THE NAMES

Shop was shop only: household-stuff?What did he want with comforts there?"Walls, ceiling, floor, stay blank and rough,So goods on sale show rich and rare!'Sell and scud home' be shop's affair!"

What might he deal in? Gems, suppose!Since somehow business must be doneAt cost of trouble,—see, he throwsYou choice of jewels, everyone,Good, better, best, star, moon and sun!

Which lies within your power of purse?This ruby that would tip aright76Solomon's sceptre? Oh, your nurseWants simply coral, the delightOf teething baby,—stuff to bite!

Howe'er your choice fell, straight you tookYour purchase, prompt your money rangOn counter,—scarce the man forsookHis study of the "Times," just swangTill-ward his hand that stopped the clang,—

Then off made buyer with a prize,Then seller to his "Times" returned;And so did day wear, wear, till eyesBrightened apace, for rest was earned:He locked door long ere candle burned.

And whither went he? Ask himself,Not me! To change of scene, I think.Once sold the ware and pursed the pelf,Chaffer was scarce his meat and drink,Nor all his music—money-chink.

Because a man has shop to mindIn time and place, since flesh must live,Needs spirit lack all life behind,All stray thoughts, fancies fugitive,All loves except what trade can give?

I want to know a butcher paints,A baker rhymes for his pursuit,77Candlestick-maker much acquaintsHis soul with song, or, haply mute,Blows out his brains upon the flute!

But—shop each day and all day long!Friend, your good angel slept, your starSuffered eclipse, fate did you wrong!From where these sorts of treasures are,There should our hearts be—Christ, how far!

These poems are valuable not only for furnishing an interesting interpretation of Shakespeare's character as a man and artist, but for the glimpses they give into Browning's stand toward his own art. He wished to be regarded primarily as a dramatic artist, presenting and interpreting the souls of his characters, and he must have felt keenly the stupid attitude which insisted always in reading "Browning's Philosophy" into all his poems. The fact that his objective material was of the soul rather than of the external actions of life has no doubt lent force to the supposition that Browning himself can be seen in everything he writes. It is true, nevertheless, that while much of his work is Shakespearian in its dramatic intensity, he had too forceful a philosophy of life to keep it from sometimes coming to the front. Besides he78has written many things avowedly personal as this chapter amply illustrates.

To what intensity of feeling Browning could rise when contemplating the genius of Shakespeare is revealed in his direct and outspoken tribute. Here there breathes an almost reverential attitude toward the one supremely great man he has ventured to portray.

Shakespeare!—to such name's sounding, what succeedsFitly as silence? Falter forth the spell,—Act follows word, the speaker knows full well;Nor tampers with its magic more than needs.Two names there are: That which the Hebrew readsWith his soul only: if from lips it fell,Echo, back thundered by earth, heaven and hell,Would own, "Thou didst create us!" Naught impedesWe voice the other name, man's most of might,Awesomely, lovingly: let awe and loveMutely await their working, leave to sightAll of the issue as—below—above—Shakespeare's creation rises: one remove,Though dread—this finite from that infinite.

A CRUCIAL PERIOD IN ENGLISH HISTORY

"Whomthe gods destroy they first make mad." Of no one in English history is this truer than of King Charles I. Just at a time when the nation was feeling the strength of its wings both in Church and State, when individuals were claiming the right to freedom of conscience in their form of worship and the people were growing more insistent for the recognition of their ancient rights and liberties, secured to them, in the first place, by the Magna Charta,—just at this time looms up the obstruction of a King so imbued with the defunct ideal of the divine right of Kings that he is blind to the tendencies of the age. What wonder, then, if the swirling waters of discontent should rise higher and higher until he became engulfed in their fury.

The history of the reign of Charles I. is one full of involved details, yet the broader aspects of it, the great events which chiseled into shape the future of England stand out80in bold relief in front of a background of interminable bickerings. There was constant quarreling between the factions within the English church, and between the Protestants and the Catholics, complicated by the discontent of the people and at times the nobles because of the autocratic, vacillating policy of the King.

Among these epoch-bringing events were the emergence of the Puritans from the chaos of internecine church squabbles, the determined raising of the voice of the people in the Long Parliament, where King and people finally came to an open clash in the impeachment of the King's most devoted minister, Wentworth, Earl Strafford, by Pym, the great leader in the House of Commons, ending in Strafford's execution; the Grand Remonstrance, which sounded in no uncertain tones the tocsin of the coming revolution; and finally the King's impeachment of Pym, Hampden, Holles, Hazelrigg and Strode, one of the many ill-advised moves of this Monarch which at once precipitated the Revolution.

These cataclysms at home were further intensified by the Scottish Invasion and the Irish Rebellion.

Charles I in Scene of Impeachment

It is not surprising that Browning should81have been attracted to this period of English history, when he contemplated the writing of a play on an English subject. His liberty-loving mind would naturally find congenial occupation in depicting this great English struggle for liberty. Yet the hero of the play is not Pym, the leader of the people, butStrafford,the supporter of the King. The dramatic reasons are sufficient to account for this. Strafford's career was picturesque and tragic and his personality so striking that more than one interpretation of his remarkable life is possible.

The interpretation will differ according to whether one is partisan in hatred or admiration of his character and policy, or possesses the larger quality of sympathetic appreciation of the man and the problems with which he had to deal. Any one coming to judge him in this latter spirit would undoubtedly perceive all the fine points in Strafford's nature and would balance these against his theories of government to the better understanding of this extraordinary man.

It is almost needless to say that Browning's perception of Strafford's character was penetrating and sympathetic. Strafford's devotion to his King had in it not only the element of loyalty to the liege, but an element82of personal love which would make an especial appeal to Browning. He, in consequence, seizes upon this trait as the key-note of his portrayal of Strafford.

The play is, on the whole, accurate in its historical details, though the poet's imagination has added many a flying buttress to the structure.

