SORDELLO

Hollis, LadyCarlisle.Hol.Tell the King then! Come in with me!Lady Car.Not so!He must not hear till it succeeds.Hol.Succeed?No dream was half so vain—you 'd rescue StraffordAnd outwit Pym! I cannot tell you ... lady,The block pursues me, and the hideous show.To-day ... is it to-day? And all the whileHe 's sure of the King's pardon. Think, I haveTo tell this man he is to die. The KingMay rend his hair, for me! I 'll not see Strafford.Lady Car.Only, if I succeed, remember—CharlesHas saved him. He would hardly value lifeUnless his gift. My stanch friends wait. Go in—You must go in to Charles!Hol.And all besideLeft Stafford long ago. The King has signedThe warrant for his death! the Queen was sickOf the eternal subject. For the Court,—The Trial was amusing in its way,Only too much of it: the Earl withdrewIn time. But you, fragile, alone, so young,Amid rude mercenaries—you deviseA plan to save him! Even though it fails,What shall reward you!Lady Car.I may go, you think,To France with him? And you reward me, friend,Who lived with Strafford even from his youthBefore he set his heart on state-affairsAnd they bent down that noble brow of his.I have learned somewhat of his latter life,And all the future I shall know: but, Hollis,I ought to make his youth my own as well.Tell me,—when he is saved!Hol.My gentle friend,He should know all and love you, but 't is vain!Lady Car.Love? no—too late now! Let him love the King!'Tis the King's scheme! I have your word, remember!We 'll keep the old delusion up. But, quick!Quick! Each of us has work to do, beside!Go to the King! I hope—Hollis—I hope!Say nothing of my scheme! Hush, while we speakThink where he is! Now for my gallant friends!Hol.Where he is? Calling wildly upon Charles,Guessing his fate, pacing the prison-floor.Let the King tell him! I 'll not look on Strafford.

Hollis, LadyCarlisle.

Hol.Tell the King then! Come in with me!

Lady Car.Not so!He must not hear till it succeeds.

Lady Car.Not so!

He must not hear till it succeeds.

Hol.Succeed?No dream was half so vain—you 'd rescue StraffordAnd outwit Pym! I cannot tell you ... lady,The block pursues me, and the hideous show.To-day ... is it to-day? And all the whileHe 's sure of the King's pardon. Think, I haveTo tell this man he is to die. The KingMay rend his hair, for me! I 'll not see Strafford.

Hol.Succeed?

No dream was half so vain—you 'd rescue Strafford

And outwit Pym! I cannot tell you ... lady,

The block pursues me, and the hideous show.

To-day ... is it to-day? And all the while

He 's sure of the King's pardon. Think, I have

To tell this man he is to die. The King

May rend his hair, for me! I 'll not see Strafford.

Lady Car.Only, if I succeed, remember—CharlesHas saved him. He would hardly value lifeUnless his gift. My stanch friends wait. Go in—You must go in to Charles!

Lady Car.Only, if I succeed, remember—Charles

Has saved him. He would hardly value life

Unless his gift. My stanch friends wait. Go in—

You must go in to Charles!

Hol.And all besideLeft Stafford long ago. The King has signedThe warrant for his death! the Queen was sickOf the eternal subject. For the Court,—The Trial was amusing in its way,Only too much of it: the Earl withdrewIn time. But you, fragile, alone, so young,Amid rude mercenaries—you deviseA plan to save him! Even though it fails,What shall reward you!

Hol.And all beside

Left Stafford long ago. The King has signed

The warrant for his death! the Queen was sick

Of the eternal subject. For the Court,—

The Trial was amusing in its way,

Only too much of it: the Earl withdrew

In time. But you, fragile, alone, so young,

Amid rude mercenaries—you devise

A plan to save him! Even though it fails,

What shall reward you!

Lady Car.I may go, you think,To France with him? And you reward me, friend,Who lived with Strafford even from his youthBefore he set his heart on state-affairsAnd they bent down that noble brow of his.I have learned somewhat of his latter life,And all the future I shall know: but, Hollis,I ought to make his youth my own as well.Tell me,—when he is saved!

Lady Car.I may go, you think,

To France with him? And you reward me, friend,

Who lived with Strafford even from his youth

Before he set his heart on state-affairs

And they bent down that noble brow of his.

I have learned somewhat of his latter life,

And all the future I shall know: but, Hollis,

I ought to make his youth my own as well.

Tell me,—when he is saved!

Hol.My gentle friend,He should know all and love you, but 't is vain!

Hol.My gentle friend,

He should know all and love you, but 't is vain!

Lady Car.Love? no—too late now! Let him love the King!'Tis the King's scheme! I have your word, remember!We 'll keep the old delusion up. But, quick!Quick! Each of us has work to do, beside!Go to the King! I hope—Hollis—I hope!Say nothing of my scheme! Hush, while we speakThink where he is! Now for my gallant friends!

Lady Car.Love? no—too late now! Let him love the King!

'Tis the King's scheme! I have your word, remember!

We 'll keep the old delusion up. But, quick!

Quick! Each of us has work to do, beside!

Go to the King! I hope—Hollis—I hope!

Say nothing of my scheme! Hush, while we speak

Think where he is! Now for my gallant friends!

Hol.Where he is? Calling wildly upon Charles,Guessing his fate, pacing the prison-floor.Let the King tell him! I 'll not look on Strafford.

Hol.Where he is? Calling wildly upon Charles,

Guessing his fate, pacing the prison-floor.

Let the King tell him! I 'll not look on Strafford.

Scene II.The Tower.

Straffordsitting with hisChildren.They sing.O bell' andarePer barca in mare,Verso la seraDi Primavera!

Straffordsitting with hisChildren.They sing.

O bell' andarePer barca in mare,Verso la seraDi Primavera!

O bell' andare

Per barca in mare,

Verso la sera

Di Primavera!

