 
 Moaning and plaining like a dove, they bore thee 
 With gentle force away. And thou art here 
 Already! wakened into sense and life 
 And the day's agony. 
 
 Queen. Here! T have been 
 To Harrison, to Marten, to Tjord Fairfax, 
 To Downes, to Ireton, — even at Bradshaw's feet 
 I've knelt to day. Sleep no\V? shall 1 e'er sleep 
 Again ! 
 
 King. At Bradshaw's feet ! Oh perfect love 
 How can I chide thee ? Yet I would thou had'st spared 
 Thyself and me that scorn. 
 
 Queen. Do Hunters scorn 
 The shrill cries of the Uoness, whose cubs 
 They've snared, although the Forest-Queen approach 
 Crouching ? Do seamen scorn the forked lightning 
 Albeit the storm-cloud weep ? They strove to soothe ; 
 They spake of pity ; one of hope. 
 
 King. Alas I 
 All thy life long the torturer hope hath been 
 Thy master ! — Yet if she can steal an hour 
 From grief — whom dost thou trust ? 
 
fi6 CHARLKS THE FIRST. [ac 
 
 Queen. Thyself and Ileavon 
 And a relenting woman. Wrap thyself 
 Close in my cloak — Here ! here ! — to Lady Fairfax ! 
 She's faithful ; she'll conceal thee. Take the cloak ; 
 Waste not a point of time, not whilst the sand 
 Runs in the glass. Dost fear its shortness ? See 
 How long it is I 
 On with the cloak. Begone ! 
 
 King. And thou? 
 
 Queen. My post is here. 
 
 King. To perish 
 
 Queen. No, 
 To live to a blest old age with thee in freedom. 
 Away my Charles, mj'- Kingl I shall be safe — 
 And if I were not could I live if thou — 
 Charles, thou wilt madden me. 'Tis the first boon 
 I ever craved ; and now, by our young loves, 
 By our commingled griefs, a mighty spell. 
 Our smiling children and this bleeding land, 
 Go ! I conjure thee, go ! 
 
 King. I cannot. 
 
 Queen. King 
 Begone ! or 1 will speak such truth — and truth 
 Is a foul treason in this land — will rain 
 Such curses on them, as shall force them send me 
 To the scaffold at thy side. Fly ! 
 
 King. Dost thou see 
 Fierce soldiers crowded round, as if to watch 
 A garrisoned fort, rather than one unarmed 
 Defenceless man, and think' st thou I could win 
 A step unchallenged ? Nor though to escape 
 Were easy as to breathe, the vigilant guard 
 Smitten with sudden blindness, the unnumbered 
 And stirring swarms of this vast city locked 
 
SCENE ..] CHARLES THE FIRST. fi7 
 
 In charmed sleep, and darkness over all 
 Blacker than starless night, spectral and dim 
 As an eclipse at noontide, though the gates 
 Opened before me, and my feet were swift 
 As the Antelope's, not then if it but perilled 
 A single hair of friend or foe would I 
 Pass o'er the threshold. In my cause too much 
 Of blood hath fallen. Let mine seal all. I go 
 To death as to a bridal ; thou thyself 
 In thy young beaut}- wast not welcomer 
 Than he. Farewell, beloved wife I My chosen 1 
 My dear-one ! We have loved as peasants love, 
 Been fond and true as they. Now fare thee well ! 
 I thank thee, and 1 bless thee. Pray for me, 
 My Henrietta. 
 
 Queen. Charles, thou shalt be saved. 
 Talk not of parting. I'll to Fairfax ; he 
 Gave hope, and hope is life. 
 
 King. Farewell ! 
 
 Queen. That word — 
 I prythee speak it not — ^withers me, lives 
 Like a serpent's hiss within mine ear, shouts through 
 My veins like poison, twines and coils about me 
 Clinging and killing. 'Tis a sound accurst, 
 A word of death and doom. Why shouldst thou speak it ? 
 Thou shalt be saved ; Fairfax shall save thee. Charles, 
 Give me a ringlet of thy hair — No, no, — 
 Not now ! not now ! Thou shalt not die. 
 
