Qlivcv Cromwell 
 
 LORD PEOTEOTOR OF ENGLAE"D 
 
 a Drama 
 
 BT / 
 
 THOMAS NIELD. 
 
 
 
 NEW YORK 
 THE ARGYLE PRESS 
 
 265 CuEuuY Street 
 
 \\n. 
 
 ■\^\ 
 

 Copyright, 1890, bt 
 THOMAS NIELD. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 THE ARGYLE PRESS 
 NKW YORK 
 
PROEM. 
 
 See Cromwell here, the Sinai of his age, 
 
 Kouiid whom the thunders of Jehovah rolled, 
 
 Cloud-clad in the eternal awfulness, 
 
 From the grim summit of his crags and peaks 
 
 The Infinite vouchsafed the decalogue 
 
 Of liberty, to be a basic law, 
 
 On which humanity might plant its foot. 
 
 A waymark ot the centuries is he. • 
 
 The clouds are lifted, and the lurid glare 
 
 Of war lends no more carmine to his guise ; 
 
 But, in the undimncd splendor of his fame, 
 
 He stands to-day divinely gloritied. 
 
 Then doff the shoes of prejudice, and kneel 
 
 Before approaching where Jehovah spake. 
 
gvamatts '^cxsmx^t. 
 
 Chomwell, 
 
 Fairfax, 
 
 Ireton, 
 
 Lambert, 
 
 Ludlow, | 
 
 Allen, A<Jft General 
 
 Harrison, Major. 
 
 Desborow, ^ 
 
 Whalley, 
 
 Hammond, 
 
 Pride, 
 
 Fleetwood, J 
 
 St. John, Lord Chief Justice. 
 
 Lenthall, Speaker. 
 
 Bradshaw, 
 
 Groby, 
 
 Wuitelocke, 
 
 Widdrinoton, 
 
 Wentworth, 
 
 Moore, 
 
 Walton, 
 
 Sydney, 
 
 Baas, French Envoy. 
 
 HiQH Shebiff. 
 
 Parliamentary 
 Generals. 
 
 Parliamentai-y 
 Colonels. 
 
 Members of Par- 
 liament. 
 
 Charles I. 
 
 Charles II. 
 
 Duke of Gloster, Son of Charles I 
 
 Princess Elizabeth, Danghter of 
 
 Charles I. 
 Pkince Kui'ert, Kephfic of Charles 
 
 I. 
 
 n^f^v^""' [Attendants of 
 Berkeley, V charh's I 
 
 Warwick, ) ^''■aues i. 
 
 Hyde, Attendant of Charles II. 
 Bishop of London. 
 Duke of Buckingham. 
 Earl of Holland. 
 Gerard, "l 
 
 Lo2/alist Con- 
 spirators. 
 
 Vowell, 
 
 Finch. 
 
 Henshaw, 
 
 BlLLINC.SLEY, J 
 
 i Fox, .-1 Spy. 
 I Tommy. A Clown. 
 Attoiulaiits, Commissioners, 
 
 Judges, Mayors, Soldiers, 
 
 Citizens. 
 ' A Woman. 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL, 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Scene I. The field of Nasehy after the battle. Sol- 
 diers on picket. 
 
 First Soldier. The godly Cromwell girts with glory- 
 old 
 Britannia's brow. Yea, and this day will pin 
 A brave rosette upon her breast. 
 
 Second S. In sooth, 
 
 The carnal prigs, who pranked themselves in their 
 Ungodly pride, have foundered on their fare. 
 Rupert, the whip, has lost his snapper, and 
 Will henceforth urge in vain the jaded nag 
 That bears the king's cause on its bony back. 
 He will remind himself, while memory lasts, 
 Of Naseby's field, as where the Lord set down 
 The foot of his almightiness and said : 
 '* Thus far, proud Prince ! but here thy tether pulls." 
 
 Third S. Marston and Newberry slapped liim on the 
 cheek ; 
 But Naseby stabs the dare-dog to the heart. — 
 I wonder what the king is thinking of 
 To-night. Belike, his thoughts come thick as dust 
 On windy days. 
 
 First S. Ay, thick enough to blind. 
 
 Or he had seen the Lord's uplifted hand 
 
 5 
 
6 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Above his head. The evil one has wrought 
 Confusion in his mind. 
 
 Third S. Then Satan is 
 
 Against Beelzebub ; for devil's work 
 He does for devilish ends. 
 
 Second S. . The King of kings 
 
 Gives Satan leave to overreach himself, 
 To have him find what he would gladly lose. 
 Hence has the arch fiend made the king his dupe. 
 Whose madness makes his mettle rush to doom 
 'Neath Retribution's lash. 
 
 Third S. The Ironsides 
 
 Have dug a grave full big enough for all 
 His greed, his tyranny, and papistries. 
 There but awaits an inquest on the corpse : 
 A thing to be before the year has bid 
 Good-by. 
 Fourths. [Approaching^ An inquest? Half a score 
 will get 
 No inquest, I'll be bound. 
 
 Third S. Why half a score ? 
 
 Fourth S. I knocked them in the head ; and day 
 will find 
 Too big a task on hand to ferret out 
 How every dog received his honest dues. 
 Mercy would give them all like boon. To hear 
 Them groan and beg the drink they cannot get ; 
 To see them eke their sufferings out and die. 
 Brings tender tingling into Pity's ear, 
 And is too much for Mercy to resist. 
 When one good blow can be a quietus. 
 
 Third S. How fine when sympathy and interest 
 meet, 
 Shake hands and kiss each other ! Killing then 
 Is such a virtuous thing ; and we advance 
 A step towards heaven in sending one to hell ! 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 7 
 
 Fourth S. The blarney stone was kissed with worm- 
 wood in 
 Thy mouth. 
 
 First S. It smacks of cowardice to kill 
 Who cannot do us further harm. 'Tis but 
 To kill a worm. And who would count that brave ? 
 
 Fourth S. What want we here, except to kill who 
 have 
 No right to live ? who are the burden, bane 
 And blasting of the land ? who would but live 
 To kill us for our ruth, or ram our throats 
 With an ungodly king, Avho has the stench 
 Of Rome upon his skirts, and England's blood 
 Upon bis hands ? Best done when cheapest done, 
 And done most thoroughly, what all want done 
 Who would not have our liberties undone. 
 
 Second S. We are the sword of Justice, whose it is 
 To kill, not spare. 
 
 First S. Yet something in one's blood 
 
 Makes loth to shed, in simple wantonness. 
 The blood of Englishmen. Tis bad enough 
 When battle's frenzy urges us. 
 
 Fourth S. Ay, but 
 
 Who knows what mongrel rabble serves the king— 
 Bogtrotting Irishman, and Scot, and French, 
 And Englishmen who shamed the English name ? 
 And papists all — sworn to un-English us. 
 With their fantastic and ungodly ways, 
 Or kill us, English as we are, in blood. 
 In heart, and all that gives good savor to . 
 The name. Ay, one or other is the sauce 
 They offer us. We must be slaves or die. 
 The first, an Englishman can never be ; 
 The second, never do till he extorts 
 The price in blood for blood. So here they are 
 To take it. Let them pay our price ; as pay 
 
8 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 They shall — and ten to one of wastrel stuff — 
 For what they get. [A groan from one approaching on 
 
 hands and Jctiees. 
 
 Third S. Who comes ? 
 
 Hoyalist Soldier. An Englishman. 
 
 Second S. Thy English may be but the color of 
 An adder with a fatal fang. Speak thou — 
 A friend or foe ? 
 
 R. S. In too ill plight to be 
 
 A foe. 
 
 Fourth S. Think not thy plight, if fruitage of 
 Thy own misdeeds, can shelter thee. 
 
 H. S. Distress 
 
 Is plea that must prevail with English blood. 
 
 Third S. In sooth, thou seemest in too dreadful 
 plight 
 To be a dreadful foe. But hadst thou done 
 Thy will, we were as thou and thou as we. 
 Then hadst thou been as chirk and chuff, I ween, 
 As a fat goose in sight of Christmas-tide. 
 
 R. S. Think thou art me and I am thou, and do 
 Thou now as thou would'st have me then, and so 
 Be best thyself, by being what thine own 
 Best self would be. 
 
 Third S. Thy tongue, I fear me, is 
 
 A ready snare, to take one's nature on 
 The woman side. 
 
 R. S. Nay, fear no snare from one 
 
 Who shivers on life's farther shore ; nor let 
 The choler born of general strife make thee 
 Dispiteous towards a countryman, who asks 
 Thee but to glove Death's calloused hand. 
 
 Fourth S. So worse. 
 
 If countryman disloyal to the realm. 
 And so a red-hot traitor to us all, 
 Whose hand has cramped in holding on our throat. 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 9 
 
 R. S. Nay, loyal to the king — tlie liead-^and so 
 To all the body true. [He/alls over and stretches out. 
 
 Fourth S. Mercy to thee, 
 
 I fear me, were no mercy to the realm. 
 
 First S. Be not at loggerheads about the head, 
 Which this day's work has taken from the trunk. 
 Would'st thou a drink ? [^Stoo2ying down. 
 
 JR. S. A drink — a drink — a drink. 
 
 First S. Here, take the last I have to serve thy last. 
 
 Ji. S. [After drinking^ Heaven give its best to serve 
 thy last ! 
 
 F\rst S. [Iiisi?ig]. Nature 
 Is older than the realm or king, and binds 
 Us in a broader brotherhood. Then while 
 Defenceless suffering lies beside our path, 
 As Lazarus at the rich man's gate, forbid 
 That we should be less pitiful than dogs. 
 Which plied him with their only pharmacy. 
 