Music

[See larger image]

[Listen]

William.The boat 's in the broad moonlight all this while—Verso la seraDi Primavera!And the boat shoots from underneath the moonInto the shadowy distance; only stillYou hear the dipping oar—Verso la sera,And faint, and fainter, and then all 's quite gone,Music and light and all, like a lost star.Anne.But you should sleep, father: you were to sleep.Straf.I do sleep, Anne; or if not—you must knowThere 's such a thing as ...Wil.You 're too tired to sleep?Straf.It will come by-and-by and all day long,In that old quiet house I told you of:We sleep safe there.Anne.Why not in Ireland?Straf.No!Too many dreams!—That song 's for Venice, William:You know how Venice looks upon the map—Isles that the mainland hardly can let go?Wil.You 've been to Venice, father?Straf.I was young, then.Wil.A city with no King; that 's why I likeEven a song that comes from Venice.Straf.William?Wil.Oh, I know why! Anne, do you love the King?But I 'll see Venice for myself one day.Straf.See many lands, boy—England last of all,—That way you 'll love her best.Wil.Why do men sayYou sought to ruin her, then?Straf.Ah,—they say that.Wil.Why?Straf.I suppose they must have words to say,As you to sing.Anne.But they make songs beside:Last night I heard one, in the street beneath,That called you ... Oh, the names!Wil.Don't mind her, father!They soon left off when I cried out to them.Straf.We shall so soon be out of it, my boy!'T is not worth while: who heeds a foolish song?Wil.Why, not the King.Straf.Well: it has been the fateOf better; and yet,—wherefore not feel sureThat Time, who in the twilight comes to mendAll the fantastic day's caprice, consignTo the low ground once more the ignoble Term,And raise the Genius on his orb again,—That Time will do me right?Anne.(Shall we sing, William?He does not look thus when we sing.)Straf.For Ireland,Something is done: too little, but enoughTo show what might have been.Wil.(I have no heartTo sing now! Anne, how very sad he looks!Oh, I so hate the King for all he says!)Straf.Forsook them? What, the common songs will runThat I forsook the People? Nothing more?Ay, Fame, the busy scribe, will pause, no doubt,Turning a deaf ear to her thousand slavesNoisy to be enrolled,—will registerThe curious glosses, subtle notices,Ingenious clearings-up one fain would seeBeside that plain inscription of The Name—The Patriot Pym, or the Apostate Strafford![TheChildrenresume their song timidly, but break off.(EnterHollisand anAttendant.)Straf.No,—Hollis? in good time!—Who is he?Hol.OneThat must be present.Straf.Ah—I understand.They will not let me see poor Laud alone.How politic! They 'd use me by degreesTo solitude: and, just as you came in,I was solicitous what life to leadWhen Strafford 's "not so much as ConstableIn the King's service." Is there any meansTo keep one's self awake? What would you doAfter this bustle, Hollis, in my place?Hol.Strafford!Straf.Observe, not but that Pym and youWill find me news enough—news I shall hearUnder a quince-tree by a fish-pond sideAt Wentworth. Garrard must be re-engagedMy newsman. Or, a better project now—What if when all 's consummated, and the SaintsReign, and the Senate's work goes swimingly,—What if I venture up, some day, unseen,To saunter through the Town, notice how Pym,Your Tribune, likes Whitehall, drop quietlyInto a tavern, hear a point discussed,As, whether Strafford's name were John or James—And be myself appealed to—I, who shallMyself have near forgotten!Hol.I would speak ...Straf.Then you shall speak,—not now. I want just now,To hear the sound of my own tongue. This placeIs full of ghosts.Hol.Nay, you must hear me, Strafford!Straf.Oh, readily! Only, one rare thing more,—The minister! Who will advise the King,Turn his Sejanus, Richelieu and what not,And yet have health—children, for aught I know—My patient pair of traitors! Ah,—but, William—Does not his cheek grow thin?Wil.'T is you look thin, Father!Straf.A scamper o'er the breezy woldsSets all to-rights.Hol.You cannot sure forgetA prison-roof is o'er you, Strafford?Straf.No,Why, no. I would not touch on that, the first.I left you that. Well, Hollis? Say at once,The King can find no time to set me free!A mask at Theobald's?Hol.Hold: no such affairDetains him.Straf.True: what needs so great a matter?The Queen's lip may be sore. Well: when he pleases,—Only, I want the air: it vexes fleshTo be pent up so long.Hol.The King—I bearHis message, Strafford: pray you, let me speak!Straf.Go, William! Anne, try o'er your song again![TheChildrenretire.They shall be loyal, friend, at all events.I know your message: you have nothing newTo tell me: from the first I guessed as much.I know, instead of coming here himself,Leading me forth in public by the hand,The King prefers to leave the door ajarAs though I were escaping—bids me trudgeWhile the mob gapes upon some show preparedOn the other side of the river! Give at onceHis order of release! I 've heard, as well,Of certain poor manœuvres to avoidThe granting pardon at his proper risk;First, he must prattle somewhat to the Lords,Must talk a trifle with the Commons first,Be grieved I should abuse his confidence,And far from blaming them, and ... Where 's the order?Hol.Spare me!Straf.Why, he 'd not have me steal away?With an old doublet and a steeple hatLike Prynne's? Be smuggled into France, perhaps?Hollis, 't is for my children! 'T was for themI first consented to stand day by dayAnd give your Puritans the best of words,Be patient, speak when called upon, observeTheir rules, and not return them prompt their lie!What 's in that boy of mine that he should proveSon to a prison-breaker? I shall stayAnd he 'll stay with me. Charles should know as much,He too has children![Turning toHollis'scompanion.]Sir, you feel for me!No need to hide that face! Though it have lookedUpon me from the judgment-seat ... I knowStrangely, that somewhere it has looked on me ...Your coming has my pardon, nay, my thanks:For there is one who comes not.Hol.Whom forgive,As one to die!Straf.True, all die, and all needForgiveness: I forgive him from my soul.Hol.'T is a world's wonder: Strafford, you must die!Straf.Sir, if your errand is to set me freeThis heartless jest mars much. Ha! Tears in truth?We 'll end this! See this paper, warm—feel—warmWith lying next my heart! Whose hand is there?Whose promise? Read, and loud for God to hear!"Strafford shall take no hurt"—read it, I say!"In person, honor, nor estate"—Hol.The King ...Straf.I could unking him by a breath! You sitWhere Loudon sat, who came to prophesyThe certain end, and offer me Pym's graceIf I 'd renounce the King: and I stood firmOn the King's faith. The King who lives ...Hol.To signThe warrant for your death.Straf."Put not your trustIn princes, neither in the sons of men,In whom is no salvation!"Hol.Trust in God!The scaffold is prepared: they wait for you:He has consented. Cast the earth behind!Cha.You would not see me, Strafford, at your foot!It was wrung from me! Only, curse me not!Hol.[ToStrafford.]As you hope grace and pardon in your need,Be merciful to this most wretched man.