 King. Sweet wife. 
 Say to my children that my last fond thought — 
 
 Queen. Last! Thou shalt Hve to tell them of thy 
 thoughts 
 Longer than they or I to hear thee. Harken 
 Promise thou wilt await me here ! Let none — 
 
r.^s CJIARLKS THK FIRS'J'. [^ct v. 
 
 Thy} will not dare, they shall not. 1 but waste 
 The hour. I'o Fairfax, the good Fairfax I Charles 
 Thou shalt not die 
 
 {Exit Queen.) 
 
 King. Oh truest fondest woman I 
 My matchless wife ! The pang is mastered now, 
 I am Death's conqueror. My Faithfullest ! 
 My Fairest ! M}- most dear ! I ne'er shall see 
 Those radiant looks again, or hear the sound 
 Of thy blithe voice, which was a hope, or feel 
 The thrilling pressure of thy hand, almost 
 A language, so the ardent spirit burned 
 And vibrated within thee! I'll to prayer, 
 And chase awa}' that image I I'll to prayer. 
 And pray lor thee, sweet wife I I'll to my prayers. 
 
 (Exit.) 
 
 (In representation the Fifth Act begins here.) 
 
 Scene II. — The Banquetting-House at Whitehall^ glass 
 folding-doors opening to the Scajfold, ichich is covered 
 trith black. The block, axe, ^c. visible ; Officers and 
 other perso7is are busy in the back-ground, and Crom- 
 well is also there giving directions. 
 
 Ireton, Harrison, and Hacker meeting, Cromwell 
 
 behind. 
 
 Har. Cromwell !-^Good-morrow Ireton ! Whither goes 
 The General ? 
 
 Ire. To see that all be ready 
 For this gi-eat deed. 
 
 Hack. Ho hath the eager step, 
 
scENK ii.J CHARLES THE FIRST. 69 
 
 The dark light in his eye, the upward look, 
 
 The flush upon his cheek, that I've marked in him 
 
 When marching to the battle. 
 
 Har. Doth he not lead 
 To day in a great combat, a most holy 
 And glorious victory ? 
 
 Crom. (at the back of the Stage) Hast thou ta'en 
 order 
 That soon as the head's otf the Abbey bell 
 Begin to toll? 
 
 Officer. I have. 
 
 Crom. Look that the axe 
 Be keen, and the hand steady. Let us have 
 No butchery. 
 
 (advancing to the front of the Stage.) 
 
 If he die not, we must perish — 
 That were as nothing ! but with us will die 
 The liberty for which the blood of saints 
 And martyrs hath been spilt, freedom of act, 
 Of speech, of will, of faith ! Better one grey 
 Discrowned head should fall, albeit a thought 
 Before the time, than God's own people groan 
 In slavery for ever. 
 
 Har. Whoso doubteth 
 But he shall die ? 
 
 Crom. 'Tis rumoured, Sirs, amongst 
 The soldiery, that one of a high place, 
 Fairfax— But I believe it not. Hast thou " 
 The Warrant Hacker ? 
 
 Hack. No, 
 
 Ire. Since when doth Fairfax 
 Dare to impugn the sentence of a free 
 And publick court, of England — 
 
70 CHARLES THE FIRST. 
 
 Har. Of the Great 
 All-Righteous Judge who hath delivered him 
 Manifestly to us ? 
 
 Hack. Will he dare oppose 
 Army and people ? He alone ! 
 
 Crom. Be sure 
 The good Lord-General, howsoe'er some scruple 
 May trouble him, will play a godly part 
 In this sad drama. — Aye, I have the Warrant ! 
 It is addressed to thee. Thou must receive 
 The prisoner, and conduct him hither. 
 
 Hack. Hath 
 The hour been yet resolved ? i 
 
 Crom. Not that I hear. 
 