 Fourth S. But Nature has a head as well as heart. 
 
 First S. Yet nothing here offends against the head. 
 Had Charles but more of heart and less of head. 
 We had been shouting now, God save the king ! 
 Then give we kinghood to the qualities 
 For lack of which he bids to be unkinged. 
 Assured that we, by having what he lacks, 
 Shall gain where he has lost and king the right. 
 Wend thou in memory to the wanton days 
 When tliou wert wandering with a wayward foot, 
 And tread again the ins-and-outs that made 
 Thy life a labyrinth of sin ; then say 
 If mercy did thee harm, or left the grace 
 Of God aught poorer by enriching thee. 
 
 Fourth S. Well, give thy charity a stretch. 'Twill 
 cost thee nought. 
 
 First S. [Stoojnng]. Death makes us kin ; and 
 doubly so 
 
10 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 In English cloth. It were not meet for me 
 
 To weigh thy sins, who have my own ; and steel 
 
 My heart, which is by nature hard ; or to 
 
 Denounce and label thee for doom. 
 
 When Judge there is, in whose impartial scales 
 
 Our shrinkages will shew. What can I more 
 
 To smooth thy exit hence ? 
 
 JR. S. Thy ruth for one 
 
 Who earned it not will give thee weight at last, 
 When tested by the balance of the Judge. 
 God pay that ruth on earth by giving one 
 To help my brother should he meet like stress. 
 
 Mrst S. Thy brother ? Prythee, man, how so ? 
 
 H. S. The tongue 
 
 Of Rumor hath it that he took to arms 
 Against his gracious Majesty. Kind Heaven 
 Above knows how he fares to-night. Oh, sad 
 It is to have a brother traitor to 
 His king ! Yet would I have him spared, in hope 
 He may return to loyalty. Or if 
 The tug of death be on, Heaven send him friends. 
 
 Mrsi jS. Thy brother's name ? 
 
 JR. S. John Summerfield. 
 
 Mrst S. From where ? 
 
 JR. S. From Thame. 
 
 JFirst S. Thou dost not say ! Thy name ? 
 
 JR. S. Jerome. 
 
 JFirst S. Heaven save us ! Thee Jerome ? And I 
 am John — John Summerfield, of Thame. 
 
 H. S. Heaven ! can it be ? 
 
 Methought a something brotherly was in 
 Thy heart, suspecting not a brother's hand. 
 This makes my hard earth-pillow turn to down : 
 Yet not without a thorn, to know that thou 
 Art in so bad a cause. For hope is fled 
 From England while her king is smitten by 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 11 
 
 Their hands who ought to do him reverence. Nay, 
 What liope have they who do him this despite 
 Should death find treason's brand upon their brow ? 
 
 First S. We owe the king but what his deeds have 
 earned, 
 Which deeds are ill — and pay but like for like. 
 
 M. S. But he is none the less our lawful king, 
 Whom none, except the Judge of all, may judge 
 In lawfulness. 
 
 First S. I call the king a man ; 
 
 Than which thou would'st not call him more. Admit, 
 Who is but man, while yet he breaks the laws 
 Of man, must answer at man's judgment bar. 
 
 a. S. A man ; and yet a God-anointed man ; 
 And hence his will is as the will of God. 
 Then who are we to say our Maker nay ? 
 
 First S. Our Maker ! Does He hellish deeds to serve 
 His ends ? Bids he a Charles be tyrant ; stamp 
 His foot upon the laws he swore to keep ; 
 Distress the land to overfeed a few ; 
 Outlie the Devil with a pious twang ; 
 Ay, put the very Devil to the blush ? 
 Away thy spider-woven quillets that 
 Would hold his honor to the flagstaff whose 
 Vile deeds invoke the winds to tatter it. 
 No crown can sanctify his villainies. 
 
 Ji. S. To mete out chastisement to villains is 
 No villainy ; and villain's villains are 
 A Fairfax, Cromwell, and such like. 
 
 First S. By him 
 
 I serve, thou art unbrothered from this hour — 
 Un-Englished — alienated — made a nought 
 To me, save as I can imagine thee 
 A something to dispatch. 
 
 H. S. Ah, John, there is 
 
 Too little to dispatch to pay thee for 
 
12 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 A blow ! But let me die a score of times, 
 Though by a score of brothers' hands, to serve 
 My king, rather than save the fag-end of 
 A life by failing him who has the web. 
 First S. Then die if thou art mad as that ! [Step- 
 ping bacJc.^ But let 
 Thy poisoned lip dare brother me no more. 
 I rue me of the ruth already shown. 
 To think that thou should'st make the king a Baal ! 
 Should'st call the godh^ Cromwell villain, when 
 A paring of his finger-nail were Avorth 
 A score such kings ! Thou art a Hottentot 
 In soul ; while I am English through and through. 
 Death never did a better thing than Avhen 
 He saved my father's ears from hearing thee ; 
 Nor life a Avorse, than wlien he let me hear. 
 
 Fourth S. If thou art squeamish I can stop his prate. 
 
 [Raising his musket. 
 
 First S. Hold ! Let us not forestall the hand of 
 Death. 
 
 Fourth S. We have forestalled it when we had less 
 prate. 
 In this black mouth [holding up the muzzle of his m.usket^ 
 
 there is a tongue tliat tells 
 Our mission, which is a forestalling one. 
 Malignants have to die or live to kill. 
 Allow them life, we sanction our own death. 
 He would not spare us with a snaphance cocked. 
 
 First /S. His end is near and needs no help from thee. 
 Climb not a falling tree to bring it down, 
 Nor step on one, when down, to keep it there. 
 
 [Meeunt. 
 
OLIVER CROMWKLL. 13 
 
 ScENB II. King Charles pacing the floor in a room 
 of Newark Castle. 
 
 Charles. Unlucky stars are in conjunction, and 
 The ill-breeding midnight of ill fate 
 Has brought the wraith of destiny to haunt 
 M}-- mind. The tempest flaps its wings of wrath 
 Above the columned powers that held the throne. 
 That held. Alas ! The tense is in the past — 
 The deaf, dead past. Those powers are low, amid 
 The ruins of whose cornices and shafts 
 My shattered majesty is prone, until 
 Myself seems other than myself. Avaunt ! 
 Be laid, thou ghostly moodiness ! I have 
 A fit of mental rheum, which films the eye 
 And ill befits anointed royalty. 
 Insensate nature's equinoxes have 
 Their place and mission as the left hand of 
 Beneficence, to fit the woods to wear 
 The morning gown of spring. And why not, in 
 This higher sphere, a higher end ? A voice 
 "Within me says : Paint not thy landscape by 
 Tiie light of stars. Yet was I painting on 
 A cloud}^ uight, with canvas pitchy black. 
 Arise, O Sun ! Awake, my better self ! 
 Look through the gloam of Providence and wait. 
 Already light is blushing on my thoughts. 
 Flushed by the rosy laughter of the dawn. — 
 Heaven sends a purge for humors in the blood ; 
 From which comes nausea that affects the head. 
 That head is brain, eye, ear, nose, mouth, in one : 
 Which make it necessary to the trunk. 
 Hence must I be the thinker for the realm, 
 To solve this problem of calamity. 
 My eye must see where every danger lurks ; 
 My ear must hear when'er it stirs a foot j 
 
14 OLIVER CKOMAVELL. 
 
 My nostril scent it wlien it changes place ; 
 My mouth blow tally-ho to swoop the pack. — 
 Ah, me ! The problem still is on the slate ; 
 
 [Sitting doiC7i. 
 Ami, like a wit-dazed schoolboy, I behold 
 The figures that outstare me as they had 
 An idiot's eyes. My armies have been as 
 The summer clouds. My strongholds crumbled at 
 The cannon's mouth. My friends proved icicles, 
 Which melted as the breath of treason warmed. 
 Now I am caitiff to a caitiff crew, 
 Whose brutishness is gloating o'er my plight. 
 Thus there remains my solitary self — 
 My naked self ; more naked than when born. 
 Myself? Then I have but myself to trust ; 
 Nor other e'er was worthy of like trust. 
 My naked self ? Tiien I must clothe myself ; 
 Wrap the broad mantle of my majesty 
 About me ; breed devices worthy of 
 A king, to countorbuff the cunning of 
 My foes, then make them stagger with the blows 
 I deal. And stagger shall they, every one, 
 When Retribution lets me grasj^ his lance. 
 O Justice ! slowly lifts thy arm ; but when 
 It falls, it falls a flaming thunderbolt. 
 
 Enter Prince RrPEET. 
 
 Sure king had never greater need of friends, 
 Nor greater lack of friends to serve his need. 
 
 Rupert. Friends are not few ; but, like your Majesty, 
 They are sore beaten by the present stress; 
 For 'tis their fall that lays your fortunes low. 
 
 C. True, nominally I have friends ; friends who 
 Appreciate my smile, and use it as 
 
 They might my coat — to keep them warm ; and friends 
 Who, with my interests on their back, were sure 
 
OLIVKR CKOMWKI.I,. 16 
 
 To stumble to my lasting loss. Such friends 
 Would serve me best when farthest off. 
 
 Ji. Pray put 
 
 Not me in such a catalogue ; for not 
 An atom of my being but would rouse 
 To slap the base insinuation on 
 
 The cheek, 'Tis true, I served you when you smiled. 
 But smiles were none had I not served you well. 
 Nay, every smile I got was doubly earned. 
 Say that I stumbled : had all stumbled like 
 Myself, from greatest lord to meanest churl 
 Had shewn, ere this, a supple knee. 
 