[Voices from within.Verso la seraDi Primavera.Straf.You 'll be good to those children, sir? I knowYou 'll not believe her, even should the QueenThink they take after one they rarely saw.I had intended that my son should liveA stranger to these matters: but you areSo utterly deprived of friends! He tooMust serve you—will you not be good to him?Or, stay, sir, do not promise—do not swear!You, Hollis—do the best you can for me!I 've not a soul to trust to: Wandesford 's dead,And you 've got Radcliffe safe, Laud's turn comes next:I 've found small time of late for my affairs,But I trust any of you, Pym himself—No one could hurt them: there 's an infant, too,—These tedious cares! Your Majesty could spare them.Nay—pardon me, my King! I had forgottenYour education, trials, much temptation,Some weakness: there escaped a peevish word—'T is gone: I bless you at the last. You knowAll 's between you and me: what has the worldTo do with it? Farewell!Cha.[at the door.]Balfour! Balfour!(EnterBalfour.)The Parliament!—go to them: I grant allDemands. Their sittings shall be permanent:Tell them to keep their money if they will:I 'll come to them for every coat I wearAnd every crust I eat: only I chooseTo pardon Strafford. As the Queen shall choose!—You never heard the People howl for blood,Beside!Balfour.Your Majesty may hear them now:The walls can hardly keep their murmurs out:Please you retire!Cha.Take all the troops, Balfour!Bal.There are some hundred thousand of the crowd.Cha.Come with me, Strafford! You 'll not fear, at least!Straf.Balfour, say nothing to the world of this!I charge you, as a dying man, forgetYou gazed upon this agony of one ...Of one ... or if ... why, you may say, Balfour,The King was sorry: 'tis no shame in him:Yes, you may say he even wept, Balfour,And that I walked the lighter to the blockBecause of it. I shall walk lightly, sir!Earth fades, heaven breaks on me: I shall stand nextBefore God's throne: the moment 's close at handWhen man the first, last time, has leave to layHis whole heart bare before its Maker, leaveTo clear up the long error of a lifeAnd choose one happiness for evermore.With all mortality about me, Charles,The sudden wreck, the dregs of violent death—What if, despite the opening angel-song,There penetrate one prayer for you? Be savedThrough me! Bear witness, no one could preventMy death! Lead on! ere he awake—best, now!All must be ready: did you say, Balfour,The crowd began to murmur? They 'll be keptToo late for sermon at St. Antholin's!Now! But tread softly—children are at playIn the next room. Precede! I follow—(EnterLadyCarlisle,with manyAttendants.)Lady CarMe!Follow me, Strafford, and be saved! The King?[To theKing.]Well—as you ordered, they are ranged without,The convoy ...[seeing theKing'sstate.][ToStrafford.]You know all, then! Why, I thoughtIt looked best that the King should save you,—CharlesAlone; 't is a shame that you should owe me aught.Or no, not shame! Strafford, you 'll not feel shameAt being saved by me?Hol.All true! Oh Strafford,She saves you! all her deed! this lady's deed!And is the boat in readiness? You, friend,Are Billingsley, no doubt. Speak to her, Strafford!See how she trembles, waiting for your voice!The world 's to learn its bravest story yet.Lady Car.Talk afterward! Long nights in France enough,To sit beneath the vines and talk of home.Straf.You love me, child? Ah, Strafford can be lovedAs well as Vane! I could escape, then?Lady Car.Haste!Advance the torches, Bryan!Straf.I will die.They call me proud: but England had no right,When she encountered me—her strength to mine—To find the chosen foe a craven. Girl,I fought her to the utterance, I fell,I am hers now, and I will die. Beside,The lookers-on! Eliot is all aboutThis place, with his most uncomplaining brow.Lady Car.Strafford!Straf.I think if you could know how muchI love you, you would be repaid, my friend!Lady Car.Then, for my sake!Straf.Even for your sweet sake, I stay.Hol.Fortheirsake!Straf.To bequeath a stain?Leave me! Girl, humor me and let me die!Lady Car.Bid him escape—wake, King! Bid him escape!Straf.True, I will go! Die and forsake the King?I 'll not draw back from the last service.Lady Car.Strafford!Straf.And, after all, what is disgrace to me?Let us come, child! That it should end this way!Lead then! but I feel strangely: it was notTo end this way.Lady Car.Lean—lean on me!Straf.My King!Oh, had he trusted me—his friend of friends!Lady Car.I can support him, Hollis!Straf.Not this way!This gate—I dreamed of it, this very gate.Lady Car.It opens on the river: our good boatIs moored below, our friends are there.Straf.The same:Only with something ominous and dark,Fatal, inevitable.Lady Car.Strafford! Strafford!Straf.Not by this gate! I feel what will be there!I dreamed of it, I tell you: touch it not!Lady Car.To save the King,—Strafford, to save the King![AsStraffordopens the door,Pymis discovered withHampden,Vane,etc.Straffordfalls back:Pymfollows slowly and confronts him.Pym.Have I done well? Speak, England! Whose sole sakeI still have labored for, with disregardTo my own heart,—for whom my youth was madeBarren, my manhood waste, to offer upHer 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 sheWould sanctify all means) even to the blockWhich waits for him. And saying this, I feelNo bitterer pang than first I felt, the hourI swore that Wentworth might leave us, but IWould never leave him: I do leave him now.I render up my charge (be witness, God!)To England who imposed it. I have doneHer 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 sayI never loved but one man—David notMore Jonathan! Even thus, I love him nowAnd look for my chief portion in that worldWhere 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 allI look for there; but in my inmost heart,Believe, I think of stealing quite awayTo walk once more with Wentworth—my youth's friendPurged from all error, gloriously renewed,And Eliot shall not blame us. Then indeed ...This is no meeting, Wentworth! Tears increaseToo hot. A thin mist—is it blood?—enwrapsThe 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 timeTo think and to decide on a great course:Manhood with action follows; but 'tis drearyTo 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 tooDies, smothered up. Poor gray old little LaudMay 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 ... Oh, my fate is nothing—Nothing! But not that awful head—not that!Pym. If England shall declare such will to me ...Straf.Pym, you help England! I, that am to die,What I must see! 'tis here—all here! My God,Let me but gasp out, in one word of fire,How thou wilt plague him, satiating hell!What? England that you help, become through youA green and putrefying charnel, leftOur children ... some of us have children, Pym—Some who, without that, still must ever wearA darkened brow, an over-serious look,And never properly be young! No word?What if I curse you? Send a strong curse forthClothed from my heart, lapped round with horror tillShe 's fit with her white face to walk the worldScaring kind natures from your cause and you—Then to sit down with you at the board-head,The gathering for prayer ... O speak, but speak!... Creep up, and quietly follow each one home,You, you, you, be a nestling care for eachTo sleep with,—hardly moaning in his dreams,She gnaws so quietly,—till, lo he starts,Gets off with half a heart eaten away!Oh, shall you 'scape with less if she 's my child?You will not say a word—to me—to Him?Pym.If England shall declare such will to me ...Straf.No, not for England now, not for Heaven now,—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,—I am thine own! Dost thou exactThat service? I obey thee to the end.Straf.O God, I shall die first—I shall die first!

