Scene I
A HOUSE NEAR WHITEHALL.
HAMPDEN, HOLLIS, the younger VANE, RUDYARD, FIENNES, and many of the
Presbyterian Party: LOUDON and other Scots Commissioners: some seated, some standing beside a table strewn over with papers, &c.
VANE.
I say, if he be here . . .
RUDYARD.
And he is here!
HOLLIS.
For England's sake let every man be still
Nor speak of him, so much as say his name, Till Pym rejoin us! Rudyard—Vane—remember One rash conclusion may decide our course And with it England's fate—think—England's fate! Hampden, for England's sake they should be still!
VANE.
You say so, Hollis? well, I must be still! It is indeed too bitter that one man— Any one man . . .
RUDYARD.
You are his brother, Hollis!
HAMPDEN.
Shame on you, Rudyard! time to tell him that, When he forgets the Mother of us all.
RUDYARD.
Do I forget her? . .
HAMPDEN.
—You talk idle hate
Against her foe: is that so strange a thing? Is hating Wentworth all the help she needs?
A PURITAN.
The Philistine strode, cursing as he went: But David—five smooth pebbles from the brook Within his scrip . . .
RUDYARD.
—Be you as still as David!
FIENNES.
Here's Rudyard not ashamed to wag a tongue
Stiff with ten years' disuse of Parliaments; Why, when the last sate, Wentworth sate with us!
RUDYARD.
Let's hope for news of them now he returns: —But I'll abide Pym's coming.
VANE.
Now by Heaven
They may be cool that can, silent that can, Some have a gift that way: Wentworth is here— Here—and the King's safe closeted with him Ere this! and when I think on all that's past Since that man left us—how his single arm Roll'd back the good of England, roll'd it back And set the woeful Past up in its place . . .
A PURITAN.
Exalting Dagon where the Ark should be!
VANE.
. . . How that man has made firm the fickle King
—Hampden, I will speak out!—in aught he feared
To venture on before; taught Tyranny
Her dismal trade, the use of all her tools, To ply the scourge yet screw the gag so close That strangled agony bleeds mute to death: —How he turns Ireland to a private stage For training infant villanies, new ways Of wringing treasure out of tears and gore, Unheard oppressions nourished in the dark To try how much Man's nature can endure —If he dies under it, what harm? if not . . .
FIENNES.
Why, one more trick is added to the rest
Worth a King's knowing—
RUDYARD.
—And what Ireland bears
England may learn to bear.
VANE.
. . . How all this while
That man has set himself to one dear task, The bringing Charles to relish more and more Power . . .
RUDYARD.
Power without law . . .
FIENNES.
Power and blood too . .
VANE.
. . . Can I be still?
HAMPDEN.
For that you should be still.
VANE.
Oh, Hampden, then and now! The year he left us
The People by its Parliament could wrest
The Bill of Rights from the reluctant King: And now,—he'll find in an obscure small room A stealthy gathering of great-hearted men That take up England's cause: England is—here!
HAMPDEN.
And who despairs of England?
RUDYARD.
That do I
If Wentworth is to rule her. I am sick
To think her wretched masters, Hamilton, The muckworm Cottington, the maniac Laud, May yet be longed for back again. I say I do despair.
VANE.
And, Rudyard, I'll say this—
And, (turning to the rest) all true men say after me! not loud—
But solemnly and as you'd say a prayer: This Charles, who treads our England under foot, Has just so much—it may be fear or craft— As bids him pause at each fresh outrage; friends, He needs some sterner hand to grasp his own, Some voice to ask, "Why shrink?—am I not by?" —A man that England loved for serving her, Found in his heart to say, "I know where best The iron heel shall bruise her, for she leans Upon me when you trample." Witness, you! But inasmuch as life is hard to take From England . . .
MANY VOICES.
Go on, Vane! 'Tis well said, Vane!
VANE.
. . . Who has not so forgotten Runnymead . . .
VOICES.
'Tis well and bravely spoken, Vane! Go on!
VANE.
. . There are some little signs of late she knows
The ground no place for her! no place for her! When the King beckons—and beside him stands The same bad man once more, with the same smile, And the same savage gesture! Now let England Make proof of us.
VOICES.
Strike him—the Renegade—
Haman—Ahithophel—
HAMPDEN.