 C. A zeal 
 
 There is that has no ear when Prudence warns ; 
 But with infatuated force it speeds. 
 And leaps the precipice whose depth it would 
 Not see ; as if its blindness might avert 
 Its doom. 
 
 Ji. And other zeal there is — a zeal 
 
 That beards exigencies and tears them limb 
 From limb. Such was the zeal I spent to serve 
 Your cause ; a zeal too great, too true, too good, 
 For your ingratitude to measure it 
 And grant its dues. 
 
 C. Who wrote, in running-hand, 
 
 The tragedy of Marston Moor ? You know. 
 Who skinned the left hand of the rebel force 
 At Naseby, then, not many lances length, 
 Stood by, with sword well scabbarded, and let 
 The foe cut down the prop that held our hopes ? 
 You know. Who held the kej^s of Bristol in 
 His hand, with cliarge to keep them as he kept 
 His life, yet at a cock-crow shook and gave 
 Them up ? You know. Ill fare is that to feed 
 A prince's boast. 
 
 H. A loval heart, and arm 
 
10 OLIVER CROMWELL 
 
 That serves a king — though falling short of that 
 
 At which they aim — should find an aegis in 
 
 His gn^titude. Much more should he whose one 
 
 Simile fault, if fault it be, is this — he sor\ed 
 
 Too well. Say failure was my forte. Share yon 
 
 The blame whose eyes have seen it not till now, 
 
 But who requited with I'epeated trusts. 
 
 But fail I did not : and did egoism leave 
 
 Your honesty iingagged. you so would s;\y. 
 
 That I at Marston Moor did all that's worth 
 
 The boasting of. you know. What odds to me. 
 
 Or what the deivgation of my fame. 
 
 That others laggeil Whind ? That wliat was won 
 
 At Xaseby I was winner of. you know. 
 
 What odds, what blame, that I could not transfuse 
 
 My soul ? That I in Bristol could but cower 
 
 AK>ve the black and cooling emWi-? of 
 
 Your cause, you know. What gain to starve a town 
 
 And give its carcass to the dogs, to prove 
 
 One's stubbornness ? Tliat thus, when five from clogs 
 
 Of lumbering laggards, I compelled suct^^^ss. 
 
 And failed but when you l>ade me climb the heights 
 
 Of the impi^ssible. you know. And yet 
 
 You raise the ghost of Bristol to remind 
 
 Me that my feeble force foiled not a host. 
 
 Forgetful of my gallantry when it 
 
 Was bristled o'er with men. If few might hold, 
 
 What glory that I took it many-manned ? 
 
 Your memory- ought to shame your tongue to teU 
 
 The better as it tells the worse. For I 
 
 Am not distilling secrets in your ear. 
 
 C. Yet yon possess the art of striking an 
 Occiision on the hip, or you had not 
 Pr^sumevi to harry me with insolence. ^ 
 But m.irk, young prince : capricious Fortune, who 
 Has shorn our rovaltv and oiled thv tonsrue. 
 
OI.IVKIl ('KO.MWKI.r.. 17 
 
 M;iy slioar tlu-o yet, and givo tliy mouth ;i i;ag. 
 
 'IMiiiik'st thou tliat God, wlioso substitutr I am, 
 
 Is doaf, and will not vindicate llis own 
 
 Against thy railleries ? I tell thee nay ; 
 
 r>ut III' will follow thee to any nook 
 
 Of earth, and flaunt thy follies in thy face, 
 
 Until thou call'st upon the past to give 
 
 Thee back thy words, that thou maj'st triturate 
 
 Them into sheer unmeaningness, and sink 
 
 Them, slime-deep, in oblivion's grass-green depths. 
 
 Yea, lie will vindicate mo as Himself. 
 
 li. Perchance I wear the slippers t)f a king, 
 As you the shoes. And, by my troth, I would 
 Not make exchange ; for you, to-morrow, may 
 lint be the shadow of a king, while I 
 Possess the substance of a prince. Indeed, 
 I am to-day more prince than you are king. 
 Thus am I vindicated more than you, 
 And have less discount of divinity. 
 
 C. O callow youth ! to have a blind eye to 
 The fact that crooked lanes oft come out right 
 At last, and straight ones dead against a wall. 
 When darkness broods, it makes us realize 
 All-present power and reach beyond ourselves 
 To grasp Omnipotence. Our weakness thus 
 Becomes our strength ; our darkness, light. Prepare 
 Thee, then, to hear that Charles of England sits 
 On England's throne, more firmly rooted for 
 The wrestling of the winds that bluster now. 
 And when thou hear'st, recall thou, and repent 
 Of this thy barbed impertinence, and bid 
 Thy Judgment sentinel at Duty's post. 
 So shall thy folly turn to good account, 
 And serve thee as misfortune serves my turn. 
 
 jR. Nay, your centrifugal ingratitude. 
 Which drives away your friends, will leave you lone ; 
 
18 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 For e'en devotion, fastened by u score 
 
 Of ties, stands not forever, liat in liand. 
 
 To do tlie bidding of a thankless king. 
 
 There is your blindness ; there the bane in all 
 
 You say and do. Brave hearts pour out their blood, 
 
 And you reproach them that they have no more. 
 
 C. As sure as God is God and I am king. 
 If thou wilt stay on England's soil thy tongue 
 Shall cost thee dear. 
 
 M. Oh, bugbear oatli ! As sure 
 
 As you are king, whose tongue is all your head ; 
 The all of Charles ; tlie final morsel of 
 A king ; a bit of quivering flesh, which, like 
 A snake's tail, squirms because the other end 
 Is scotched ! Think you I fear a cast-off king, 
 Who in his heyday leaned upon my arm, 
 And threats because I cannot longer bear 
 The dead weight of his helplessness ? Who, think 
 You, waits to see yon nod ? This garrison. 
 Which treats you as a boy bis broken kite ? 
 An Essex — Fairfax — Cromwell ; they whose swords 
 Will thirst until they drink your blood ? or a 
 Mad Parliament, which makes itself the stake 
 Of War's relentless game '? Your lightning is 
 The other side the earth. Your thunder sole 
 Remains. 
 
 C. As thou hast been the wormwood in 
 
 My cup, so now its bitterest dregs are in 
 Thy flippant and malicious fluency. 
 Well, let me drink it if it be His will 
 Who makes both wormwood and the roses grow. 
 
 JR. It shews one's stomach Avhcn we sicken at 
 The truth. But most commendable is this 
 Politic piety — to j'ield yourself 
 A victim to necessity. Had but 
 A tithe of this complaisance nimbused you 
 
OLIVKU CHOMWKLL. 19 
 
 I'jioi) the throne, j'ou were not kenneled now, 
 ^\'itll suc'Ii a set of keepers as are liere. 
 
 C. Go thou, and leave my sight forevermore, 
 Nor set again a foot on this fair soil. 
 
 R. Coniinand the sun to shine, and me to go. 
 Both will obey. And fear not my return. 
 The freed bird will not seek its former cage. \^Exeunt. 
 
 Scene in. O71 the street near Westminster. A crowd 
 of Apprentices. 
 
 First Apprentice. God save the king 1 
 
 Second A. Give us a head. 
 
 Third A. 'Twould stun 
 
 A dozen lords to tell us whether he 
 Be head or tail, the way he wags. 
 
 Fourth A. Bring back 
 
 The king and good old times. 
 
 Fifth A. The good old times 
 
 Are buried five years deep. It's been but strife 
 And ill-luck since he left. 
 
 Shouts. A commoner ! 
 
 There goes a commoner. Pelt him with stones. 
 God save the king ! The king ! We want the king ! 
 
 Si.vth A. I'm sick of wasting blood ; and English 
 blood 
 To boot : and goodness knows what for. 
 
 Third A. Belike, 
 
 You want black puddings by the yard. 
 
 Fifth A. Where is 
 
 The king? 
 
 Third A. Shut in a box, for aught I know. 
 And fed on lollipop. 
 
 Fourth A. I wish he were 
 
 But back to share with us ; for we have had 
 More loll than pop. 
 
:2u oLnjiK cnoMWELL. 
 
 Sixth A. We never had a chance 
 
 The match of this to count our ribs ; and, king 
 Away, vre soon may have no ribs. 
 
 Third A. ' What boots 
 
 A king, to eat fat dinners and be coached 
 About, with full-fed flunkies at his heels ? 
 We have too much to do to feed ourselves. 
 
 Sixth A. There, take a raw beefsteak thyself. 
 
 \^Slaj)j)ing him on the mouth. 
 
 Fifth A. The place 
 
 Beefsteaks are always meant to fit. 
 
 TJiird A. Here's at 
 
 Thee. {^Striking. Severed lay hold of him. 
 
 Fourth A. Watch thy hide or thou may'st have no 
 hide 
 To watch. 
 
 Second A. No king, no head ; no head, no tail ; 
 No head or tail, no anytliing. 
 
 Seventh A. 'Tis time 
 
 This everlasting dilly-dally — ay, 
 And fiddle-faddle — of the Commons had 
 An end. Their wind will fill no diuner-j^ot 
 With broth. 
 
 Tlie JMoh. Ho for the Commons ! Make them vote. 
 The Commons ! on ! The Commons ! Tie their tongues 
 And make them vote. 
 
 [Bushing to the door of the House of Commons. 
 
 Shouts. Open the door. Open, 
 
 Or we will splinter it to shoe-pegs. Bring 
 Some paving-stones, and we will find a way. 
 
 [The door is broken open. 
 
 Tlie 3lob [F/itering]. Vote ! Vote ! 
 