Forster's lives of the English Statesmen in Lardner's Cyclopædia furnished plenty of material, and he was besides familiar with some if not all of Forster's materials for the lives. One of the interesting surprises in connection with Browning's literary career was the fact divulged some years ago that he had actually helped Forster in the preparation of the Life of Strafford. Indeed it is thought that he wrote it almost entirely from the notes of Forster. Dr. Furnivall first called attention to this, and later the life of Strafford was reprinted as "Robert Browning's Prose Life of Strafford."[2]In his Forewords to this volume, Dr. Furnivall, who, among many other claims to distinction, was the president of the "London Browning Society," writes, "Three times during his life did Browning speak to me about his prose 'Life of Strafford.' The first time he said83only—in the course of chat—that very few people had any idea of how much he had helped John Forster in it. The second time he told me at length that one day he went to see Forster and found him very ill, and anxious about the 'Life of Strafford,' which he had promised to write at once, to complete a volume of 'Lives of Eminent British Statesmen' for Lardner's 'Cabinet Cyclopædia.' Forster had finished the 'Life of Eliot'—the first in the volume—and had just begun that of Strafford, for which he had made full collections and extracts; but illness had come on, he couldn't work, the book ought to be completed forthwith, as it was due in the serial issue of volumes; whatwashe to do? 'Oh,' said Browning, 'don't trouble about it. I'll take your papers and do it for you.' Forster thanked his young friend heartily, Browning put the Strafford papers under his arm, walked off, worked hard, finished the Life, and it came out to time in 1836, to Forster's great relief, and passed under his name." Professor Gardiner, the historian, was of the opinion from internal evidence that the Life was more Browning's than Forster's. He said to Furnivall, "It is not a historian's conception of the character but a poet's. I am certain that it's not Forster's. Yes, it84makes mistakes in facts and dates, but, it has got the man—in the main." In this opinion Furnivall concurs. Of the last paragraph in the history he exclaims, "I could swear it was Browning's":—The paragraph in question sums up the character of Strafford and is interesting in this connection, as giving hints, though not the complete picture of the Strafford of the Drama.

"A great lesson is written in the life of this truly extraordinary person. In the career of Strafford is to be sought the justification of the world's 'appeal from tyranny to God.' In him Despotism had at length obtained an instrument with mind to comprehend, and resolution to act upon, her principles in their length and breadth,—and enough of her purposes were effected by him, to enable mankind to 'see as from a tower the end of all.' I cannot discern one false step in Strafford's public conduct, one glimpse of a recognition of an alien principle, one instance of a dereliction of the law of his being, which can come in to dispute the decisive result of the experiment, or explain away its failure. The least vivid fancy will have no difficulty in taking up the interrupted design, and by wholly enfeebling, or materially emboldening, the insignificant nature of Charles; and by accord85ing some half-dozen years of immunity to the 'fretted tenement' of Strafford's 'fierysoul',—contemplate then, for itself, the perfect realization of the scheme of 'making the prince the most absolute lord in Christendom.' That done,—let it pursue the same course with respect to Eliot's noble imaginings, or to young Vane's dreamy aspirings, and apply in like manner a fit machinery to the working out the projects which made the dungeon of the one a holy place, and sustained the other in his self-imposed exile.—The result is great and decisive! It establishes, in renewed force, those principles of political conduct which have endured, and must continue to endure, 'like truth from age to age.'" The history, on the whole, lacks the grasp in the portrayal of Wentworth to be found in the drama. C. H. Firth, commenting upon this says truly, "One might almost say that in the first, Strafford was represented as he appeared to his opponents, and in the second as he appeared to himself; or that, having painted Strafford as he was, Browning painted him again as he wished to be. In the biography Strafford is exhibited as a man of rare gifts and noble qualities; yet in his political capacity, merely the conscious, the devoted tool of a tyrant. In the tragedy, on the other86hand, Strafford is the champion of the King's will against the people's, but yet looks forward to the ultimate reconciliation of Charles and his subjects, and strives for it after his own fashion. He loves the master he serves, and dies for him, but when the end comes he can proudly answer his accusers, 'I have loved England too.'"

The play opens at the important moment of Wentworth's return to London from Ireland, where for some time he had been governor. The occasion of his return, according to Gardiner, was a personal quarrel with the Chancellor Loftus, of Ireland. Both men were allowed to come to England to plead their cause, which resulted in the victory of Wentworth. In the play Pym says, "Ay, the Court gives out His own concerns have brought him back: I know 'tis the King calls him." The authority for this remark is found in the Forster-Browning Life. "In the danger threatened by the Scots' Covenant, Wentworth was Charles's only hope; the King sent for him, saying he desired his personal counsel and attendance. He wrote: 'The Scots' Covenant begins to spread too far, yet, for all this, I will not have you take notice that I have sent for you, but pretend some other occasion of business.'" Certain it is that from this time Wentworth87became the most trusted counsellor of Charles, that is, as far as Charles was capable of trusting any one. The condition of affairs to which Wentworth returned is brought out in the play in a thoroughly alive and human manner. We are introduced to the principal actors in the struggle for their rights and privileges against the government of Charles meeting in a house near Whitehall. Among the "great-hearted" men are Hampden, Hollis, the younger Vane, Rudyard, Fiennes—all leaders in the "Faction,"—Presbyterians, Loudon and other members of the Scots' commissioners. A bit of history has been drawn upon for this opening scene, for according to the Forster-Browning Life, "There is no doubt that a close correspondence with the Scotch commissioners, headed by Lords Loudon and Dumferling, was entered into under the management of Pym and Hampden. Whenever necessity obliged the meetings to be held in London, they took place at Pym's house in Gray's Inn Lane." In the talk between these men the political situation in England at the time from the point of view of the liberal party is brought vividly before the reader.