William.The boat 's in the broad moonlight all this while—

Verso la seraDi Primavera!

Verso la sera

Di Primavera!

And the boat shoots from underneath the moonInto the shadowy distance; only stillYou hear the dipping oar—

And the boat shoots from underneath the moon

Into the shadowy distance; only still

You hear the dipping oar—

Verso la sera,

And faint, and fainter, and then all 's quite gone,Music and light and all, like a lost star.

And faint, and fainter, and then all 's quite gone,

Music and light and all, like a lost star.

Anne.But you should sleep, father: you were to sleep.

Straf.I do sleep, Anne; or if not—you must knowThere 's such a thing as ...

Straf.I do sleep, Anne; or if not—you must know

There 's such a thing as ...

Wil.You 're too tired to sleep?

Straf.It will come by-and-by and all day long,In that old quiet house I told you of:We sleep safe there.

Straf.It will come by-and-by and all day long,

In that old quiet house I told you of:

We sleep safe there.

Anne.Why not in Ireland?

Straf.No!Too many dreams!—That song 's for Venice, William:You know how Venice looks upon the map—Isles that the mainland hardly can let go?

Straf.No!

Too many dreams!—That song 's for Venice, William:

You know how Venice looks upon the map—

Isles that the mainland hardly can let go?

Wil.You 've been to Venice, father?

Straf.I was young, then.

Wil.A city with no King; that 's why I likeEven a song that comes from Venice.

Wil.A city with no King; that 's why I like

Even a song that comes from Venice.

Straf.William?

Wil.Oh, I know why! Anne, do you love the King?But I 'll see Venice for myself one day.

Wil.Oh, I know why! Anne, do you love the King?

But I 'll see Venice for myself one day.

Straf.See many lands, boy—England last of all,—That way you 'll love her best.

Straf.See many lands, boy—England last of all,—

That way you 'll love her best.

Wil.Why do men sayYou sought to ruin her, then?

Wil.Why do men say

You sought to ruin her, then?

Straf.Ah,—they say that.

Wil.Why?

Straf.I suppose they must have words to say,As you to sing.

Straf.I suppose they must have words to say,

As you to sing.

Anne.But they make songs beside:Last night I heard one, in the street beneath,That called you ... Oh, the names!

Anne.But they make songs beside:

Last night I heard one, in the street beneath,

That called you ... Oh, the names!

Wil.Don't mind her, father!They soon left off when I cried out to them.

Wil.Don't mind her, father!

They soon left off when I cried out to them.

Straf.We shall so soon be out of it, my boy!'T is not worth while: who heeds a foolish song?

Straf.We shall so soon be out of it, my boy!

'T is not worth while: who heeds a foolish song?

Wil.Why, not the King.

Straf.Well: it has been the fateOf better; and yet,—wherefore not feel sureThat Time, who in the twilight comes to mendAll the fantastic day's caprice, consignTo the low ground once more the ignoble Term,And raise the Genius on his orb again,—That Time will do me right?

Straf.Well: it has been the fate

Of better; and yet,—wherefore not feel sure

That Time, who in the twilight comes to mend

All the fantastic day's caprice, consign

To the low ground once more the ignoble Term,

And raise the Genius on his orb again,—

That Time will do me right?

Anne.(Shall we sing, William?He does not look thus when we sing.)

Anne.(Shall we sing, William?

He does not look thus when we sing.)

Straf.For Ireland,Something is done: too little, but enoughTo show what might have been.

Straf.For Ireland,

Something is done: too little, but enough

To show what might have been.

Wil.(I have no heartTo sing now! Anne, how very sad he looks!Oh, I so hate the King for all he says!)

Wil.(I have no heart

To sing now! Anne, how very sad he looks!

Oh, I so hate the King for all he says!)

Straf.Forsook them? What, the common songs will runThat I forsook the People? Nothing more?Ay, Fame, the busy scribe, will pause, no doubt,Turning a deaf ear to her thousand slavesNoisy to be enrolled,—will registerThe curious glosses, subtle notices,Ingenious clearings-up one fain would seeBeside that plain inscription of The Name—The Patriot Pym, or the Apostate Strafford![TheChildrenresume their song timidly, but break off.