 Speaker [Leaving the chair]. The members 
 
 must be free, or what 
 They do is void. 
 
 A Jl)ic€. Full free they are to do 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 21 
 
 As we demand ; as do they must. 
 
 [ The Speaker is nushed iitto the chair. 
 
 Seco7icl V. No tricks 
 
 To-day, but work. 
 
 First V. What answer has the house 
 
 To our petition ? 
 
 )Sp. As to that, the house 
 
 Has had the matter in advisement, and 
 Desires to act as in its wisdom suits 
 The gravity — 
 
 First V. Oh, no palaver now ! 
 You mean that nought is done. Then we demand 
 That you undo what yesterday you did. 
 You dubbed us traitors who demand the king. 
 We bid you wipe your hand across the lie. 
 
 Second V. The king must be restored. So much we 
 want ; 
 And, by our right arm, so much we will have. 
 
 Shouts. We mean it, word for word. Give back the 
 king 
 And peace ! Give us the king and work ! The king ! 
 Peace ! Work ! The king and good old times ! We 
 
 wont 
 Have nay. Vote ! Vote ! 
 
 Sjy. What must we vote ? 
 
 Shouts. To have 
 
 The king come back. 
 
 Sp. Aught else ? 
 
 First V. To have him come 
 
 With safety, freedom, honor, as befits 
 A king. 
 
 Sp. Now vote you, gentlemen, on both 
 Of these, as pleases you. 
 
 Second V. As pleases us^ 
 
 Or you will be mispleased. 
 
 Members [^Shoutingl. Aye ! 
 
22 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Others. No. 
 
 Sp. The ayes 
 
 Prevail. 
 
 A Voice. But which way have you voted ? 
 
 Sp. To 
 
 Restore the king ; so hie you home and keep 
 The peace. 
 
 /Shouts. Three cheers for bonny Charles, the king. 
 
 [ Cheers. Exeunt. 
 
 Scene IV. King Charles at Wbburn, in a room of the 
 Castle. 
 
 Charles \^Alo7ie'\. The tide is turned, and I am with 
 the flood. 
 A few more shallows passed, I shall be moored. 
 My hand must hold the helm and mark the tide, 
 Keeping my craft mid-stream. For but myself 
 Can manage what so much concerns myself. 
 This herd has played the bull and gored me sore ; 
 But wit shall ring it yet and make it do 
 My bid. For so it is : brutes wanton with 
 Their strength till man subdues, and armies with 
 A king until his wit awakes. Aicakes? 
 That word has touched a fact. With dormant wit, 
 I pitted force to force, and trusted not 
 Myself ; an almost fatal fault ! One kingly head 
 Is more than armies in the field, by so 
 Much as divinity surpasses what 
 Is commonplace and gross. But say adieu 
 To that. At length I am awake. This head 
 Shall master all the masters of the field. 
 Indulgent Time ! spread out the canvas of 
 Thy opportunities, that I may etch 
 M}" purposes on thy expanse, and shew 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 23 
 
 The world what glory crowns the genius of 
 A king. 
 
 Ashburnhani \^Entering\ How fares your gracious 
 Majesty ? 
 
 C. God bless thee, Jack, for such a gracious word ! 
 My spring is meadow-green. Blue skies o'erhead 
 Have clouds of nugget gold and silver ore. 
 The winds are warm, and welcome as the queen's 
 First kiss. The red streams of my life are flush 
 With April rains, and the imprisoned buds 
 Of promise burst their bars. O, Jack ! it tones 
 One's courage up to- hear the linnets of 
 His liope. 
 
 A. 'Tis more than aqua vitce to 
 
 A man to find ^-ou in so gay a mood ; 
 For none too gay, if I can read the times. 
 
 C. Thine eye, Jack, were a credit to a king. 
 
 A. Inside the show, I would not miss to see 
 The lion eat his keepers. Hence I watch 
 The movements in the cage. 
 
 C. Tiiy fun is as 
 
 A finger-prod between the ribs. It starts 
 The owls of melancholy from their roost. 
 
 A. And there is nought to call them back, while these 
 Curmudgeon generals dill-down in their fear. 
 It is a hybrid show — across between 
 A fiinci'al and a mask — to see the way 
 'i'hey twitch and jerk, and yawn and scratch their heads, 
 Get up and strut, and then sit down again. 
 Now Fairfax looks at Ireton, who returns 
 His gaze ; then both at Cromwell, fidgeting, 
 With an interrogative eye, solemn 
 IJy turns as fifty monks in Lent, and then 
 As wrathful as a baited bear, 'i'hey feel 
 Themselves enmeshed, and want a king to cut 
 TIh- mesh. 
 
24 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 G. The caitiffs will abide my time ; 
 
 And they may tliaiik tlieir stars if several lieads 
 Adorn not Ilolborn Hill. 
 
 A. In sooth, it were 
 
 A goodh"" siglit for the apprentices 
 Who swarmed the Commons, clamoring for their king. 
 A decent batch of heads would feed their hearts 
 Like mortar, as their loyalty clung close 
 As ivy to the throne. 
 
 C. Ah, Jack ! were I 
 
 In London now, this phantom army would 
 Evanish in a week. But Patience points 
 Me to the clock of luck, whose midnight hour 
 Is near ; and patiently I shall await 
 Its stroke. 
 
 A. That is a comfortable view — 
 
 A pillow where your head may lie on down, 
 While plaguy thoughts give place to pleasant dreams. 
 There rest j^our Majesty till Fortune taps 
 You on the arm and becks you to the throne. 
 
 C. What answer, thinkest thou, should I return, 
 When these recalcitrants come suing next 
 For terms ? as so I understand is their 
 Intent. But that I need not ask ; for thou 
 Hast kingliness of soul that makes thee half 
 A king. 
 
 A. Beshrew me, I sliould make them feel 
 
 That 'twas a royal and offended hand 
 They sought ; and so 'twould breed a chill behind 
 The neck. 
 
 (J. Just like thee, honest Jack ! I will 
 
 Remember thee and all thy worthy speech. 
 Tliy counsel earns embalmment from thy king ; 
 For thou hast ever counseled to liis mind : 
 And ne'er was counsel needed more than now : 
 Leave me alone, and I will weigh it well. 
 
 \_Exit Ashhurnham. 
 
OI.IVKR CUOMWKLI.. 25 
 
 One is not poor wliile such a friend I'emains. 
 
 His intuitions are a telescope 
 
 That pierces the galactic circle of 
 
 Affairs and shows tlie remedy for ills ; 
 
 While others move like blind men, with the learned 
 
 Dog Chance to lead. There is withal a plague 
 
 Of poltroonry and weakness everywhere : 
 
 An admonition to be more myself. \^A knock. 
 
 Ah, who comes now? YEnter Sir John Berkeley.^ You 
 
 seem a picture of 
 The day, or of a man whose dinner fits 
 His stomach to its full circumference. 
 
 J3. 'Twould cheer the rifted lieart of Grief to see 
 Your JMajesty in such a playful mood. 
 
 C. Man's circumstances make his moods ; and mine, 
 Now gibbous as the moon, are waxing fast 
 And promising the full. 
 
 B. And faster than 
 
 "We see with naked eye ; enough to set 
 Our hopes agog. Your Majesty has here 
 A draft of proposition mutually 
 Prepared by parliament and army, which 
 Will be presented as a basis for 
 Your restoration to the throne. And such 
 It is as well may make your blood bound in 
 A rapturous cataract. 
 
 \^Hands the paper to Charles, who reads. 
 
 C That which concerns 
 
 The parliament may be allowed ; as well 
 The small adjustments by disfranchisement, 
 With lesser items. But I must object 
 To divers other hard conditions, which 
 Accord not with the honor of a king. 
 And which they would not venture to propose 
 Did they in honest faith desire to close 
 With me. They seek but an excuse for deeds 
 
20 OLIVER CROMWELU 
 
 They cannot justify, and think me blind 
 
 Enouijh, or weak enough, to Uiy my liead 
 
 Upon their bUiek. But I am as tlie sun, 
 
 Wliose disk they eannot hide with one small hand 
 
 Of eraft, and, citadeled in royalty. 
 
 Beyond their power to breach. [Charles still readinff. 
 
 J). Did they ask less, 
 
 I should believe them falser than they are ; 
 For wlien the heart is tensioned by success, 
 It does not sound in low and abject notes, 
 Except when tampered with to please the ear. 
 Thank God they strike so weak a string, and get 
 So little where they hope for much. Sure crown, 
 So nearly lost, was ne'er so cheaply saved. 
 They ask but little that may not inure 
 To your advantage. with aqviirk of wit ; 
 The wit that is indigenous to your 
 Exuberant mind. 
 
 C Some exigencies tweak 
 
 The nose of "Wit, and laugh in mockery of 
 Our helplessness. Ir calls for more than wit 
 To s;ive the head when drops the axe of doom. 
 Their scheme is tliis : to make a puppet king. 
 Without a soul or living arm of power ; 
 A seal to stamp their actions with, and make 
 Rebellion smirk with ray authority. 
 But tliey mistake if they regard me as 
 In penitential mood, content to take 
 Such flagellations as their spleen would give. 
 The nerve of royalty remains — the strong 
 And ineradicable consciousness 
 Of my anointing from above, which makes 
 Me necessary to the realm I hold in trust 
 To Him who made it mine inheritance. 
 Note the humiliation they demand : 
 That I. with bandaged eves, subscribe to have 
 
OLIVKK CROMWELL. 27 
 
 'I'hcm do their will on seven most trusted friends. 
 What more could they, except to ask my life ? 
 Sure never king did leave the summit of 
 His majesty to kneel so low. Shall I 
 Ik' first, and hy consent? Tlu; axe that took 
 Tijose heads would graze my skin and leave a scar 
 That time's mutations never could outgrow. 
 Then shall tlie frown of this capricious hour 
 I\Iake me unmindful of my dignity ? 
 Scath me heaven's thunderbolts, if so I be ! 
 