There has been no Parliament in England for ten years, hence the people have had no88say in the direction of the government. The growing dissatisfaction of the people at being thus deprived of their rights focussed itself upon the question of "ship-money." The taxes levied by the King for the maintainance of a fleet were loudly objected to upon all sides. That a fleet was a necessary means of protection in those threatening times is not to be doubted, but the objections of the people were grounded upon the fact that the King levied these taxes upon his own authority. "Ship-money, it was loudly declared," says Gardiner, "was undeniably a tax, and the ancient customs of the realm, recently embodied in the Petition of Right, had announced with no doubtful voice that no tax could be levied without consent of Parliament. Even this objection was not the full measure of the evil. If Charles could take this money without the consent of Parliament, he need not, unless some unforeseen emergency arose, ever summon a Parliament again. The true question at issue was whether Parliament formed an integral part of the Constitution or not." Other taxes were objected to on the same grounds, and the more determined the King was not to summon a Parliament, the greater became the political ferment.

Thomas Wentworth, Earl of Strafford

At the same time the religious ferment was89centering itself upon hatred of Laud, the Archbishop of Canterbury. His policy was to silence opposition to the methods of worship then followed by the Church of England, by the terrors of the Star Chamber. The Puritans were smarting under the sentence which had been passed upon the three pamphleteers, William Prynne, Henry Burton, and John Bastwick, who had expressed their opinions of the practises of the church with great outspokenness. Prynne called upon pious King Charles "to do justice on the whole Episcopal order by which he had been robbed of the love of God and of his people, and which aimed at plucking the crown from his head, that they might set it on their own ambitious pates." Burton hinted that "the sooner the office of the Bishops was abolished the better it would be for the nation." Bastwick, who had been brought up in the straitest principles of Puritanism, had ended his pamphlet "Flagellum Pontificis," with this outburst, "Take notice, so far am I from flying or fearing, as I resolve to make war against the Beast, and every hint of Antichrist, all the days of my life. If I die in that battle, so much the sooner I shall be sent in a chariot of triumph to heaven; and when I come there, I will, with those that are under the altar cry,90'How long, Lord, holy and true, dost Thou not judge and avenge our blood upon them that dwell upon the earth?'"

These men were called before the Star Chamber upon a charge of libel. The sentence was a foregone conclusion, and was so outrageous that its result could only be the strengthening of opposition. The "muckworm" Cottington, as Browning calls him, suggested the sentence which was carried out. The men were condemned to lose their ears, to pay a fine of £5000 each, and to be imprisoned for the remainder of their lives in the castles of Carnarvon, Launceston, and Lancaster. Finch, not satisfied with this, added the savage wish that Prynne should be branded on the cheek with the letters S. L., to stand for "seditious libeller," and this was also done.

The account of the execution of this sentence is almost too horrible to read. Some one who recorded the scene wrote, "The humours of the people were various; some wept, some laughed, and some were very reserved." Prynne, whose sufferings had been greatest for he had been burned as well as having his ears taken off, was yet able to indulge in a grim piece of humor touching the letters S. L. branded on his cheeks. He91called them "Stigmata Laudis," the "Scars of Laud," on his way back to prison. Popular demonstrations in favor of the prisoners were made all along the road when they were taken to their respective prisons, where they were allowed neither pen, ink nor books. Fearful lest they might somehow still disseminate their heretical doctrines to the outer world, the council removed them to still more distant prisons, in the Scilly Isles, in Guernsey and in Jersey. Retaliation against this treatment found open expression. "A copy of the Star Chamber decree was nailed to a board. Its corners were cut off as the ears of Laud's victims had been cut off at Westminster. A broad ink mark was drawn round Laud's name. An inscription declared that 'The man that puts the saints of God into a pillory of wood stands here in a pillory of ink!'"

Things were brought to a crisis in Scotland also, through hatred of Laud and the new prayer-book. TheKing, upon his visit to Scotland, had been shocked at the slovenly appearance and the slovenly ritual of the Scottish Church, which reflected strongly survivals of the Presbyterianism of an earlier time. The King wrote to the Scottish Bishops soon after his return to England: "We, tendering the good and peace of that Church by92having good and decent order and discipline observed therein, whereby religion and God's worship may increase, and considering that there is nothing more defective in that Church than the want of a Book of Common Prayer and uniform service to be kept in all the churches thereof, and the want of canons for the uniformity of the same, we are hereby pleased to authorise you as the representative body of that Church, and do herewith will and require you to condescend upon a form of Church service to be used therein, and to set down the canons for the uniformity of the discipline thereof." Laud, who as Archbishop of Canterbury had no jurisdiction over Scottish Bishops, put his finger into the pie as secretary of the King. As Gardiner says, "He conveyed instructions to the Bishops, remonstrated with proceedings which shocked his sense of order, and held out prospects of advancement to the zealous. Scotchmen naturally took offense. They did not trouble themselves to distinguish between the secretary and the archbishop. They simply said that the Pope of Canterbury was as bad as the Pope of Rome."

The upshot of it all was that in May, 1637, the "new Prayer-book" was sent to Scotland, and every minister was ordered to buy two93copies on pain of outlawry. Riots followed. It was finally decided that it must be settled once for all whether a King had any right to change the forms of worship without the sanction of a legislative assembly. Then came the Scottish Covenant which declared the intention of the signers to uphold religious liberty. The account of the signing of this covenant is one of the most impressive episodes in all history. The Covenant was carried on the 28th of February, 1638, to the Grey Friars' Church to which all the gentlemen present in Edinburgh had been summoned. The scene has been most sympathetically described by Gardiner.

"At four o'clock in the grey winter evening, the noblemen, the Earl of Sutherland leading the way began to sign. Then came the gentlemen, one after the other until nearly eight. The next day the ministers were called on to testify their approval, and nearly three hundred signatures were obtained before night. The Commissioners of the boroughs signed at the same time.

"On the third day the people of Edinburgh were called on to attest their devotion to the cause which was represented by the Covenant. Tradition long loved to tell how the honored parchment, carried back to the Grey Friars,94was laid out on a tombstone in the churchyard, whilst weeping multitudes pressed round in numbers too great to be contained in any building. There are moments when the stern Scottish nature breaks out into an enthusiasm less passionate, but more enduring, than the frenzy of a Southern race. As each man and woman stepped forward in turn, with the right hand raised to heaven before the pen was grasped, every one there present knew that there would be no flinching amongst that band of brothers till their religion was safe from intrusive violence.