Straf.Forsook them? What, the common songs will run

That I forsook the People? Nothing more?

Ay, Fame, the busy scribe, will pause, no doubt,

Turning a deaf ear to her thousand slaves

Noisy to be enrolled,—will register

The curious glosses, subtle notices,

Ingenious clearings-up one fain would see

Beside that plain inscription of The Name—

The Patriot Pym, or the Apostate Strafford!

[TheChildrenresume their song timidly, but break off.

(EnterHollisand anAttendant.)

Straf.No,—Hollis? in good time!—Who is he?

Hol.OneThat must be present.

Hol.One

That must be present.

Straf.Ah—I understand.They will not let me see poor Laud alone.How politic! They 'd use me by degreesTo solitude: and, just as you came in,I was solicitous what life to leadWhen Strafford 's "not so much as ConstableIn the King's service." Is there any meansTo keep one's self awake? What would you doAfter this bustle, Hollis, in my place?

Straf.Ah—I understand.

They will not let me see poor Laud alone.

How politic! They 'd use me by degrees

To solitude: and, just as you came in,

I was solicitous what life to lead

When Strafford 's "not so much as Constable

In the King's service." Is there any means

To keep one's self awake? What would you do

After this bustle, Hollis, in my place?

Hol.Strafford!

Straf.Observe, not but that Pym and youWill find me news enough—news I shall hearUnder a quince-tree by a fish-pond sideAt Wentworth. Garrard must be re-engagedMy newsman. Or, a better project now—What if when all 's consummated, and the SaintsReign, and the Senate's work goes swimingly,—What if I venture up, some day, unseen,To saunter through the Town, notice how Pym,Your Tribune, likes Whitehall, drop quietlyInto a tavern, hear a point discussed,As, whether Strafford's name were John or James—And be myself appealed to—I, who shallMyself have near forgotten!

Straf.Observe, not but that Pym and you

Will find me news enough—news I shall hear

Under a quince-tree by a fish-pond side

At Wentworth. Garrard must be re-engaged

My newsman. Or, a better project now—

What if when all 's consummated, and the Saints

Reign, and the Senate's work goes swimingly,—

What if I venture up, some day, unseen,

To saunter through the Town, notice how Pym,

Your Tribune, likes Whitehall, drop quietly

Into a tavern, hear a point discussed,

As, whether Strafford's name were John or James—

And be myself appealed to—I, who shall

Myself have near forgotten!

Hol.I would speak ...

Straf.Then you shall speak,—not now. I want just now,To hear the sound of my own tongue. This placeIs full of ghosts.

Straf.Then you shall speak,—not now. I want just now,

To hear the sound of my own tongue. This place

Is full of ghosts.

Hol.Nay, you must hear me, Strafford!

Straf.Oh, readily! Only, one rare thing more,—The minister! Who will advise the King,Turn his Sejanus, Richelieu and what not,And yet have health—children, for aught I know—My patient pair of traitors! Ah,—but, William—Does not his cheek grow thin?

Straf.Oh, readily! Only, one rare thing more,—

The minister! Who will advise the King,

Turn his Sejanus, Richelieu and what not,

And yet have health—children, for aught I know—

My patient pair of traitors! Ah,—but, William—

Does not his cheek grow thin?

Wil.'T is you look thin, Father!

Straf.A scamper o'er the breezy woldsSets all to-rights.

Straf.A scamper o'er the breezy wolds

Sets all to-rights.

Hol.You cannot sure forgetA prison-roof is o'er you, Strafford?

Hol.You cannot sure forget

A prison-roof is o'er you, Strafford?

Straf.No,Why, no. I would not touch on that, the first.I left you that. Well, Hollis? Say at once,The King can find no time to set me free!A mask at Theobald's?

Straf.No,

Why, no. I would not touch on that, the first.

I left you that. Well, Hollis? Say at once,

The King can find no time to set me free!

A mask at Theobald's?

Hol.Hold: no such affairDetains him.

Hol.Hold: no such affair

Detains him.

Straf.True: what needs so great a matter?The Queen's lip may be sore. Well: when he pleases,—Only, I want the air: it vexes fleshTo be pent up so long.

Straf.True: what needs so great a matter?

The Queen's lip may be sore. Well: when he pleases,—

Only, I want the air: it vexes flesh

To be pent up so long.

Hol.The King—I bearHis message, Strafford: pray you, let me speak!

Hol.The King—I bear

His message, Strafford: pray you, let me speak!

Straf.Go, William! Anne, try o'er your song again![TheChildrenretire.They shall be loyal, friend, at all events.I know your message: you have nothing newTo tell me: from the first I guessed as much.I know, instead of coming here himself,Leading me forth in public by the hand,The King prefers to leave the door ajarAs though I were escaping—bids me trudgeWhile the mob gapes upon some show preparedOn the other side of the river! Give at onceHis order of release! I 've heard, as well,Of certain poor manœuvres to avoidThe granting pardon at his proper risk;First, he must prattle somewhat to the Lords,Must talk a trifle with the Commons first,Be grieved I should abuse his confidence,And far from blaming them, and ... Where 's the order?

Straf.Go, William! Anne, try o'er your song again!

[TheChildrenretire.

They shall be loyal, friend, at all events.

I know your message: you have nothing new

To tell me: from the first I guessed as much.

I know, instead of coming here himself,

Leading me forth in public by the hand,

The King prefers to leave the door ajar

As though I were escaping—bids me trudge

While the mob gapes upon some show prepared

On the other side of the river! Give at once

His order of release! I 've heard, as well,

Of certain poor manœuvres to avoid

The granting pardon at his proper risk;

First, he must prattle somewhat to the Lords,

Must talk a trifle with the Commons first,

Be grieved I should abuse his confidence,

And far from blaming them, and ... Where 's the order?

Hol.Spare me!