 Enter Fairfax. 
 
 Ha ! our great General ! Well met my Lord I 
 We that are laden with this heavy burthen 
 Lacked your sustaining aid ! 
 
 Fair. Cromwell, I too 
 Am heavy-laden. 
 
 Crom. You look ill at ease ; 
 'Tis this chill air, the nourisher of rheums. 
 The very frog of frost, that turns men's blood 
 To water. 
 
 Fair. No, the grief is here. Regret, 
 Almost remorse, and doubt and fear of wrong 
 Press heavily upon me. Is this death 
 Lawful ? 
 
 Ire. His country's sentence, good my Lord, 
 May be thy warrant. 
 
 Fair. An anointed King I 
 
 Har. a bloody tyrant. 
 
scENKii.l CHARLES THE FIRST. 7 
 
 Fair. Yet a man, whose doom 
 Lies on our conscience. We might save the King 
 Even now at the eleventh hour ; we two 
 Hold the nice scales of life and death, and shall not 
 Fair mercy sway the balance ? Dost thou hear me ? 
 Wilt thou not answer ? Canst thou doubt our power ? 
 
 Crom. No. Man hath always power for ill. I know 
 We might desert our friends, betray our country, 
 Abandon our great cause, and sell our souls 
 To Hell. We might do this, and more ; might shroi. 
 These devilish sins in holy names, and call them 
 Loyalty, Honour, Faith, Repentance — 'cheats 
 Which the great Tempter loves ! 
 
 Fair. Yet harken, Cromwell ! 
 Bethink thee of thy fam e 
 
 Crom. Talk'st thou of fame 
 To me ? I am too mean a man, too lowly, 
 Too poor in state and name to need abjure 
 That princely sin, and for my humbleness 
 I duly render thanks. Were I as thou — 
 Beware the lust of fame. Lord General, 
 Of perishable fame, vain breath of man, 
 Slight bubble, frailer than the ocean foam 
 Which from her prow the good ship in her course 
 Scattereth and passeth on regardlessly. 
 Lord General beware ! 
 
 Fair. I am Lord General ; 
 And I alone by mine own voice have power 
 To stay this deed. 
 
 Crom. Alone ? 
 
 Fair. I'll answer it 
 Before the Council. 
 
 Crom. Ha ! alone ! — come nearer. 
 
 Fair. What would' st thou of me ? 
 
72 CHARLES THE FIRST. [a. 
 
 Crom. Yonder men are firm 
 And honest in the cause, and brave as steel; 
 Yet are they zealots, blind and furious zealots ! 
 I would not they should hear us — ^bloody zealots ! 
 
 Fair. Speak, Sir ; we waste the hour. 
 
 Crom. I would confess 
 Relentings like thine own. — They hear us not ? 
 
 Fair. I joy to hear thee. 
 
 Crom. Thou art one elect, 
 A leader in the land, a chosen vessel 
 And yet of such a mild and gracious mood, 
 That T, stern as I seem, may doff to thee 
 This smooth and governed mask of polity. 
 And shew the struggling heart perplexed and grieved 
 In all its nakedness. Yes, 1 have known 
 The kindly natural love of man to man 
 His fellow! — the rough soldier's shuddering hate 
 Of violent death, save in the battle; lastly 
 A passionate yearning for that sweetest power 
 Born of fair Mercy. 
 
 Fair. Yet but now thou chidd'st me 
 And with a lofty scorn for such a weakness. 
 The change is sudden, 
 
 Crom. Good my Lord, I strove 
 And wrestled with each pitying thought as born 
 Of earthly pride and mortal sin. Full oft 
 We, that are watchers of our wretched selves. 
 Aiming at higher virtues, trample down 
 Fair shoots of charity and gentle love 
 Yet still my breast was troubled. And since thou 
 Art moved by such relentings — 
 
 Fair. And a promise 
 Made to my wife 
 
 Crom. A wise and pious lady ! 
 
scEXK 11.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 73 
 
 Fair. Thou wilt then save the Khig? 
 