"Modern narrators may well turn their attention to the picturesqueness of the scene, to the dark rocks of the Castle crag over against the churchyard, and to the earnest faces around. The men of the seventeenth century had no thought to spare for the earth beneath or for the sky above. What they saw was their country's faith trodden under foot, what they felt was the joy of those who had been long led astray, and had now returned to the Shepherd and Bishop of their souls."

Such were the conditions that brought on the Scotch war, neither Charles nor Wentworth being wise enough to make concessions to the Covenanters.

95The grievances against the King's Minister Wentworth are in this opening scene shown as being aggravated by the fact that the men of the "Faction" regard him as a deserter from their cause, Pym, himself being one of the number who is loth to think Wentworth stands for the King's policy.

The historical ground for the assumption lies in the fact that Wentworth was one of the leaders of the opposition in the Parliament of 1628.

The reason for this was largely personal, because of Buckingham's treatment of him. Wentworth had refused to take part in the collection of the forced loan of 1626, and was dismissed from his official posts in consequence. When he further refused to subscribe to that loan himself he was imprisoned in the Marshalsea and at Depford. Regarding himself as personally attacked by Buckingham, he joined the opposition. Yet, as Firth points out, "fiercely as he attacked the King's ministers, he was careful to exonerate the King." He concludes his list of grievances by saying, "This hath not been done by the King, but by projectors." Again, "Whether we shall look upon the King or his people, it did never more behove this great physician the parliament, to effect a true96consent amongst the parties than now. Both are injured, both to be cured. By one and the same thing hath the King and people been hurt. I speak truly both for the interest of the King and the people."

His intention was to find some means of cooperation which would leave the people their liberty and yet give the crown its prerogative, "Let us make what laws we can, there must—nay, there will be a trust left in the crown."

It will be seen by any unbiased critic that Wentworth was only half for the people even at this time. On the other hand, it is not astonishing that men, heart and soul for the people, should consider Wentworth's subsequent complete devotion to the cause of the King sufficient to brand him as an apostate. The fact that he received so many official dignities from the King also leant color to the supposition that personal ambition was a leading motive with him. With true dramatic instinct Browning has centered this feeling and made the most of it in the attitude of Pym's party, while he offsets it later in the play by showing us the reality of the man Strafford.

There is no very authentic source for the idea also brought out in this first scene that97Strafford and Pym had been warm personal friends. The story is told by Dr. James Welwood, one of the physicians of William III., who, in the year 1700, published a volume entitled "Memoirs, of the most material transactions in England for the last hundred years preceding the Revolution of 1688." Without mentioning any source he tells the following story; "There had been a long and intimate friendship between Mr. Pym and him [Wentworth], and they had gone hand in hand in everything in the House of Commons. But when Sir Thomas Wentworth was upon making his peace with the Court, he sent to Pym to meet him alone at Greenwich; where he began in a set speech to sound Mr. Pym about the dangers they were like to run by the courses they were in; and what advantages they might have if they would but listen to some offers which would probably be made them from the Court. Pym understanding his speech stopped him short with this expression: 'You need not use all this art to tell me you have a mind to leave us; but remember what I tell you, you are going to be undone. But remember, that though you leave us now I will never leave you while your head is upon your shoulders.'"

98Though only a tradition this was entirely too useful a suggestion not to be used. The intensity of the situation between the leaders on opposite sides is enhanced tenfold by bringing into the field a personal sentiment.

The attitude of Pym's followers is reflected again in their opinion of Wentworth's Irish rule. Although Wentworth's policy seemed to be successful in Ireland, the very fact of its success would condemn it in the eyes of the popular party; besides later developments revealed its weaknesses. How it appeared to the eyes of a non-fanatical observer at this time may be gathered from the following letter of Sir Thomas Roe to the Queen of Bohemia, written in 1634.

"The Lord Deputy of Ireland doth great wonders, and governs like a King, and hath taught that Kingdom to show us an example of envy, by having parliaments, and knowing wisely how to use them; for they have given the King six subsidies, which will arise to £240,000, and they are like to have the liberty we contended for, and grace from his Majesty worth their gift double; and which is worth much more, the honor of good intelligence and love between the King and people, which I would to God our great wits had had eyes99to see. This is a great service, and to give your Majesty a character of the man,—he is severe abroad and in business, and sweet in private conversation; retired in his friendships, but very firm; a terrible judge and a strong enemy; a servant violently zealous in his Master's ends, and not negligent of his own; one that will have what he will, and though of great reason, he can make his will greater when it may serve him; affecting glory by a seeming contempt; one that cannot stay long in the middle region of fortune, being entreprenant; but will either be the greatest man in England, or much less than he is; lastly, one that may (and his nature lies fit for it, for he is ambitious to do what others will not), do your Majesty very great service, if you can make him."

In order to be in sympathy with the play throughout and especially with the first scene all this historical background must be kept in mind, for the talk gives no direct information, it merely in an absolutely dramatic fashion reveals the feelings and opinions of the men upon the situation, just as friends at a dinner party might discuss one of our own less strenuous political situations—all present being perfectly familiar with the issues at stake.