Straf.Why, he 'd not have me steal away?With an old doublet and a steeple hatLike Prynne's? Be smuggled into France, perhaps?Hollis, 't is for my children! 'T was for themI first consented to stand day by dayAnd give your Puritans the best of words,Be patient, speak when called upon, observeTheir rules, and not return them prompt their lie!What 's in that boy of mine that he should proveSon to a prison-breaker? I shall stayAnd he 'll stay with me. Charles should know as much,He too has children![Turning toHollis'scompanion.]Sir, you feel for me!No need to hide that face! Though it have lookedUpon me from the judgment-seat ... I knowStrangely, that somewhere it has looked on me ...Your coming has my pardon, nay, my thanks:For there is one who comes not.

Straf.Why, he 'd not have me steal away?

With an old doublet and a steeple hat

Like Prynne's? Be smuggled into France, perhaps?

Hollis, 't is for my children! 'T was for them

I first consented to stand day by day

And give your Puritans the best of words,

Be patient, speak when called upon, observe

Their rules, and not return them prompt their lie!

What 's in that boy of mine that he should prove

Son to a prison-breaker? I shall stay

And he 'll stay with me. Charles should know as much,

He too has children!

[Turning toHollis'scompanion.]Sir, you feel for me!

No need to hide that face! Though it have looked

Upon me from the judgment-seat ... I know

Strangely, that somewhere it has looked on me ...

Your coming has my pardon, nay, my thanks:

For there is one who comes not.

Hol.Whom forgive,As one to die!

Hol.Whom forgive,

As one to die!

Straf.True, all die, and all needForgiveness: I forgive him from my soul.

Straf.True, all die, and all need

Forgiveness: I forgive him from my soul.

Hol.'T is a world's wonder: Strafford, you must die!

Straf.Sir, if your errand is to set me freeThis heartless jest mars much. Ha! Tears in truth?We 'll end this! See this paper, warm—feel—warmWith lying next my heart! Whose hand is there?Whose promise? Read, and loud for God to hear!"Strafford shall take no hurt"—read it, I say!"In person, honor, nor estate"—

Straf.Sir, if your errand is to set me free

This heartless jest mars much. Ha! Tears in truth?

We 'll end this! See this paper, warm—feel—warm

With lying next my heart! Whose hand is there?

Whose promise? Read, and loud for God to hear!

"Strafford shall take no hurt"—read it, I say!

"In person, honor, nor estate"—

Hol.The King ...

Straf.I could unking him by a breath! You sitWhere Loudon sat, who came to prophesyThe certain end, and offer me Pym's graceIf I 'd renounce the King: and I stood firmOn the King's faith. The King who lives ...

Straf.I could unking him by a breath! You sit

Where Loudon sat, who came to prophesy

The certain end, and offer me Pym's grace

If I 'd renounce the King: and I stood firm

On the King's faith. The King who lives ...

Hol.To signThe warrant for your death.

Hol.To sign

The warrant for your death.

Straf."Put not your trustIn princes, neither in the sons of men,In whom is no salvation!"

Straf."Put not your trust

In princes, neither in the sons of men,

In whom is no salvation!"

Hol.Trust in God!The scaffold is prepared: they wait for you:He has consented. Cast the earth behind!

Hol.Trust in God!

The scaffold is prepared: they wait for you:

He has consented. Cast the earth behind!

Cha.You would not see me, Strafford, at your foot!It was wrung from me! Only, curse me not!

Cha.You would not see me, Strafford, at your foot!

It was wrung from me! Only, curse me not!

Hol.[ToStrafford.]As you hope grace and pardon in your need,Be merciful to this most wretched man.[Voices from within.

Hol.[ToStrafford.]As you hope grace and pardon in your need,

Be merciful to this most wretched man.[Voices from within.

Verso la seraDi Primavera.

Verso la sera

Di Primavera.

Straf.You 'll be good to those children, sir? I knowYou 'll not believe her, even should the QueenThink they take after one they rarely saw.I had intended that my son should liveA stranger to these matters: but you areSo utterly deprived of friends! He tooMust serve you—will you not be good to him?Or, stay, sir, do not promise—do not swear!You, Hollis—do the best you can for me!I 've not a soul to trust to: Wandesford 's dead,And you 've got Radcliffe safe, Laud's turn comes next:I 've found small time of late for my affairs,But I trust any of you, Pym himself—No one could hurt them: there 's an infant, too,—These tedious cares! Your Majesty could spare them.Nay—pardon me, my King! I had forgottenYour education, trials, much temptation,Some weakness: there escaped a peevish word—'T is gone: I bless you at the last. You knowAll 's between you and me: what has the worldTo do with it? Farewell!

Straf.You 'll be good to those children, sir? I know

You 'll not believe her, even should the Queen

Think they take after one they rarely saw.

I had intended that my son should live

A stranger to these matters: but you are

So utterly deprived of friends! He too

Must serve you—will you not be good to him?

Or, stay, sir, do not promise—do not swear!

You, Hollis—do the best you can for me!

I 've not a soul to trust to: Wandesford 's dead,

And you 've got Radcliffe safe, Laud's turn comes next:

I 've found small time of late for my affairs,

But I trust any of you, Pym himself—

No one could hurt them: there 's an infant, too,—

These tedious cares! Your Majesty could spare them.

Nay—pardon me, my King! I had forgotten

Your education, trials, much temptation,

Some weakness: there escaped a peevish word—

'T is gone: I bless you at the last. You know

All 's between you and me: what has the world

To do with it? Farewell!

Cha.[at the door.]Balfour! Balfour!

(EnterBalfour.)

The Parliament!—go to them: I grant allDemands. Their sittings shall be permanent:Tell them to keep their money if they will:I 'll come to them for every coat I wearAnd every crust I eat: only I chooseTo pardon Strafford. As the Queen shall choose!—You never heard the People howl for blood,Beside!

The Parliament!—go to them: I grant all

Demands. Their sittings shall be permanent:

Tell them to keep their money if they will:

I 'll come to them for every coat I wear

And every crust I eat: only I choose

To pardon Strafford. As the Queen shall choose!

—You never heard the People howl for blood,

Beside!

Balfour.Your Majesty may hear them now:The walls can hardly keep their murmurs out:Please you retire!