 Crom. Sir, we must have 
 Some higher warrantry than our wild will, 
 Our treacherous human will, afore we change 
 The fiat of a nation. Thou art a man 
 Elect and godly^-Harrison ! — go seek 
 The presence of the Lord. Perhaps to thee 
 A guiding answer, a divine impulsion. 
 May be vouchsafed. Cto with him Harrison ! 
 Seek ye the Lord together. 
 
 Fair. 'Tis a wise 
 And pious counsel. 
 
 Crom. Step apart awhile ; 
 We will await ye here. 
 
 (Exeunt Fairfax cmd Harrison. J 
 
 Cromw^ell gives the Warrant to Hacker. 
 
 Now ! now ! be quick ! 
 
 (Exit Hacker. J 
 Is the scaffold all prepared ? The headsman waiting 
 With shrouded visage and bare arm ? The axe 
 Whetted? Be ready on the instant. Where 
 Be guards to line the room, mute wondering faces, 
 A living tapestry, and men of place 
 To witness this great deed ? A King should fall 
 Decked with the pageantries of Death, the clouds 
 That roll around the setting sun. 
 
 Ire. If Fairfax 
 Return before he come — 
 
 Crom. Dost thou mistrust 
 Harrison's gift in prayer ? The General's safe. 
 Besides I sent erewhile the Halberdiers 
 To guard Charles Stuart hither. Hacker 'II meet 
 His prisoner. 
 
74 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act v. 
 
 Ire. But should Fairfax — 
 
 Crom. Wherefore waste 
 A word on such a waverer ! 
 
 Ire. What hath swayed him ? 
 
 Crom. His wife ! his wife ! The Queen hath seen again 
 That haughty dame, and her fond tears — 
 
 Ire. I marvel 
 That thou endur'st that popish witch of France 
 So near. 
 
 Crom. I watch her. He must die ! 'Tis borne 
 Upon my soul as what shall be. The race, 
 The name shall perish. 
 
 Ire. Aye, the very name 
 Of King. 
 
 Crom. Of Stuart. 
 
 Ire. And of King. 
 
 Crom. So be it. 
 Will Bradshaw never come ? 
 
 Enter Bradshaw, Cook, Marten, and others. 
 
 Ah welcome ! welcome ! 
 Ye are late. 
 
 Brad. Yon living mass is hard to pierce 
 By men of civil calling. The armed soldiers 
 Can scantly force a passage for their prisoner. 
 
 Crom. He comes? 
 
 Brad. He's at the gate. 
 
 Ire. What say the people? 
 
 Brad. The most are pale and silent, as a Fear 
 Hung its dull shadow over them ; whilst some 
 Struck with a sudden pity weep and wonder 
 What ails them ; and a few bold tongues are loud 
 In execration. 
 
SCENE II.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 75 
 
 Ire. And the soldiers? 
 
 Mar. They 
 Are true to the good cause. 
 
 Crom. The righteous cause ! 
 My friends and comrades ye are come to witness 
 The mighty consummation. See, the sun 
 Breaks forth ! The Heavens look down upon our work 
 Smiling ! The Lord hath risen ! 
 
 Ire. The King! 
 
 Ent€7- the Kikg, Hacker, Herbert, a Bishop, 
 Guards, Sfc. 
 
 King. Why pause ye? 
 Come on. 
 
 Herbert gives the King a letter. 
 
 Herb. Sire, from thy Son. 
 
 King. My boy ! My boy ! 
 No ; no ; this letter is of life, and I 
 And life have shaken hands. My kingly boy I 
 And the fair girl ! I thought to have done with this. 
 But it so clings ! Take back the letter, Herbert. 
 Take it, I say. Forgive me, faithful Herbert, 
 That last impatient word. Forgive me. Now, Sirs, 
 What see ye on that platform ? I am as one 
 Bent on a far and perilous voyage, who seeks 
 To hear what rocks beset his path. A¥hat see ye ? 
 