100

STRAFFORDACT IScene I.—A House near Whitehall.Hampden, Hollis, theyoungerVane, Rudyard,Fiennesand many of the Presbyterian Party:Loudonand other Scots' Commissioners.Vane.I say, if he be here—Rudyard.(And he is here!)—Hollis.For England's sake let every man be stillNor speak of him, so much as say his name,Till Pym rejoin us! Rudyard! Henry Vane!One rash conclusion may decide our courseAnd 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's mere presence, should suspendEngland's combined endeavor: little needTo name him!Rudyard.For 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 hateAgainst 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 brookWithin his scrip....Rudyard.Be you as still as David!Fiennes.Here's Rudyard not ashamed to wag a tongue101Stiff with ten years' disuse of Parliaments;Why, when the last sat, Wentworth sat with us!Rudyard.Let's hope for news of them now he returns—He that was safe in Ireland, as we thought!—But I'll abide Pym's coming.Vane.Now, by Heaven,They may be cool who can, silent who will—Some have a gift that way! Wentworth is here,Here, and the King's safe closeted with himEre this. And when I think on all that's pastSince that man left us, how his single armRolled the advancing good of England backAnd set the woeful past up in its place,Exalting Dagon where the Ark should be,—How that man has made firm the fickle King(Hampden, I will speak out!)—in aught he fearedTo venture on before; taught tyrannyHer dismal trade, the use of all her tools,To ply the scourge yet screw the gag so closeThat strangled agony bleeds mute to death;How he turns Ireland to a private stageFor training infant villanies, new waysOf wringing treasure out of tears and blood,Unheard oppressions nourished in the darkTo try how much man's nature can endure—If he dies under it, what harm? if not,Why, one more trick is added to the restWorth a king's knowing, and what Ireland bearsEngland may learn to bear:—how all this whileThat man has set himself to one dear task,The bringing Charles to relish more and morePower, power without law, power and blood too—Can I be still?Hampden.For that you should be still.102Vane.Oh Hampden, then and now! The year he left us,The People in full Parliament could wrestThe Bill of Rights from the reluctant King;And now, he'll find in an obscure small roomA stealthy gathering of great-hearted menThat take up England's cause: England is here!Hampden.And who despairs of England?Rudyard.That do I,If Wentworth comes to rule her. I am sickTo 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—Which all true men say after me, not loudBut solemnly and as you'd say a prayer!This King, who treads our England underfoot,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?"Now, one whom England loved for serving her,Found in his heart to say, "I know where bestThe iron heel shall bruise her, for she leansUpon me when you trample." Witness, you!So Wentworth heartened Charles, so England fell.But inasmuch as life is hard to takeFrom 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 knowsThe ground no place for her. She glances round,Wentworth has dropped the hand, is gone his way103On other service: what if she arise?No! the King beckons, and beside him standsThe same bad man once more, with the same smileAnd the same gesture. Now shall England crouch,Or catch at us and rise?Voices.The Renegade!Haman! Ahithophel!Hampden.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!Fiennes.Stay, Vane!Loudon.Be just and patient, Vane!Vane.Mind how you counsel patience, Loudon! youHave still a Parliament, and this your LeagueTo back it; you are free in Scotland still:While we are brothers, hope's for England yet.But know you wherefore Wentworth comes? to quenchThis last of hopes? that he brings war with him?Know you the man's self? what he dares?Loudon.We know,All know—'tis nothing new.Vane.And what's new, then,In calling for his life? Why, Pym himself—You must have heard—ere Wentworth dropped our causeHe would see Pym first; there were many moreStrong on the people's side and friends of his,Eliot that's dead, Rudyard and Hampden here,But for these Wentworth cared not; only, PymHe would see—Pym and he were sworn, 'tis said,To live and die together; so, they metAt Greenwich. Wentworth, you are sure, was long,104Specious enough, the devil's argumentLost nothing on his lips; he'd have Pym ownA patriot could not play a purer partThan follow in his track; they two combinedMight 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."Hampden.Has he left Wentworth, then?Has England lost him? Will you let him speak,Or put your crude surmises in his mouth?Away with this! Will you have Pym or Vane?Voices.Wait Pym's arrival! Pym shall speak.Hampden.MeanwhileLet Loudon read the Parliament's reportFrom Edinburgh: our last hope, as Vane says,Is in the stand it makes. Loudon!Vane.No, no!Silent I can be: not indifferent!Hampden.Then each keep silence, praying God to spareHis anger, cast not England quite awayIn this her visitation!A Puritan.Seven years longThe Midianite drove Israel into densAnd caves. Till God sent forth a mighty man,PymentersEven Gideon!Pym.Wentworth's come: nor sickness, care,The ravaged body nor the ruined soul,More than the winds and waves that beat his ship,Could keep him from the King. He has not reachedWhitehall: they've hurried up a Council thereTo lose no time and find him work enough.Where's Loudon? your Scots' Parliament....Loudon.Holds firm:105We were about to read reports.Pym.The KingHas just dissolved your Parliament.Loudon and other Scots.Great God!An oath-breaker! Stand by us, England, then!Pym.The King's too sanguine; doubtless Wentworth's here;But still some little form might be kept up.Hampden.Now speak, Vane! Rudyard, you had much to say!Hollis.The rumor's false, then....Pym.Ay, the Court gives outHis own concerns have brought him back: I know'Tis the King calls him. Wentworth supersedesThe tribe of Cottingtons and HamiltonsWhose part is played; there's talk enough, by this,—Merciful talk, the King thinks: time is nowTo turn the record's last and bloody leafWhich, chronicling a nation's great despair,Tells they were long rebellious, and their lordIndulgent, till, all kind expedients tried,He drew the sword on them and reigned in peace.Laud's laying his religion on the ScotsWas the last gentle entry: the new pageShall run, the King thinks, "Wentworth thrust it downAt the sword's point."A Puritan.I'll do your bidding, Pym,England's and God's—one blow!Pym.A goodly thing—We all say, friends, it is a goodly thingTo right that England. Heaven grows dark above:Let's snatch one moment ere the thunder fall,To say how well the English spirit comes out106Beneath it! All have done their best, indeed,From lion Eliot, that grand Englishman,To the least here: and who, the least one here,When she is saved (for her redemption dawnsDimly, most dimly, but it dawns—it dawns)Who'd give at any price his hope awayOf being named along with the Great Men?We would not—no, we would not give that up!Hampden.And one name shall be dearer than all names.When children, yet unborn, are taught that nameAfter their fathers',—taught what matchless man....Pym.... Saved England? What if Wentworth's should be stillThat name?Rudyard and others.We have just said it, Pym! His deathSaves her! We said it—there's no way beside!I'll do God's bidding, Pym! They struck down JoabAnd purged the land.Vane.No villanous striking-down!Rudyard.No, a calm vengeance: let the whole land riseAnd shout for it. No Feltons!Pym.Rudyard, no!England rejects all Feltons; most of allSince Wentworth ... Hampden, say the trust againOf England in her servants—but I'll thinkYou know me, all of you. Then, I believe,Spite of the past, Wentworth rejoins you, friends!Vane and others.Wentworth? Apostate! Judas! Double-dyedA traitor! Is it Pym, indeed....Pym.... Who saysVane never knew that Wentworth, loved that man,107Was used to stroll with him, arm locked in arm,Along the streets to see the people pass,And read in every island-countenanceFresh argument for God against the King,—Never sat down, say, in the very houseWhere Eliot's brow grew broad with noble thoughts,(You've joined us, Hampden—Hollis, you as well,)And then left talking over Gracchus' death....Vane.To frame, we know it well, the choicest clauseIn the Petition of Right: he framed such clauseOne month before he took at the King's handHis Northern Presidency, which that BillDenounced.Pym.Too true! Never more, never moreWalked we together! Most alone I went.I have had friends—all here are fast my friends—But I shall never quite forget that friend.And yet it could not but be real in him!You, Vane,—you, Rudyard, have no right to trustTo Wentworth: but can no one hope with me?Hampden, will Wentworth dare shed English bloodLike water?Hampden.Ireland is Aceldama.Pym.Will he turn Scotland to a hunting-groundTo please the King, now that he knows the King?The People or the King? and that King, Charles!Hampden.Pym, all here know you: you'll not set your heartOn any baseless dream. But say one deedOf Wentworth's since he left us....[Shouting without.Vane.There! he comes,And they shout for him! Wentworth's at Whitehall,The King embracing him, now, as we speak,108And he, to be his match in courtesies,Taking the whole war's risk upon himself,Now, while you tell us here how changed he is!Hear you?Pym.And yet if 'tis a dream, no more,That Wentworth chose their side, and brought the KingTo love it as though Laud had loved it first,And the Queen after;—that he led their causeCalm to success, and kept it spotless through,So that our very eyes could look uponThe travail of our souls, and close contentThat violence, which something mars even rightWhich sanctions it, had taken off no graceFrom its serene regard. Only a dream!Hampden.We meet here to accomplish certain goodBy obvious means, and keep tradition upOf free assemblages, else obsolete,In this poor chamber: nor without effectHas friend met friend to counsel and confirm,As, listening to the beats of England's heart,We spoke its wants to Scotland's prompt replyBy these her delegates. Remains aloneThat word grow deed, as with God's help it shall—But with the devil's hindrance, who doubts too?Looked we or no that tyranny should turnHer engines of oppression to their use?Whereof, suppose the worst be Wentworth here—Shall we break off the tactics which succeedIn drawing out our formidablest foe,Let bickering and disunion take their place?Or count his presence as our conquest's proof,And keep the old arms at their steady play?Proceed to England's work! Fiennes, read the list!Fiennes.Ship-money is refused or fiercely paid109In every county, save the northern partsWhere Wentworth's influence....[Shouting.Vane.I, in England's name,Declare her work, this way, at end! Till now,Up to this moment, peaceful strife was best.We English had free leave to think; till now,We had a shadow of a ParliamentIn Scotland. But all's changed: they change the first,They try brute-force for law, they, first of all....Voices.Good! Talk enough! The old true hearts with Vane!Vane.Till we crush Wentworth for her, there's no actServes England!Voices.Vane for England!Pym.Pym should beSomething to England. I seek Wentworth, friends.