Balfour.Your Majesty may hear them now:

The walls can hardly keep their murmurs out:

Please you retire!

Cha.Take all the troops, Balfour!

Bal.There are some hundred thousand of the crowd.

Cha.Come with me, Strafford! You 'll not fear, at least!

Straf.Balfour, say nothing to the world of this!I charge you, as a dying man, forgetYou gazed upon this agony of one ...Of one ... or if ... why, you may say, Balfour,The King was sorry: 'tis no shame in him:Yes, you may say he even wept, Balfour,And that I walked the lighter to the blockBecause of it. I shall walk lightly, sir!Earth fades, heaven breaks on me: I shall stand nextBefore God's throne: the moment 's close at handWhen man the first, last time, has leave to layHis whole heart bare before its Maker, leaveTo clear up the long error of a lifeAnd choose one happiness for evermore.With all mortality about me, Charles,The sudden wreck, the dregs of violent death—What if, despite the opening angel-song,There penetrate one prayer for you? Be savedThrough me! Bear witness, no one could preventMy death! Lead on! ere he awake—best, now!All must be ready: did you say, Balfour,The crowd began to murmur? They 'll be keptToo late for sermon at St. Antholin's!Now! But tread softly—children are at playIn the next room. Precede! I follow—

Straf.Balfour, say nothing to the world of this!

I charge you, as a dying man, forget

You gazed upon this agony of one ...

Of one ... or if ... why, you may say, Balfour,

The King was sorry: 'tis no shame in him:

Yes, you may say he even wept, Balfour,

And that I walked the lighter to the block

Because of it. I shall walk lightly, sir!

Earth fades, heaven breaks on me: I shall stand next

Before God's throne: the moment 's close at hand

When man the first, last time, has leave to lay

His whole heart bare before its Maker, leave

To clear up the long error of a life

And choose one happiness for evermore.

With all mortality about me, Charles,

The sudden wreck, the dregs of violent death—

What if, despite the opening angel-song,

There penetrate one prayer for you? Be saved

Through me! Bear witness, no one could prevent

My death! Lead on! ere he awake—best, now!

All must be ready: did you say, Balfour,

The crowd began to murmur? They 'll be kept

Too late for sermon at St. Antholin's!

Now! But tread softly—children are at play

In the next room. Precede! I follow—

(EnterLadyCarlisle,with manyAttendants.)

Lady CarMe!Follow me, Strafford, and be saved! The King?[To theKing.]Well—as you ordered, they are ranged without,The convoy ...[seeing theKing'sstate.][ToStrafford.]You know all, then! Why, I thoughtIt looked best that the King should save you,—CharlesAlone; 't is a shame that you should owe me aught.Or no, not shame! Strafford, you 'll not feel shameAt being saved by me?

Lady CarMe!

Follow me, Strafford, and be saved! The King?

[To theKing.]Well—as you ordered, they are ranged without,

The convoy ...[seeing theKing'sstate.]

[ToStrafford.]You know all, then! Why, I thought

It looked best that the King should save you,—Charles

Alone; 't is a shame that you should owe me aught.

Or no, not shame! Strafford, you 'll not feel shame

At being saved by me?

Hol.All true! Oh Strafford,She saves you! all her deed! this lady's deed!And is the boat in readiness? You, friend,Are Billingsley, no doubt. Speak to her, Strafford!See how she trembles, waiting for your voice!The world 's to learn its bravest story yet.

Hol.All true! Oh Strafford,

She saves you! all her deed! this lady's deed!

And is the boat in readiness? You, friend,

Are Billingsley, no doubt. Speak to her, Strafford!

See how she trembles, waiting for your voice!

The world 's to learn its bravest story yet.

Lady Car.Talk afterward! Long nights in France enough,To sit beneath the vines and talk of home.

Lady Car.Talk afterward! Long nights in France enough,

To sit beneath the vines and talk of home.

Straf.You love me, child? Ah, Strafford can be lovedAs well as Vane! I could escape, then?

Straf.You love me, child? Ah, Strafford can be loved

As well as Vane! I could escape, then?

Lady Car.Haste!Advance the torches, Bryan!

Lady Car.Haste!

Advance the torches, Bryan!

Straf.I will die.They call me proud: but England had no right,When she encountered me—her strength to mine—To find the chosen foe a craven. Girl,I fought her to the utterance, I fell,I am hers now, and I will die. Beside,The lookers-on! Eliot is all aboutThis place, with his most uncomplaining brow.

Straf.I will die.

They call me proud: but England had no right,

When she encountered me—her strength to mine—

To find the chosen foe a craven. Girl,

I fought her to the utterance, I fell,

I am hers now, and I will die. Beside,

The lookers-on! Eliot is all about

This place, with his most uncomplaining brow.

Lady Car.Strafford!

Straf.I think if you could know how muchI love you, you would be repaid, my friend!

Straf.I think if you could know how much

I love you, you would be repaid, my friend!

Lady Car.Then, for my sake!

Straf.Even for your sweet sake, I stay.

Hol.Fortheirsake!

Straf.To bequeath a stain?Leave me! Girl, humor me and let me die!

Straf.To bequeath a stain?

Leave me! Girl, humor me and let me die!

Lady Car.Bid him escape—wake, King! Bid him escape!

Straf.True, I will go! Die and forsake the King?I 'll not draw back from the last service.

Straf.True, I will go! Die and forsake the King?

I 'll not draw back from the last service.

Lady Car.Strafford!

Straf.And, after all, what is disgrace to me?Let us come, child! That it should end this way!

Straf.And, after all, what is disgrace to me?

Let us come, child! That it should end this way!

Lead then! but I feel strangely: it was notTo end this way.

Lead then! but I feel strangely: it was not

To end this way.

Lady Car.Lean—lean on me!

Straf.My King!Oh, had he trusted me—his friend of friends!

Straf.My King!

Oh, had he trusted me—his friend of friends!

Lady Car.I can support him, Hollis!

Straf.Not this way!This gate—I dreamed of it, this very gate.

Straf.Not this way!