 Brad. Only the black-masked headsman. 
 
 King. Aye, he wears 
 His mask upon his face, an honest mask. 
 What see ye more ? 
 
 Brad. Nought save the living sea 
 Of human faces_, blent into one mass 
 
 l2 
 
76 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act v 
 
 Of sentient various life : woman and man, 
 Childhood and infancy, and youth and age. 
 Commingled with its multitudinous eyes 
 Upturned in expectation. Aweful gaze 1 
 Who may abide thy power ? 
 
 King. I shall look upward. %^ 
 
 "Why pause we here ? 
 
 Crom. Aye, why? 
 
 Brad. May it please thee, Sir, 
 To rest awhile ? Bring wine. 
 
 King. I need it not. 
 Yes I fill the cup ! fill high the sparkling cup ! 
 This is a holiday to loyal breasts, 
 The King's accession day. Fill high ! fill high ! 
 The block, the scaffold, the swift sudden axe, 
 Have yet a privilege beyond the slow 
 And painful dying bed, and I may quaff 
 In my full pride of strength a health to him, 
 Whom, pass one short half-hour, the funeral knell 
 Proclaims my successor. Health to my son ! 
 Health to the King of England! Start ye, Sirs, 
 To hear the word ? Health to King Charles, and peace. 
 To this fair realm ! And when that blessed time 
 Of rightful rule shall come, say that I left 
 For the bold traitors that condemned, the cowards 
 Who not opposing murdered me (I have won 
 So near the Throne of Truth that true words spring 
 Unbidden from my lips,) say that I left 
 A pardon, liberal as the air, to all, 
 A free and royal pardon ! — Prythee speed me 
 On my rough journey. 
 
 CroiM. Wherefore crowd ye there ? 
 ">Take way. 
 
 Ki^<i. I thank thee, Sir. jNIv good Lord Bishop. 
 
iCENE ii] CHARLES THE FIRST. 77 
 
 Beware the step. — ■ 
 
 (Exeunt King, Herbert, Bishop, and Guanls.) 
 
 (A pause.) 
 
 Crom. Doth he addre.ss the people 
 
 Mar. Not so. He kneels. 
 
 Crom. 'Twere fittest. Close the door. 
 This wintery air is chill, and the Lord President 
 Is of a feeble body. 
 
 (Scream without.) 
 
 Brad. Hush I 
 Crom. 'Tis one 
 Who must be stayed. 
 Brad. The Queen ? 
 Crom. Go stop her, Ireton. 
 
 (Exit Ireton. J 
 
 It were not meet that earthly loves should mingle 
 
 With yonder dying prayer. Yes I Still he kneels. 
 
 Hacker come hither. If thou see a stir 
 
 Amongst the crowd, send for my horse ; they 're ready; — 
 
 Or if, midst these grave men, some feeble heart 
 
 Wax faint in the great cause, as such there be ; — 
 
 Or on the scaffold, if he cling to life 
 
 Too fondly ; — I'd not send a sinful soul 
 
 Before his time to his accompt, good Bradshaw ! 
 
 But no delay ! Is he still kneeling ? — Mark me 
 
 No idle dalUance Hacker ! I must hence. 
 
 Lest Fairfax — no weak dalliance I no delay I 
 
 The cause, the cause, good Bradshaw! 
 
 (Exit and the Scene closes.) 
 
78 CHARLES THE FIRST. [act v. 
 
 Scene III. — Another Gallery in Whitehall. 
 
 Enter Cromwell. 
 