Hampden, Hollis, theyoungerVane, Rudyard,Fiennesand many of the Presbyterian Party:Loudonand other Scots' Commissioners.

Vane.I say, if he be here—

Rudyard.(And he is here!)—

Hollis.For England's sake let every man be stillNor speak of him, so much as say his name,Till Pym rejoin us! Rudyard! Henry Vane!One rash conclusion may decide our courseAnd 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's mere presence, should suspendEngland's combined endeavor: little needTo name him!

Rudyard.For 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 hateAgainst 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 brookWithin his scrip....

Rudyard.Be you as still as David!

Fiennes.Here's Rudyard not ashamed to wag a tongue101Stiff with ten years' disuse of Parliaments;Why, when the last sat, Wentworth sat with us!

Rudyard.Let's hope for news of them now he returns—He that was safe in Ireland, as we thought!—But I'll abide Pym's coming.

Vane.Now, by Heaven,They may be cool who can, silent who will—Some have a gift that way! Wentworth is here,Here, and the King's safe closeted with himEre this. And when I think on all that's pastSince that man left us, how his single armRolled the advancing good of England backAnd set the woeful past up in its place,Exalting Dagon where the Ark should be,—How that man has made firm the fickle King(Hampden, I will speak out!)—in aught he fearedTo venture on before; taught tyrannyHer dismal trade, the use of all her tools,To ply the scourge yet screw the gag so closeThat strangled agony bleeds mute to death;How he turns Ireland to a private stageFor training infant villanies, new waysOf wringing treasure out of tears and blood,Unheard oppressions nourished in the darkTo try how much man's nature can endure—If he dies under it, what harm? if not,Why, one more trick is added to the restWorth a king's knowing, and what Ireland bearsEngland may learn to bear:—how all this whileThat man has set himself to one dear task,The bringing Charles to relish more and morePower, power without law, power and blood too—Can I be still?

Hampden.For that you should be still.

102Vane.Oh Hampden, then and now! The year he left us,The People in full Parliament could wrestThe Bill of Rights from the reluctant King;And now, he'll find in an obscure small roomA stealthy gathering of great-hearted menThat take up England's cause: England is here!

Hampden.And who despairs of England?