 B. 'Tis but a humor of the passing hour, 
 Born of the rancor that exhales like mist 
 From sodden fields, but which will be dispersed 
 When War has scabbarded his sword, and Peace 
 Caressed the country into smiles. But should 
 Some adverse cause retard, with little strain 
 Upon your word 3^ou may avert the blow, 
 
 By banishing the victims of their wrath. 
 
 C. My word is but the echo of my will. 
 Hence, changing this, the echo too must change, 
 liut not my word, my honor is at stake. 
 
 What most concerns me is, thus to concede 
 
 That I am squeezed into so close a strait. [Heading. 
 
 Nay, still a keener cut than that is here. 
 
 They shut the door of Parliament against 
 
 My friends, thus branding royalty a crime, 
 
 To make me powerless, while they panoply 
 
 Themselves in tlie substantial dignities 
 
 Of kingship ; whicli to ask, is insolence 
 
 Too diabolical for hell ; and which 
 
 To give, I must be false to every trust, 
 
 Pollute the holiest sanctities of my 
 
 Estate, and make my name a byword for 
 
 Tlie world to spit upon. No ! Take my head, 
 
 But take it with my honor on its brow. 
 
 B. In sooth, your Majesty, the whole affair 
 
28 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Will prove a pompous puppet-show, in which 
 
 They will but, in imaginary jDower, 
 
 Obey the strings that you will have in hand. 
 
 'Twill boot you well to have them strut the stage 
 
 And get the hisses of a discontent 
 
 That even now is fidgeting. The foot 
 
 Of War has left a wreck behind that Avill 
 
 Not be repaired without some draining of 
 
 The country's purse ; when, with the drain, will come 
 
 A general blame, redounding to your praise. 
 
 Who never did the like. So will it j^rove 
 
 A counter irritant and work a cure. 
 
 C. Charles Stuart, triply kinged, lie abjectly 
 At rebels' feet until their blunders bid 
 Him rise ! That were to ask of me to be 
 No more myself. Orion rather shall 
 Vacate his azure throne, and Death dismount 
 His horse, and Time put up his scythe, than I 
 Imperil my prerogative. And yet \^Ileading^. 
 A deadlier dreg of infamy is in 
 The cup with which they hope to burn my lip. 
 Not satisfied to strij) the bod}', l\\ej 
 Would steal eternal treasures from the soul. 
 Infatuate fanatics ! They would starve 
 The church ; for tliey provide no nourishment. 
 O Berkeley ! In the church eternal hopes 
 Are shrined. The church is marrow to us — life, 
 Light, power. Tlie church, I say — the church, which is 
 The ark that consecrated hands have borne 
 Adown the ages in unbroken line ; 
 Where hovers the shekinah of the truth, 
 Which guarantees the throne the presence of 
 Omnipotence. The king must save the church 
 As he would keep his throne and save his soul. 
 No Independent lunacy must be 
 Allowed ; no Presbyterian bastardj^ 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 29 
 
 Be dubbed legitimate ; but she — heaven-bora, 
 The virgin of the Lord — must be preserved^ 
 Inviolable in her purity, 
 By me, the heaven-appointed guardian of 
 Tier chastity. And think you I shall fail? 
 First move the pillars of the eternal throne. 
 IIow could I yield in this and meet my Judge ? 
 
 B. Most gracious IVIajesty ! the law remains, 
 A rock against the billows of their rage ; 
 Nor will it budge in grinding them to spray. 
 But mark how pregnant is their silence here. 
 And from that silence auspicate some good. 
 Silence, when they are tempted so to speak, 
 Implies an utterness of unconcern 
 That gives a chance to thumb-and-finger them, 
 When Fortune's wheel brings round the lucky hour. 
 
 C. I execrate the thought of taking terms 
 From those who ought to seek me on their knees. 
 'Tis they, not me, who have to yield. I am 
 Essential to these kingdoms as the sun ; 
 And I shall see them glad to kiss my hand. 
 That answer has a sign and seal within 
 My heart ; nor can it be revoked. \^Exit Berkeley. 
 
 Wrong is 
 A Judas, doomed to die of suicide ; 
 And here it sees the rope. My honor as 
 A Christian king — they yet shall feel my hand. 
 For Newark's contumely, for multiplied 
 Affronts and harrowings of vicissitude. 
 Their heads were paltry pay. 
 
 B. [Iie-e7iterinff'\. The generals come. 
 
 C. Here let them learn how weak they are. 
 
 B. To lay 
 These troubles in the grave of peace, were worth, 
 Methinks, a funeral costing half your crown. 
 
 C. Not half-a-crown in minted silver, if 
 
30 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 In compromise. 'Twere so much thrown away ; 
 For what we buried would but rise again, 
 Before the bar of Justice to account. 
 My right is, everything ; and I shall have 
 My right. 
 
 Enter Cromwell, Ireton, and others. 
 
 Cromioell. The parliament and army are 
 Agreed upon the terms we may present. 
 With safety to the realm and honor to 
 Your Majesty, as pledge and guaranty 
 Of peace. We come, as representing both. 
 To learn your pleasure when we bruit the terms. 
 
 C. The terms are known ; hence little breath you need. 
 
 Crom. That gives you season for mature reply; 
 Which, as you love yourself and we the realm, 
 May have, I hope, complaisance on its lip. 
 
 C It is mature ; since every fiber of 
 It is an everlasting principle 
 Of right. You ask to immolate, 
 Upon the altar of assent, seven victims to 
 Your vengeance ; whose sole fault is having served 
 Myself, their king, to whom the King of kings 
 Has made them liege. Thus would you curse whom 
 
 Heaven 
 Has blessed, and bless where He has cursed — to prove 
 How well you love the realm ! Is that not so ? 
 
 Ireton. We ask exclusion of that number from 
 The general amnesty. 
 
 C. You bid me turn 
 
 The keys of Westminster against my friends ! 
 And so to put a fragment of my crown 
 On every head that plans to shatter it. 
 And leave myself the shadow of a king — 
 A memor}^, tinseled o'er with nothingness. 
 What more could you have asked, except my head 'i 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 31 
 
 Yet these, you think, are honorable terms ! 
 
 Crom. Five years of war have wrenched the roots of 
 things ; 
 And not till time turns back can we be where 
 We were. The strife whose bloody foot has left 
 Its print on every hearth, was not a prank 
 To fill a holiday. We started with 
 An object in our eye. Perchance you have 
 An inkling what it was. Those years have placed 
 Us well in reach of it. If you, whose hopes 
 Are dangling from the last thin thread, still snatch 
 For what is gone, be not astounded that 
 We hold to what we have so well in hand. 
 
 C. Is gone ? Ah, feeble jeer ! and feebler still 
 Your boast. You have a blind eye to the facts 
 To think that aught of my prerogative 
 Is gone. I still am king, by Heaven's decree, 
 And these my kingdoms' will ; while you hold but 
 A phantom by the tail, which will elude 
 You ere you are aware. Who butcher well 
 Are not omnipotent. 
 
 B. [To the king]. A word. [They step aside.^ If 
 
 aught 
 Your Majesty retains of secret power. 
 Whose whisper is too sacred for my ear, 
 Think you 'tis wise to trumpet it in theirs? 
 
 [They return. 
 I. Bethink your Majesty what precipice 
 Is by your path, nor tempt its vasty depth. 
 Once o'er, a crown would scarcely break your fall ; 
 And blood has left a slippery standing-place. 
 
 C. As stands a mountain on a thirsty plain, 
 And from its cloud-peaks waters all around, 
 So stand I, and so necessary are 
 
 The fruitful rills and rivulets I give. 
 Remove me, you remove the source of life. 
 
32 OLIVER CKOMWELL. 
 
 Hence I compassionate the country's plight. 
 
 And readily will yield, as Honor gives 
 
 Her fair assent, in what forfends her weal. 
 
 My jealousy has been that honor to 
 
 Defend and the inheritance I hold 
 
 In trust. I would be better understood. 
 
 Then take my warrant that a woman's heart 
 
 Is not more tender than m}^ will. I mean 
 
 To serve j^ou as my wisdom prompts. But Time 
 
 Takes double toll. The wounds that minutes made 
 
 Will take us months to heal ; and years to wreck 
 
 Ask years for building up. Then hold ye in 
 
 Abe3'ance these affairs, till I essay 
 
 To help your wits. Some day you shall receive 
 
 A further word. [Eocemit. 
 
 [To Berkeley.'] What mightinesses these 
 
 Brave pigmies make, strutting in stolen boots ! 
 
 They want my hand to help them out and save 
 
 Their necks. And well are they concerned about their 
 
 necks. 
 They will be more so ere the game is played. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene V. Charles at Sampton Court, alone. 
 
 Major Legg [Entering']. Your Majesty has greater 
 gloom than wont — 
 A gloom that bodes no good to body, while 
 The mind may grow bewitched and sodden in 
 Its moods. Look to the credit side of your 
 Affairs and see a cause for cheerfulness. 
 Your royalty is round you like a robe. 
 Your innate greatness is illustrious still. 
 Your circumstances feed the flame of hope. 
 Then seat yourself beneath the dais of 
 Yourself — your philosophic self — gristled 
 In every limb, and stanch in soul. So shall 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 33 
 
 The monarch's majesty beseem the orb 
 That liglits the satellites of state. 
 