 Crom. Methought I heard her here. — No 1 — If she win 
 To Fairfax I — he must die, as Ahab erst 
 Or Rehoboam, or as that great heathen 
 Whom Brutus loved and slew. None ever called 
 Brutus a murderer ! And Charles had trial — 
 'Twas more than Caesar had! — free open trial, 
 If he had pleaded. But the Eternal Wrath 
 Stiifened him in his pride. It was ordained. 
 And I but an impassive instrument 
 In the Almighty hand, an arrow chosen 
 From out the sheaf. If I should reign hereafter 
 Men shall not call me bloody. — Hark ! the bell ! 
 No — all is hush as midnight.— I shall be 
 Tenderer of English lives. Have they forgot 
 To sound the bell ? He must be dead. 
 
 Queen, {without) Lord Fairfax I 
 
 Crom. The Queen I the Queen ! 
 
 Enter the Queen. 
 
 Queen. They told me he was here — ■ 
 I see him not, — but I have wept me blind ;— 
 And then that axe, that keen bright edgy axe, 
 Which flashed across my eyeballs, blinding me 
 More than a sea of tears. — Here's one! — Oh fly 
 If thou be man, and bid the headsman stay 
 His blow for one short hour, one little hour. 
 Till I have found Lord Fairfax ! Thou shalt have 
 Gold, mines of gold ! Oh save him ! Save the King ! 
 
 Crom. Peace! peace! Have comfort! 
 
 Queen. Comfort! and he dies, 
 
SCENE III.] CHARLES THE FIRST. 79 
 
 They murder him ; the axe falls on his neck ; 
 The blood comes plashing ; — Comfort ! 
 
 Enter Lady Fairfax. 
 
 Lady F. Out alas ! 
 I can hear nought of Fairfax, royal Madam ! — • 
 Cromwell, the Master-murderer! 
 
 Queen. Oh forgive her ! 
 She knows not what she says. If thou be Cromwell 
 Thou hast the power to rescue : See I kneel ; 
 I kiss thy feet. Oh save him ! Take the crown ; 
 Take all but his dear life ! Oh save him, save him ! 
 And I will be thy slave ! — I, a born Princess, 
 1, a crowned Queen, will be, thy slave. 
 
 Crom. Arise ! 
 My Lady Fairfax lead this frantic woman 
 To where her children bide. 
 
 Queen. Thou wilt not make 
 My children fatherless ? Oh mercy ! Mercy I 
 I have a girl, a weeping innocent girl. 
 That never learnt to smile, and she shall be 
 Thy handmaid ; she shall tend thy daughters. I, 
 That was so proud, offer my fairest child 
 To be thy bondwoman. 
 
 Crom. Raise her ! Undo 
 These clasping hands. I marvel, Lady Fairfax, 
 Thou canst endure to see a creature kneel 
 To one create. 
 
 Lady F. Out on thee, hypocrite ! 
 Where lags my husband ? 
 
 Queen. Save him, save him, Cromwell ! 
 
 Crom. Woman arise! Will this long agony 
 Endure forever ? 
 
80 CHARLES THK FIRST. [act v 
 
 Enter Iretjn on uve .skl», followed by Fairfax and 
 Harrison on the other. 
 
 Ts he dead ? 
 
 Fair. What means 
 This piercing outcry ? 
 
 QiTEEN. Fairfax ! lie is saved I 
 Ho is saved ! 
 
 Ike. TheV.eli! the Xbbey i;ell ! Uark ! 
 
 Crow. There 
 The will of Heaven s;.ake. The King is dead. 
 
 Fair liook t. > the Quecr\. Cromwell, this bloody worl: 
 Is thine. 
 
 ' Crom. This work is mine, FoRtyon sad dame. 
 She shall away to Franco. Thi^eed is mine. 
 And I will answer H. The Commonv/ealth 
 I'o firmly 'stablished Ireton. Harrison, 
 The .Saints shall rule in I-^rael. My Lord General, 
 The army is thino own, and I a soldier, 
 A lowly follower in the cause. This Heod 
 Is mine. — 
 
 END OF THE PLAV. 
 
 PniKTEn Tiy .VonN DuncOMbe, and Co. 10, Middle Ro«'; Holbob.m.