Rudyard.That do I,If Wentworth comes to rule her. I am sickTo 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—Which all true men say after me, not loudBut solemnly and as you'd say a prayer!This King, who treads our England underfoot,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?"Now, one whom England loved for serving her,Found in his heart to say, "I know where bestThe iron heel shall bruise her, for she leansUpon me when you trample." Witness, you!So Wentworth heartened Charles, so England fell.But inasmuch as life is hard to takeFrom 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 knowsThe ground no place for her. She glances round,Wentworth has dropped the hand, is gone his way103On other service: what if she arise?No! the King beckons, and beside him standsThe same bad man once more, with the same smileAnd the same gesture. Now shall England crouch,Or catch at us and rise?

Voices.The Renegade!Haman! Ahithophel!

Hampden.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!

Fiennes.Stay, Vane!

Loudon.Be just and patient, Vane!

Vane.Mind how you counsel patience, Loudon! youHave still a Parliament, and this your LeagueTo back it; you are free in Scotland still:While we are brothers, hope's for England yet.But know you wherefore Wentworth comes? to quenchThis last of hopes? that he brings war with him?Know you the man's self? what he dares?

Loudon.We know,All know—'tis nothing new.

Vane.And what's new, then,In calling for his life? Why, Pym himself—You must have heard—ere Wentworth dropped our causeHe would see Pym first; there were many moreStrong on the people's side and friends of his,Eliot that's dead, Rudyard and Hampden here,But for these Wentworth cared not; only, PymHe would see—Pym and he were sworn, 'tis said,To live and die together; so, they metAt Greenwich. Wentworth, you are sure, was long,104Specious enough, the devil's argumentLost nothing on his lips; he'd have Pym ownA patriot could not play a purer partThan follow in his track; they two combinedMight 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."

Hampden.Has he left Wentworth, then?Has England lost him? Will you let him speak,Or put your crude surmises in his mouth?Away with this! Will you have Pym or Vane?

Voices.Wait Pym's arrival! Pym shall speak.

Hampden.MeanwhileLet Loudon read the Parliament's reportFrom Edinburgh: our last hope, as Vane says,Is in the stand it makes. Loudon!

Vane.No, no!Silent I can be: not indifferent!

Hampden.Then each keep silence, praying God to spareHis anger, cast not England quite awayIn this her visitation!

A Puritan.Seven years longThe Midianite drove Israel into densAnd caves. Till God sent forth a mighty man,

Pymenters

Even Gideon!

Pym.Wentworth's come: nor sickness, care,The ravaged body nor the ruined soul,More than the winds and waves that beat his ship,Could keep him from the King. He has not reachedWhitehall: they've hurried up a Council thereTo lose no time and find him work enough.Where's Loudon? your Scots' Parliament....

Loudon.Holds firm:105We were about to read reports.

Pym.The KingHas just dissolved your Parliament.

Loudon and other Scots.Great God!An oath-breaker! Stand by us, England, then!

Pym.The King's too sanguine; doubtless Wentworth's here;But still some little form might be kept up.

Hampden.Now speak, Vane! Rudyard, you had much to say!

Hollis.The rumor's false, then....

Pym.Ay, the Court gives outHis own concerns have brought him back: I know'Tis the King calls him. Wentworth supersedesThe tribe of Cottingtons and HamiltonsWhose part is played; there's talk enough, by this,—Merciful talk, the King thinks: time is nowTo turn the record's last and bloody leafWhich, chronicling a nation's great despair,Tells they were long rebellious, and their lordIndulgent, till, all kind expedients tried,He drew the sword on them and reigned in peace.Laud's laying his religion on the ScotsWas the last gentle entry: the new pageShall run, the King thinks, "Wentworth thrust it downAt the sword's point."

A Puritan.I'll do your bidding, Pym,England's and God's—one blow!

Pym.A goodly thing—We all say, friends, it is a goodly thingTo right that England. Heaven grows dark above:Let's snatch one moment ere the thunder fall,To say how well the English spirit comes out106Beneath it! All have done their best, indeed,From lion Eliot, that grand Englishman,To the least here: and who, the least one here,When she is saved (for her redemption dawnsDimly, most dimly, but it dawns—it dawns)Who'd give at any price his hope awayOf being named along with the Great Men?We would not—no, we would not give that up!

Hampden.And one name shall be dearer than all names.When children, yet unborn, are taught that nameAfter their fathers',—taught what matchless man....

Pym.... Saved England? What if Wentworth's should be stillThat name?

Rudyard and others.We have just said it, Pym! His deathSaves her! We said it—there's no way beside!I'll do God's bidding, Pym! They struck down JoabAnd purged the land.

Vane.No villanous striking-down!

Rudyard.No, a calm vengeance: let the whole land riseAnd shout for it. No Feltons!

Pym.Rudyard, no!England rejects all Feltons; most of allSince Wentworth ... Hampden, say the trust againOf England in her servants—but I'll thinkYou know me, all of you. Then, I believe,Spite of the past, Wentworth rejoins you, friends!

Vane and others.Wentworth? Apostate! Judas! Double-dyedA traitor! Is it Pym, indeed....

Pym.... Who saysVane never knew that Wentworth, loved that man,107Was used to stroll with him, arm locked in arm,Along the streets to see the people pass,And read in every island-countenanceFresh argument for God against the King,—Never sat down, say, in the very houseWhere Eliot's brow grew broad with noble thoughts,(You've joined us, Hampden—Hollis, you as well,)And then left talking over Gracchus' death....

Vane.To frame, we know it well, the choicest clauseIn the Petition of Right: he framed such clauseOne month before he took at the King's handHis Northern Presidency, which that BillDenounced.

Pym.Too true! Never more, never moreWalked we together! Most alone I went.I have had friends—all here are fast my friends—But I shall never quite forget that friend.And yet it could not but be real in him!You, Vane,—you, Rudyard, have no right to trustTo Wentworth: but can no one hope with me?Hampden, will Wentworth dare shed English bloodLike water?

Hampden.Ireland is Aceldama.

Pym.Will he turn Scotland to a hunting-groundTo please the King, now that he knows the King?The People or the King? and that King, Charles!

Hampden.Pym, all here know you: you'll not set your heartOn any baseless dream. But say one deedOf Wentworth's since he left us....

[Shouting without.