 Charles. Words leave 
 
 The lips like oil, yet fail to lubricate 
 The inward gear. Thank God, you know not what 
 It is to be a cast-off king ; to sink 
 Into the quicksands, down from care to care : 
 To sink, I say, beneath the burdens of 
 The realm, and feel a something under you. 
 As 'twere the claws of Death, which pull upon 
 The feet, resolved to have the head. Ah, Legg! 
 Some dragon fate has got its hold ujDon 
 Me. Dark days have their darker nights. To tell 
 The dreams that prey upon my mind and waste 
 My flesh, would turn thee into stone. 
 
 L. Dreams go 
 
 By contraries, the wise ones say, as sleep 
 And wakefulness are opposites. Myself 
 I have a thousand dreams ere aught in fact 
 Is like enough to be half cousin to 
 The last. Would we believe an oracle 
 When but each thousandth word had show of truth ? 
 
 C. But when our dreams have full agreement with 
 Portentous signs, the double meaning must 
 Not have our slight. You know the night on which — 
 When evil powers had riot in the storm — 
 Through some malicious one, my lamp went out 
 And left a horrid darkness in the room. 
 That darkness had a meaning of its own — 
 A meaning supplemental to my dreams. 
 
 L. The light and darkness were the whimsies of 
 A lamp, which is a mere insensate thing. 
 
 C Why was it in so meaningful a way ? 
 To answer that needs more than human wit. 
 There is a cause at back of all that is ; 
 And not a midge moves but there is a will 
 
34 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 That moves it. By so much the more — as it 
 
 Requires a greater power of intellect, 
 
 Whicli is the lever of a will — does the 
 
 Occult in nature ply responsive to 
 
 A will. Tell me, what will can thwart our will 
 
 And means, producing darkness where was light, 
 
 ]5ut he who breeds dark things, as threatening us 
 
 With a malignant use of power ? for things 
 
 Must match the mold that fashioned them. In all 
 
 His works there is a unity in plan 
 
 And tendency of means. Hence, when a lamp's 
 
 Extinguishment makes darkness, in a way 
 
 That challenges our Avit, coincident 
 
 With darkness that confounds the senses of 
 
 Our friends, and both converging towards a point 
 
 Of ill, — a diabolic unit}'^ 
 
 Is manifest. Ah, Legg ! It were enough 
 
 To stun a world to see a king reduced 
 
 To my extremity. Be sure that ill 
 
 Is inmiinent ; yea, violence against 
 
 My sacredly anointed majesty, 
 
 B>' this fanatical canaille, Avhich has 
 
 No reverence for my royal sanctities, 
 
 Or yet the interests of the realm it rends. 
 
 Rebellion rank as that is raving mad ; 
 
 Nor recks it what the power it tojiples o'er. 
 
 Rejoicing, rather, in the strength of wrath. 
 
 Which laughs to think what havoc it can make. 
 
 L. But Cromwell, who is oracle to them. 
 Has some compunction and relenting ruth. 
 Admit, his motives may not be the best. 
 Yet odds it not what horse may bear you home, 
 Expectant of the meal he may not taste, 
 So 3'ou get safely there. 
 
 C. It staggers him 
 
 To see the part he played, and now to find 
 
OLIVER CKOMWEI.L, 36 
 
 Himself in this predicament. But he 
 
 Has let his lion loose on us, and in 
 
 His helplessness he would undo the done, 
 
 Lest he himself should feel its hungry claws. 
 
 So blind is madness first, and then so weak. 
 
 Nature is such that, in a strait like liis, 
 
 I would not risk a farthing on his aid, 
 
 Were he both soul and body of the whole, 
 
 Of which he is but the detested part — 
 
 The evil spirit dwelling in the whole. 
 
 No, Legg, the head of all must represent 
 
 Himself, nor recognize this traitor brood. 
 
 Behold these walls. For nie they have a tongue. 
 
 Yea, every stone is eloquent, filling 
 
 The present with the past ; yet but to mock 
 
 jM}' tender breast ; Avhile these oppugnant and 
 
 Repugtiant forces urge me to insure 
 
 My personal security as means present. 
 
 Their admonition shall not be in vain. 
 
 Enter Duke of Gloster, attended. 
 
 Gloster. Good-morning, father. Have those men been 
 cross 
 To you ? They looked at me so like a dog 
 That wants to bite, I almost trembled ere 
 I passed the door. 
 
 C. Ah, son ! the morning is 
 
 But ill to me, and may to thee bring worse. 
 
 G. How strange to have them treat a prince like that. 
 
 C. And stranger still that so they treat a king. 
 
 G. Why not command them to the tower ? 
 
 C. Poor child ! 
 
 I wish I were as innocent as thou 
 In thy obtuse simplicity. 
 
 G. They tell 
 
 Me greater men have gone for less aflfront. 
 
36 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 C. Since then the world is turning upside down. 
 
 G. Then what may happen to us if it does ? 
 
 C. I mean, that wicked men have fought against 
 Thy father, and he is a prisoner here, 
 Where years ago he spent his happiest days ; 
 And he, instead of sitting on his throne 
 As king, may find the tower, and — and I know 
 Not what. 
 
 G. Why so ? 
 
 C Nay, they could hardly tell. 
 
 G. Suppose I go to them and ask them why ? 
 
 C They would not answer thee befittingly. 
 They would insult an angel — which thou art. [Aside. 
 
 G. But you are always good ; so good ! If they 
 But knew it as I know they all would love 
 You as I love. 
 
 C. Thy prattle ought to set 
 
 Mankind a-blush,to see their guile beside 
 Thy guilelessness. I know not but we grow 
 In folly as we grow in years. Know thou, 
 Poor child, that they may kill thy father. 
 
 G. Kill 
 
 Their king ? my father ? one so good as you ? 
 Oh, whei'e is God to let them do so ill ? 
 If I were God they all should find the tower. 
 
 C. Ay, ay, my child ! The world is full of ifs. 
 On which we blindly strike our tender shins. 
 Note well what now I say. When I am gone, 
 Thy brother Charles, by right, will be the king. 
 But they will hate him as they hated me. 
 And want to king thee in thy brother's stead. 
 But, as thou lovcst me, consent thou not. 
 
 G. I will be torn to pieces first, I hate 
 The thought of them for hating you, and will 
 Forever hate what pleases them. 
 
 C. Go then, 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 37 
 
 And keep thy father well in mind. Forget 
 Not all the precepts he has given. Be firm 
 In character, and shew thy royal blood; 
 80 shall thy father live again in thee. 
 Oh, may thy years be as the golden calm 
 When evening burns lier incense in the west. 
 
 G. Why go ? I fain would stay. 
 
 C. Go now, and come 
 
 Again. IMake all thou canst of liberty. \ExU Gloster. 
 The tenderest ties are hardest to be broke. [ Weeping. 
 Oh ! what more kingl}'- than to be a man ? 
 And what more manly than to slied a tear 
 That comes from the divinest de])th of soul ? 
 
 L. At entrance of the duke, your Majesty 
 Was at the threshold of a subject in 
 Our thoughts — Ashburnham, Berkeley, and myself. 
 We have matured a plan for your escape ; 
 And we can serve you when the twilight glooms. 
 
 C. To-night? 
 
 L. To-night, while all our hearts are hot. 
 
 From purgatory into paradise. 
 The step comes none too soon. 
 
 C. Your tidings come 
 
 As 'twere a fortune to a pauper's liorae. 
 As good, I hope, will be results. You have 
 A plan, you say ? 
 
 L. A plan contingent on 
 
 Your Majesty's consent. 
 
 C. Consent indeed ! 
 
 Ask my consent to keep my crown. What need 
 You next ? 
 
 L. When twilight deepens into dusk, 
 
 I will contrive to be upon the lawn 
 And wave my handkerchief three times to shew 
 That three white doves expand their wings to bear 
 Yuu hence. The whither to, your Majesty 
 
38 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Will choose when on the way. 
 
 C. Well thought ; and may 
 
 It be well wrought ! But, lest our all depend 
 Upon a gossamer, we must consult 
 One skilled in more than earthly lore, and have 
 Him scan the aspect of the stars, thence to 
 Divine what indices they give. 
 
 L. We have 
 
 A Avoman with a will to do our will. 
 
 C. Haste her to William Lilly, master of 
 The occult art, with this to speed his wit. 
 
 [ Counting some gold. 
 And may she bring an answer to our mind ! 
 
 [Legg torites a note. Tlien exit. 
 Were I in London, these presumptuous rogues 
 Were as a shoal of shrimps before my net. 
 But what a gulf — those dozen miles — to span ! 
 Though once it was right jocund exercise. 
 To leave the kingdom were an easier task, 
 Provided we can find a trusty ship : 
 So were they in the lurch, afraid to move. 
 While I were free to play my game at will. 
 
 Re-enter Legg. 
 
 L. She is dispatched, and I have signaled for 
 Dispatch to-night. 
 
 C. Then j^ou anticipate ' 
 
 The answer, making so my gold a gift. 
 
 L. Good heaven forbid ! but in my mind has bee 
 Tlie livelong day, the iteration of 
 A word, repeated as it were the tick, 
 Tick, ticking of a clock — to-night, to-night. 
 To-night. It came not as a servant, but 
 As master of the will. Nor wholly in 
 My sleeping or my wakeful hours ; but at 
 The birth-hour of the day the unseen power 
 
OLIVKR CROMWELL. 39 
 
 Had wound my spirit up ; and it has kept 
 
 It's tick, tick, ticking in mo ever since. 
 