This gate—I dreamed of it, this very gate.

Lady Car.It opens on the river: our good boatIs moored below, our friends are there.

Lady Car.It opens on the river: our good boat

Is moored below, our friends are there.

Straf.The same:Only with something ominous and dark,Fatal, inevitable.

Straf.The same:

Only with something ominous and dark,

Fatal, inevitable.

Lady Car.Strafford! Strafford!

Straf.Not by this gate! I feel what will be there!I dreamed of it, I tell you: touch it not!

Straf.Not by this gate! I feel what will be there!

I dreamed of it, I tell you: touch it not!

Lady Car.To save the King,—Strafford, to save the King!

[AsStraffordopens the door,Pymis discovered withHampden,Vane,etc.Straffordfalls back:Pymfollows slowly and confronts him.

Pym.Have I done well? Speak, England! Whose sole sakeI still have labored for, with disregardTo my own heart,—for whom my youth was madeBarren, my manhood waste, to offer upHer 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 sheWould sanctify all means) even to the blockWhich waits for him. And saying this, I feelNo bitterer pang than first I felt, the hourI swore that Wentworth might leave us, but IWould never leave him: I do leave him now.I render up my charge (be witness, God!)To England who imposed it. I have doneHer 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 sayI never loved but one man—David notMore Jonathan! Even thus, I love him nowAnd look for my chief portion in that worldWhere 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 allI look for there; but in my inmost heart,Believe, I think of stealing quite awayTo walk once more with Wentworth—my youth's friendPurged from all error, gloriously renewed,And Eliot shall not blame us. Then indeed ...This is no meeting, Wentworth! Tears increaseToo hot. A thin mist—is it blood?—enwrapsThe face I loved once. Then, the meeting be!

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

I still have labored 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

I never loved but one man—David not

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—my youth's friend

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 timeTo think and to decide on a great course:Manhood with action follows; but 'tis drearyTo 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 tooDies, smothered up. Poor gray old little LaudMay 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 ... Oh, my fate is nothing—Nothing! But not that awful head—not that!

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 ... Oh, my fate is nothing—

Nothing! But not that awful head—not that!

Pym. If England shall declare such will to me ...

Straf.Pym, you help England! I, that am to die,What I must see! 'tis here—all here! My God,Let me but gasp out, in one word of fire,How thou wilt plague him, satiating hell!What? England that you help, become through youA green and putrefying charnel, leftOur children ... some of us have children, Pym—Some who, without that, still must ever wearA darkened brow, an over-serious look,And never properly be young! No word?What if I curse you? Send a strong curse forthClothed from my heart, lapped round with horror tillShe 's fit with her white face to walk the worldScaring kind natures from your cause and you—Then to sit down with you at the board-head,The gathering for prayer ... O speak, but speak!... Creep up, and quietly follow each one home,You, you, you, be a nestling care for eachTo sleep with,—hardly moaning in his dreams,She gnaws so quietly,—till, lo he starts,Gets off with half a heart eaten away!Oh, shall you 'scape with less if she 's my child?You will not say a word—to me—to Him?

Straf.Pym, you help England! I, that am to die,

What I must see! 'tis here—all here! My God,

Let me but gasp out, in one word of fire,

How thou wilt plague him, satiating hell!

What? England that you help, become through you

A green and putrefying charnel, left

Our children ... some of us have children, Pym—

Some who, without that, still must ever wear

A darkened brow, an over-serious look,

And never properly be young! No word?

What if I curse you? Send a strong curse forth

Clothed from my heart, lapped round with horror till

She 's fit with her white face to walk the world

Scaring kind natures from your cause and you—

Then to sit down with you at the board-head,

The gathering for prayer ... O speak, but speak!

... Creep up, and quietly follow each one home,

You, you, you, be a nestling care for each

To sleep with,—hardly moaning in his dreams,

She gnaws so quietly,—till, lo he starts,

Gets off with half a heart eaten away!

Oh, shall you 'scape with less if she 's my child?

You will not say a word—to me—to Him?

Pym.If England shall declare such will to me ...

Straf.No, not for England now, not for Heaven now,—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!

Straf.No, not for England now, not for Heaven now,—

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,—I am thine own! Dost thou exactThat service? I obey thee to the end.

Pym. England,—I am thine own! Dost thou exact

That service? I obey thee to the end.

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

Browning beganSordelloin 1837, interrupted his work to write the earlier parts ofBells and Pomegranates, but resumed it and completed it in 1840, when it was published by Moxon. In 1863, when reprinting the poem, Browning dedicated it as below to M. Milsand, and in his dedication wrote practically a preface to the poem.

TO J. MILSAND, OF DIJON

Dear Friend,—Let the next poem be introduced by your name, therefore remembered along with one of the deepest of my affections, and so repay all trouble it ever cost me. I wrote it twenty-five years ago for only a few, counting even in these on somewhat more care about its subject than they really had. My own faults of expression were many; but with care for a man or book such would be surmounted, and without it what avails the faultlessness of either? I blame nobody, least of all myself, who did my best then and since; for I lately gave time and pains to turn my work into what the many might—instead of what the few must—like; but after all, I imagined another thing at first, and therefore leave as I find it. The historical decoration was purposely of no more importance than a background requires; and my stress lay on the incidents in the development of a soul: little else is worth study. I, at least, always thought so; you, with many known and unknown to me, think so; others may one day think so; and whether my attempt remain for them or not, I trust, though away and past it, to continue ever yours,R. B.

London,June 9, 1863.

Concerning this revised edition he wrote to a friend:—

"I do not understand what —— can mean by saying that Sordello has been 'rewritten.' I did certainly at one time intend to rewrite much of it, but changed my mind,—and the edition which I reprinted was the same in all respects as its predecessors—only with an elucidatory heading to each page, and some few alterations, presumably for the better, in the text, such as occur in most of my works. I cannot remember a single instance of any importance that is rewritten, and I only suppose that —— has taken project for performance, and set down as 'done' what was for a while intended to be done."

For the sake of such elucidation as these head-lines give, they are introduced here as side-notes.

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