[Exit Herbert. Were easy as to breathe, the vigilant guard
Smitten with sudden blindness, the unnumbered
And stirring swarms of this vast city locked
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
King
Already here!
Thou didst fall trembling in my arms, last night,
Dizzy and faint 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 hung 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 deep, 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
![[blocks in formation]](https://books.google.ie/books/content?id=v7gdAAAAMAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA669&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=light&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U0_TJShoL7KXk5Djedf9ittbVDpBA&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=34,474,459,370)
All thy life long the torturer Hope hath been
Thy master!-Yet if she can steal an hour
From grief-whom dost thou trust?
Queen.
Thyself and Heaven
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! On with the cloak. Begone!
King. And thou!
I pr'ythee 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 should'st 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.
King.
Oh truest, fondest woman!
My matchless wife! The pang is mastered now:
I am Death's conqueror. My Faithfullest!
My Fairest! My 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 away that image! I'll to prayer,
And pray for thee, sweet wife! I'll to my prayers.
The Banqueting House at Whitehall, glass foldingdoors opening to the Scaffold, which is covered with black. The block, are, &c. visible; Officers and other persons are busy in the background, and Cromwell is also there giving directions.
Ireton, Harrison, and Hacker, meeting Cromwell.
Har. Cromwell! Good-morrow, Ireton! Whither goes
The General?
Ire.
To see that all be ready
For this great deed.
He hath the eager step,
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.
To-day in a great combat, a most holy
Yet a man, whose doom
Fair.
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
Crom. (at the back of the Stage.) Hast thou ta'en order We might desert our friends, betray our country, That soon as the head's off the Abbey bell
Abandon our great cause, and sell our souls
To Hell. We might do this, and more; might shroud
These devilish sins in holy names, and call them
Loyalty, Honour, Faith, Repentance-cheats
Which the great Tempter loves!
Dare to impugn the sentence of a free
And public court of England
Fair. What would'st thou of me?
Crom.
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.
A leader in the land, a chosen vessel,
And yet of such a mild and gracious mood,
That I, stern as I seem, may doff to thee
This smooth and governed mask of polity,
And show the struggling heart perplexed and grieved
In all its nakedness. Yes, I 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-
We will wait ye here.
[Exeunt Fairfax and Harrison. Cromwell gives the Warrant to Hacker.
Now! now! be quick! [Exit Hacker. Is the scaffold all prepared? The headsman waiting With shrouded visage and bare arm? The axe Whetied? Be ready on the instant. Where
Be the 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.
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.
Are true to the good 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!
(Enter the King, Hacker, Herbert, a Bishop, Guards, &c.) King. Why pause ye!
(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! 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. 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. What see ye? Brad. Only the black-masked headsman. Ay, he wears
His mask upon his face, an honest mask. What see ye more?
Nought save the living sea Of human faces, blent into one mass Of sentient various life: woman and man, Childhood and infancy, and youth and age, Commingled, with its multitudinous eyes Upturned in expectation. Awful gaze! Who may abide thy power? King.
To rest awhile? Bring wine.
King.
Yes! 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!-Pr'ythee speed me
On my rough journey.
Wherefore crowd ye there?
More than a sea of tears.-Here's one.—Oh fly
If thou be a man, and bid the headsman stay
I thank thee, sir. My good Lord Bishop. 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.
They murder him; the axe falls on his neck;
The blood comes plashing!-Comfort!
Crom. Go stop her, Ireton. [Exit Ireton. It were not meet that earthly loves should mingle With yonder dying prayer. Yes! 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 dalliance, Hacker! I must hence,
Lest Fairfax-no weak dalliance! no delay!
The cause, the cause, good Bradshaw !
Thou wilt not make My children fatherless? Oh mercy! Mercy! 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 bond-woman. Crom.
[Exit and the scene closes. These clasping hands. I marvel, Lady Fairfax,
Another Gallery in Whitehall.
Enter Cromwell.
Crom. Methought I heard her here.-No!-If she
To Fairfax-he must die, as Ahab erst
Or Rehoboam, or as the great heathen
Whom Brutus loved and slew. None ever called
Brutus a murderer! And Charles had trial-
'T was more than Cæsar had!-free, open trial,
If he had pleaded. But the Eternal Wrath
Stiffened 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.
The will of Heaven spake. The King is dead.
Fair. Look to the Queen. Cromwell, this bloody work
Is thine.
Crom. This work is mine. For yon sad dame,
She shall
away to France. This deed is mine,
And I will answer it. The Commonwealth
Is firmly 'stablished. Ireton, Harrison,
The Saints shall rule in Israel. My Lord General,
The army is thine own, and I a soldier,
A lowly follower in the cause. This deed
Is mine.
|