 And, verily, I think it worth our heed. 
 
 For who, or what, should guide our mental gear, 
 
 In those invohintary grooves, but lie 
 
 Who made it? Then, methinks, 'tis well we should 
 
 Have ears to hear, as said the priest this morn. 
 
 C. Then what instructions ask you for the gold ? 
 
 Zi. To tell what hour will guarantee success 
 To our emprise. 
 
 C. God grant he read aright ! 
 
 Then may each rebel scratch his head till bald. 
 And stare his fellow blind. 
 
 X. A righteous prayer, 
 
 Deserving two amens. To whither would 
 Your Majesty escape ? 
 
 C. To France, were time 
 
 And circumstance in trim. But they, I fear, 
 Have need to lie in dr^^-dock for repairs, 
 Compelling us to take some jolly-boat 
 Of Fortune, and strike out for nearest land. 
 
 i. The Isle of Wight would give meet shelter till 
 A ship were found. 
 
 C. Its governor dyed his hands 
 
 In loyal blood. 
 
 L. Yet not ferociously. 
 
 As one whose heart was flaming hot with ire, 
 But one whose easy indolence succumbed 
 To importunity. Some of your friends 
 Are his ; the thouglit of wliom may come between, 
 As comes love's tender gift to motherhood 
 'Twixt man and wife. The august majesty 
 Of royalty withal would turn the scale, 
 Already half inclined, to honor's side. 
 Moreover, all are subtly bound in lieart. 
 Hence those who hate us absent, seeing us, 
 
40 OLIVER CROMAVELL. 
 
 Ma}' love ; since, in our absence, Fancy makes 
 Her raoods the proxies for ourselves, until 
 Our presence disenchants her eye, when lo ! 
 Our enemy becomes idolator. 
 But thei'e the woman comes. 
 
 G. Would that all else 
 
 Might move with like alacrity. Bid her 
 
 Come in. \Ex.it Legg. Returns with the woman. 
 \To woman^ Thou hast been nimble as a hare. 
 
 W. They need have nimbleness who serve the king. 
 
 C Thy word deserves the favor of a king. 
 What message hast thou that may serve thy king? 
 
 W. I wish your Majesty had seen his face. 
 The instant he began to trace his chart. 
 The sight was better than a shilling show. 
 It seemed as though the very stars were in 
 His eyes, and in his smile the twinkle of 
 Their light. I watched his finger trace from north 
 To south, and east to west — as though the heavens 
 Were but a spelling-book. And there he found 
 The heavenly houses, and consulted with 
 The lords, and every consultation made 
 His visage brighter still. 
 
 C But prythee, tell 
 
 Us what he said. 
 
 TF. 'Twas wonderful to be 
 
 So near to heaven. It made me tingle to 
 My finger-ends. 
 
 (J. What message did he send ? 
 
 TF. Oh yes ! He sent it b}' a word-of -mouth, 
 That none might pick one's pocket by the way. 
 
 C. TFhat said he then ? 
 
 TF. That all the signs agree 
 
 On six o'clock. Naught undertaken then 
 Can fail ; since 'tis the turning point between 
 The moons. But it must be exactly six, 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 41 
 
 Before the balance 'twixt the lioiirs be lost. 
 
 C. Good service earns good pay. Here is a pound. 
 
 \Eiiit JVbnian. 
 She gave a curtsey worthy of a queen. 
 
 S. Note the coincidence. The something in 
 My mind kept telling me, to-night ; and now 
 These heavenly indices point out the hour. 
 That were enough to satisfy a Turk ; 
 Much more a Christian king. 
 
 C. Did she not say, 
 
 Exactly six? 
 
 X. Exactly six. 
 
 C. What time 
 
 Have you ? 
 
 i. Quarter past one, within a tick 
 
 Or two. 
 
 C. I am just twenty minutes past. 
 With such discrepancy Avhat data have 
 We to decide when is exactly six ? 
 
 i. Your Majesty has personal precedence, 
 Which carries with it right of time ; and this 
 Especially since you are first concerned. 
 
 C. Alas ! This life is all uncertainty. 
 And kings, with greatness, have the greater cares. 
 It seems me, I shall strike a line between 
 Your time and mine, and so again maintain 
 A balance twixt extremes. Meanwhile, I have 
 To \vrite some letters. Then adieu to here. 
 Then what will follow that adieu ? Alas ! 
 Time tells no secrets even to a king ; 
 Though favored ones may filch a hint or two. 
 Another week will shuffle all my cards. 
 
42 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene I. The army at CorkhusJtJidd. 
 
 Birch \^0n a barrel]. Soldiers ! Englislimoii ! Saints ! 
 Remind ye all, 
 That better blood than that within your veins 
 Is not on earth. Titles and monkeyish 
 Deceits there are, by which a lazy few 
 Have found excuse for feeding on our sweat 
 And blood. But say ye all, and once for all : 
 Shall we be dogs, and they our fleas ? 
 
 Shouts. No, no ! 
 
 S. I knew your English blood would not consent. 
 Yet English hands have earned the bread they eat. 
 Feed them no more and they must earn their own. 
 The Maker of us all made men of all. 
 Hence all must have the common rights of men ; 
 And they, but men, must have no more than men. 
 Then, since the rich have more than is their right, 
 Of what is more 'tis right they should be shorn. 
 As men, then, let us ask and take our rights. 
 I ask a question. Give your hearts free play, 
 And let their answer leap from burning lips : 
 Shall we, who made, and noAV have saved, the land 
 Be churls, while the}-, who only squander what 
 We get, are gentlemen ; while yet with them 
 Ourselves have equal English blood ? 
 
 Shouts. Xo, no ! 
 
 -B. Then shew ye are not slaves. Maintain your 
 rights ; 
 For if ye slight your rights, your rights will slight 
 You in revenge. Away with kings, and all 
 The vermin swarming round the throne ! The saints 
 Are kings to God. Trust not to parliament. 
 We are the parliament of parliament, 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 43 
 
 And higlicr king or parliament is not. 
 As kings, then, let us rule ; as parliament, 
 Deprive ungodliness of what it has 
 Usurped. 
 
 Shouts. We will, we will ! 
 
 -S. What physic have 
 
 We that can cure a sick and bastard king ? 
 
 Shouts. An axe ! 
 
 -S. Ye speak as prophets of the Lord. 
 
 But who shall be the doctor ? 
 
 Shouts. We. The saints. 
 
 Ji. Ay, ay ! For some who once were brave of speech 
 Are flunking now. 
 
 A Voice. Who? 
 
 -S. Who is that who sees 
 
 Not what a blind man ought to see ? Who had 
 The king in hand and let him go ? Who knew 
 And told the parliament when he escaped ? 
 Who, ever since, has had a soft word for 
 The runaway ? Don't dead leaves, dropping, shew 
 Which way the wind blows ? Who ? you ask. Ask 
 
 him 
 Who feared some harm might hap the king. Ask him 
 Who calls him now, his Majesty. Ask him 
 Who fed him like a fighting cock. Ask him 
 Who prayed so much with us, while yet he brooked 
 The royal mummeries. Ask him ; for he 
 Can tell you all you wish to know ; and wliat 
 'Twere better none had never known. This makes 
 Our duty plain. When friends forsake we must 
 Befriend ourselves. 
 
 Shoxds. Fairfax comes ! The general ! 
 
 B. What trumpery of the tongue ! A general! 
 A soldier gentlemen ! A mighty lord ! 
 I call him Tom — plain, good old-fashioned Tom — 
 A name full good enough for any man. 
 
 [ Cheers in the distance. 
 
44 OLIVER CROMAVELL. 
 
 Who cheers is knave in heart or fool in mouth. 
 Look to the papers in your hats, " England, 
 With liberty, and soldiers' rights." That ought 
 To make your hearts thump like a drum. 
 
 First Voice. England 
 
 Hurrah ! 
 
 Second V. And liberty. 
 
 Third V. And soldiers' rights. 
 
 jB. [Stepjnng doion]. Stand by your rights though 
 death and hell say nay. 
 
 A Voice. Fairfax is deatli and Cromwell hell. 
 
 [Miirfax approaches to address them. 
 
 JSeco7id Voice. Hearken 
 
 To what he has to say. 
 
 First V. Hush ! Death would prate. \Lmighter. 
 
 Fairfax. Soldiers and fellow Englishmen, attend ! 
 Our countiy is a tree, whose fruit sustains 
 Us all. Strike ye the trunk, ye strike the life 
 Of all ; but dig and dung about it, fruit 
 Will be for all. Now is the springtime, when 
 It needs your care ; and as j'ou give that the 
 Return will be. Then count as yours who are 
 Old England's friends, and those her friends who are 
 The friends of all. " England, with liberty. 
 And soldiers' rights," I see is in your hats. 
 With England and your liberty you have 
 Your rights; which rights your own right arms have won. 
 Then put those gauds away, and deeper write 
 Old England on your hearts ; so deeply, that 
 Your loyal deeds will prove 'tis there. 
 
 Shouts. Ha, ha ! 
 
 Collar ourselves and give the rich the chain. 
 Granny, go home ! The leeches want our blood. 
 Open our mouth and shut our eyes and gulp 
 Whate'er you send us. Not so mouthy quite. 
 Oh, tweedle-dum-dee ! and cannot we see ? 
 
OLIVER CUOMWKLL. 45 
 
 F. I call on you, as Eni^jishmcn, to strip 
 Those papers from your hats. 
 
 Shouts. Bring you the king 
 
 To take tliem out. Away with king and lor'ds ! 
 
