Wentworth has dropped the hand, is gone his way On other service: what if she arise?

No! the King beckons, and beside him stands.

The same bad man once more, with the same smile And the same gesture. Now shall England crouch, Or catch at us and rise?

Voices. Haman! Hamp.

Ahithophel!

The Renegade !

Gentlemen of the North, It was not thus the night your claims were urged, And we pronounced the League and Covenant, The cause of Scotland, England's cause as well! Vane, there, sat motionless the whole night through. Vane. Hampden!

Fien.

Lou.

Stay, Vane!

Be just and patient, Vane! Vane. Mind how you counsel patience, Loudon ! you Have still a Parliament, and this your League

To back it; you are free in Scotland still:
While we are brothers, hope's for England yet.

But know you wherefore Wentworth comes? to quench

This last of hopes? that he brings war with him?
Know you the man's self? what he dares?

He would see Pym first; there were many more Strong on the people's side and friends of his, Eliot that's dead, Rudyard and Hampden here, But for these Wentworth cared not; only, Pym He would see Pym and he were sworn, 'tis said, To live and die together; so, they met

At Greenwich. Wentworth, you are sure, was long,
Specious enough, the Devil's argument

Lost nothing on his lips; he'd have Pym own
A patriot could not play a purer part

Than follow in his track; they two combined

Might put down England. Well, Pym heard him out; One glance - you know Pym's eye-one word was

all:

"You leave us, Wentworth! while your head is on, I'll not leave you."

ACT V

SCENE. The Tower. Pym, with Hampden and Vane, confronts Strafford, who is on the point of escape.

Pym. Have I done well? Speak, England! Whose

sole sake

I still have laboured for, with disregard

To my own heart, for whom my youth was made
Barren, my manhood waste, to offer up

Her sacrifice - this friend, this Wentworth here-
Who walked in youth with me, loved me, it may be,
And whom, for his forsaking England's cause,
I hunted by all means (trusting that she
Would sanctify all means) even to the block

Which waits for him. And saying this, I feel
No bitterer pang than first I felt, the hour
I swore that Wentworth might leave us, but I
Would never leave him: I do leave him now.
I render up my charge (be witness, God!)
To England who imposed it. I have done
Her bidding-poorly, wrongly, it may be,
With ill effects for I am weak, a man:

Still, I have done my best, my human best,
Not faltering for a moment. It is done.

And this said, if I say yes, I will say

More Jonathan! Even thus, I love him now:
And look for my chief portion in that world
Where great hearts led astray are turned again,
(Soon it may be, and, certes, will be soon:
My mission over, I shall not live long.) –
Ay, here I know I talk - I dare and must,
Of England, and her great reward, as all
I look for there; but in my inmost heart,
Believe, I think of stealing quite away
To walk once more with Wentworth

friend

- my youth's

Purged from all error, gloriously renewed,
And Eliot shall not blame us. Then indeed
This is no meeting, Wentworth! Tears increase
Too hot. A thin mist - is it blood?— enwraps
The face I loved once. Then, the meeting be!
Straf. I have loved England too; we'll meet then,
Pym;

As well die now!

Youth is the only time

To think and to decide on a great course:
Manhood with action follows; but 'tis dreary
To have to alter our whole life in age

The time past, the strength gone! As well die now.
When we meet, Pym, I'd be set right not now!
Best die. Then if there's any fault, fault too

Dies, smothered up.

Poor gray old little Laud May dream his dream out of a perfect Church, In some blind corner. And there's no one left. I trust the King now wholly to you, Pym! And yet, I know not: I shall not be there: Friends fail if he have any. And he's weak, And loves the Queen, and-O, my fate is nothingNothing! But not that awful head not that!

Pym. If England shall declare such will to me Straf. No, not for England now, not for Heaven.

See, Pym, for my sake, mine who kneel to you!
There, I will thank you for the death, my friend!
This is the meeting: let me love you well!

Pym. England,

exact

I am thine own! Dost thou

That service? I obey thee to the end.

Straf. O God, I shall die first — I shall die first!

CAVALIER TUNES

ROBERT BROWNING

THE death of Strafford did not appease the reformers, nor yet the king's reluctant surrender of important powers and privileges. Pym and his fellows suspected, and with good reason, the sincerity of the royal promises, while Charles's friends believed that the Parliamentarians were meditating revolution. Both factions prepared for the inevitable struggle. The king's standard was set up at Nottingham Castle (August, 1642), and many lords and gentlemen gathered there to his support. The country districts of the north and west were usually loyal. Parliament was intrenched in London, and could count on aid from the towns of the east and south. For four years the land was devastated by the contending armies.

I

MARCHING ALONG

Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King,
Bidding the crop-headed Parliament swing:
And, pressing a troop unable to stoop

And see the rogues flourish and honest folk droop,
Marched them along, fifty-score strong,
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.

God for King Charles! Pym and such carles

To the Devil that prompts 'em their treasonous parles!

Cavaliers, up! Lips from the cup,

Hands from the pasty, nor bite take nor sup
Till you're —

(Chorus) — Marching along, fifty-score strong,

Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song.