Vane.There! he comes,And they shout for him! Wentworth's at Whitehall,The King embracing him, now, as we speak,108And he, to be his match in courtesies,Taking the whole war's risk upon himself,Now, while you tell us here how changed he is!Hear you?

Pym.And yet if 'tis a dream, no more,That Wentworth chose their side, and brought the KingTo love it as though Laud had loved it first,And the Queen after;—that he led their causeCalm to success, and kept it spotless through,So that our very eyes could look uponThe travail of our souls, and close contentThat violence, which something mars even rightWhich sanctions it, had taken off no graceFrom its serene regard. Only a dream!

Hampden.We meet here to accomplish certain goodBy obvious means, and keep tradition upOf free assemblages, else obsolete,In this poor chamber: nor without effectHas friend met friend to counsel and confirm,As, listening to the beats of England's heart,We spoke its wants to Scotland's prompt replyBy these her delegates. Remains aloneThat word grow deed, as with God's help it shall—But with the devil's hindrance, who doubts too?Looked we or no that tyranny should turnHer engines of oppression to their use?Whereof, suppose the worst be Wentworth here—Shall we break off the tactics which succeedIn drawing out our formidablest foe,Let bickering and disunion take their place?Or count his presence as our conquest's proof,And keep the old arms at their steady play?Proceed to England's work! Fiennes, read the list!

Fiennes.Ship-money is refused or fiercely paid109In every county, save the northern partsWhere Wentworth's influence....

[Shouting.

Vane.I, in England's name,Declare her work, this way, at end! Till now,Up to this moment, peaceful strife was best.We English had free leave to think; till now,We had a shadow of a ParliamentIn Scotland. But all's changed: they change the first,They try brute-force for law, they, first of all....

Voices.Good! Talk enough! The old true hearts with Vane!

Vane.Till we crush Wentworth for her, there's no actServes England!

Voices.Vane for England!

Pym.Pym should beSomething to England. I seek Wentworth, friends.

In the second scene of the first act, the man upon whom the popular party has been heaping opprobrium appears to speak for himself. Again the historical background must be known in order that the whole drift of the scene may be understood. Wentworth is talking with Lady Carlisle, a woman celebrated for her beauty and her wit, and fond of having friendships with great men. Various opinions of this beautiful woman have been expressed by those who knew her. "Her beauty," writes one, "brought her adorers of all ranks, courtiers, and poets, and statesmen; but she remained untouched by their worship." Sir Toby Mathews who pre110fixed to a collection of letters published in 1660 "A character of the most excellent Lady, Lucy, Countess of Carlisle," writes that she will "freely discourse of love, and hear both the fancies and powers of it; but if you will needs bring it within knowledge, and boldly direct it to herself, she is likely to divert the discourse, or, at least, seem not to understand it. By which you may know her humour, and her justice; for since she cannot love in earnest she would have nothing from love." According to him she filled her mind "with gallant fancies, and high and elevated thoughts," and "her wit being most eminent among the rest of her great abilities," even the conversation of those most famed for it was affected. Quite another view of her is given in a letter of Voiture's written to Mr. Gordon on leaving England in 1623.

"In one human being you let me see more treasures than there are there [the Tower], and even more lions and leopards. It will not be difficult for you to guess after this that I speak of the Countess of Carlisle. For there is nobody else of whom all this good and evil can be said. No matter how dangerous it is to let the memory dwell upon her, I have not, so far, been able to keep mine from it, and, quite honestly, I would not give the picture of111her that lingers in my mind, for all the loveliest things I have seen in my life. I must confess that she is an enchanting personality, and there would not be a woman under heaven so worthy of affection, if she only knew what it was, and if she had as sensitive a nature as she has a reasonable mind. But with the temperament we know she possesses, there is nothing to be said except that she is the most lovable of all things not good, and the most delightful poison that nature ever concocted." Browning himself says he first sketched her character from Mathews, but finding that rather artificial, he used Voiture and Waller, who referred to her as the "bright Carlisle of the Court of Heaven." It should be remembered that she had become a widow and was considerably older at the time of her friendship with Wentworth than when Voiture wrote of her, and was probably better balanced, and truly worthy of Wentworth's own appreciation of her when he wrote, "A nobler nor a more intelligent friendship did I never meet with in my life." A passage in a letter to Laud indicates that Wentworth was well aware of the practical advantage in having such a friend as Lady Carlisle at Court. "I judge her ladyship very considerable. She is often in place, and extremely well skilled how112to speak with advantage and spirit for those friends she professeth unto, which will not be many. There is this further in her disposition, she will not seem to be the person she is not, an ingenuity I have always observed and honoured her for."

It is something of a shock to learn that even before the Wentworth episode was well over, she became a friend of his bitterest foe, Pym. Gardiner sums up her character in as fair a way as any one,—and not at all inconsistent with Browning's portrayal of her.

"Lady Carlisle had now been for many years a widow. She had long been the reigning beauty at Court, and she loved to mingle political intrigue with social intercourse. For politics as a serious occupation she had no aptitude; but, in middle age, she felt a woman's pride in attaching to herself the strong heads by which the world was ruled, as she had attached to herself in youth, the witty courtier or the agile dancer. It was worth a statesman's while to cultivate her acquaintance. She could make him a power in society as well as in Council, could worm out a secret which it behoved him to know, and could convey to others his suggestions with assured fidelity. The calumny which treated Strafford, as it afterwards treated Pym, as her accepted113lover, may be safely disregarded. But there can be no doubt that purely personal motives attached her both to Strafford and Pym. For Strafford's theory of Monarchical government she cared as little as she cared for Pym's theory of Parliamentary government. It may be, too, that some mingled feeling may have arisen in Strafford's breast. It was something to have an ally at Court ready at all times to plead his cause with gay enthusiasm, to warn him of hidden dangers, and to offer him the thread of that labyrinth which, under the name of 'the Queen's side,' was such a mystery to him. It was something, too, no doubt, that this advocate was not a grey haired statesman, but a woman, in spite of growing years, of winning grace and sparkling vivacity of eye and tongue."

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