 Croinwcll. Take out tliose, I command, at once. 
 
 -C- Come take 
 
 Tiiem out who can. 
 
 C. [To a company of soldiers]. Come on to loyal 
 woi"k. 
 Come on, brave lads. 
 
 [They folloio him on the double quick. 
 
 A Voice. Now lads ! now lads. 
 
 C. Seize ye 
 
 That prating knave. Take these two rogues. And this. 
 Take ye those three. 
 
 A Voice. Will no one help ? 
 
 C. Take him. 
 
 A Voice. Where's Birch ? 
 
 Another. Making provision for his 
 
 health. 
 
 C. Those two. Out with your papers, all ; at once, 
 Or off you go. [They obey.] 'Tis well ye all obey. 
 [ Fourteen are taken to headquarters ; whom C. addresses. 
 What think ye of yourselves, that ye who gave 
 Your names, your arms, your honors, to defend 
 The laws, are tramplers on the laws ? to save 
 The realm, are rebels 'gainst the realm ? to check 
 A lawless king, would make yourselves worse kings, 
 And leave us not tlie tatters of a law ? 
 Think ye we want a thousand kings, when we 
 Are sick of one ? a thousand kings, who know 
 No more of kingcraft than a bulldog of 
 The moon ? a thousand kings, bred to the axe. 
 The saw, the spade, turning your soldier caps 
 To crowns ? Think ye we want such kings to rule, 
 Who know so little how to rule themselves. 
 
46 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 That ye stick uji yourselves to mock us to 
 The teeth, in this defiant way ? Know ye, 
 Your lives are forfeit to the laws ye have 
 Defied. Ye ask the trial of the king 
 For trampling on the laws. Ye then, who want 
 To king it in the self -same way, shall try 
 Tlie sauce ye recommend, by being tried 
 For this your breakage of the laws. So now 
 Prepare yourselves for what ye think the king 
 Deserves. Now, generals, to the work in hand. 
 
 \^A few moments in conference y then Fairfax 
 addresses the prisoners. 
 
 F. Soldiers ! It saddens me to tliink that ye, 
 Who earned so well your country's praise, shouM die 
 At last her enemies. Your crime is such 
 A greater cannot be. Ye set the laws 
 At nought, defy your oflicers, and turn 
 The army to a rabble. Know ye then, 
 That ye are rebels in the hands of law, 
 Whose eager lead would hasten on your doom. 
 What say ye? {^A pause.] Nothing? Then ye own 
 
 that there 
 Is nothing to be said ; and that is true. 
 Justice and Death are twins, so like we know 
 Them not apart. And Justice as a left 
 Hand holds, while Death as right hand smites. Then 
 
 deem 
 Yourselves as dead. Yet Death himself, when he 
 Has wrenched the hapless body with his ills, 
 Full oft relents and gives it back to health 
 And joyance for a time. So we restore 
 You all, save three, from what ye all have earned ; 
 Which three we now select. [ Crotnwell selects them. 
 
 C. Stand out. 
 
 F. Now go, 
 
 The rest of you, and deem your lives a gift ; 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 47 
 
 Foi" which ye are indebted to our ruth. 
 
 But know ye, Justice will not spare again. 
 
 Ye three will now cast lots which one shall die. 
 
 [Dice are brought and lots cast. 
 Ye go as dead men snatched again to life. [ 7b the two. 
 Go shew ye know life's worth by living as 
 Ye ought. [They return.] This one will now be shot ; 
 
 and let 
 The rest take heed who do not wish like fate. 
 
 [ The man is shot. Mceunt. 
 
 Scene II. Parliamentary Generals in council at Wind- 
 sor, in a room of the castle. 
 
 Fairfax. I leave it with you whether we have reached 
 The outpost of our duty to the realm; 
 And whether we can longer poise upon 
 A needle's point, in inactivity, 
 And free from fault. I hold, our present deeds 
 Must vindicate our past. The king must be 
 Condemned, or we. He had his foot upon 
 The country's neck. We threw him down, and have 
 Our foot on his. Shall we allow his foot 
 The place it had ? That is tlie question we 
 Must soon decide, or it will scout us and 
 Decide itself. The king's heart, like a tree's, 
 Decays with age. He is as paltering as 
 A Jew, as treacherous as a bog, and as 
 Malignant as a fiend. Nor seems there ground 
 To hope for his amend. We locked the door 
 Of power against him, and we hold the key. 
 So we declared our duty to the realm. 
 Shall we retract and say that we were wrong ? 
 Tliat, or we must pursue the path we chose. 
 I hold, that what is done is right. Hence right 
 It is to make assured it shall not be 
 
48 OLIVER CROM%VELL. 
 
 Undone. Ourselves withal are debtors to 
 Ourselves. We counted not the value of 
 Our lives, but laid them at the country's feet ; 
 And many veins have drained their dearest drops. 
 We owe ourselves the fruits of so much cost. 
 Speak then your minds, as Englishmen ; 
 Then let ns act as Duty gives the word. 
 
 Cromxoell. The realm is servant to the King of kings, 
 Who set the king a servant to the realm, 
 AVhich, hence, has right to call him to account. 
 She found him false to her and bade him pause. 
 His contumacy called out patience that 
 Had put a Job to blush. She cited him 
 To meet her at the bar of battle, where 
 He was condemned. She hoped his glacial heart 
 Might melt, and irrigate the land he froze. 
 His obduracy proves the match of liell. 
 We drop our cates as in a dead man's mouth. 
 For my part, I have aimed at duty's mark, 
 Trying to serve the realm through him the king. 
 In that I stopped at nothing short of life, 
 To make him sensible of duty's claims, 
 And end the stupor of his lethargy, 
 In hope he might arouse, admonished by 
 Experience, to fulfill his trust. So far 
 I went, so much I sacrificed, that men 
 Suspect in me duplicity and deep 
 Collusion ; yea, complicity in guilt. 
 This price I paid, to fiiul my service as 
 A drop of water swallowed by the sea. 
 His heart is as the fate of Lucifer. 
 Now, as our cause was just, and is, while he 
 Remains incurable, I turn and say 
 To Mercy : Hide thou thy insulted face ; 
 To Justice : Do the utmost of thy will. 
 Henceforth I serve the realm without the king, 
 
OLIVKU CROMWKIX. 40 
 
 Treton. Wc want no wary crocodile (o woe]* 
 With open jaws ; no eel wliose tongue is deft 
 In tricks of speech, wliilo yet so slipi)ery that 
 The firmest grasp of faith is liolding on 
 To notliing in tlie end. Methinks our men, 
 Untangled by the webs of sophistry, 
 And one in suppliance at a throne of grace, 
 Are in a purer air than we, with sight 
 To see be}*'ond. Their courage ought to make 
 Us blush, as blush I do to tliink of it. 
 And as the more I tliink,the more I blush — 
 A}', till the blood is mad-hot in my veins — 
 That we, wlio are the masters of the king, 
 Should pause before the memory of his power. 
 Think of our servant faithless to his trust. 
 Think of him having eaten, drank, and worn 
 Our best, then turned and paid us with his fist, 
 And ask : Shall our endurance have no end ? 
 Think of the realm that gave its destinies 
 In trust to us, then ask again : Have we 
 Fulfilled that trust, while still we parley with 
 The cause of all her woes ? We must be right 
 Or wrong. If right, go on. If wrong, retrace 
 Our steps. But right we are as God above 
 Is right. Then let us vindicate the right. 
 
 C. He who jilts Mercy, Justice takes in hand. 
 Here, then, to Justice relegate the king, 
 By executing law without a wince. 
 To that his conduct challenges ; and I 
 Am ready to accept the gage. The laws ! 
 The laws ! The people and the laws must meet 
 Him foot to foot and have it out. Here then, 
 In England's name, I take the gage. Ay, in 
 The triple kingdom's name I take it up. 
 
 [A knock. 
 Who comes? 
 
50 OUVKIl <R()Ar\VEI.I.. 
 
 Enter Sir John Bekkklky. Cromwell sits doion. 
 F. What want you here ? 
 H. His Majesty 
 
 Sends letters to the generals. \JSanding them to Fair- 
 fax.^ Here is one 
 From Colonel Hammond. 
 
 F. To the generals ! Well, 
 Withdraw yourself and wait you at our call. [Exit B, 
 
 I. Another wriggle of the eel, to slip 
 Our grasp. 
 
 G. These letters are the climax of 
 His craft, to drive a wedge between ourselves 
 And parliament, by having us ignore. 
 
 And so renounce it as our master, — which 
 
 It is, — and, by our treating with himself. 
 
 To place him in its stead. While thus his left 
 
 Is offered us, his right hand he extends 
 
 For Scottish lips to kiss. So, with the two, 
 
 He would confound the parliament and serve 
 
 Himself ; in which he would confound us all. 
 
 Confounded be his treachery ! Contempt 
 
 Were an unmerited civility, 
 
 And silence more than liis desert. Yet speech 
 
 Were vainly cast on the Sahara-waste 
 
 Of his malign stupidity. Then let 
 
 Us give the best rebuff we may, to make 
 
 Him sensible that we are sensible 
 
 Of his designs. 
 
 I. In gambler slang he talks 
 
 About his game, in which, as gambler, he 
 Would cheat. Only an honest wariness 
 Can foil his craft. I sanction what is said 
 About rebuffing him. 
 
 Lambert. Let Naseby put 
 
 An echo in his ear until he reels. 
 Remind him that the masters of to-day 
 
OLIVER CUOMWKLL. 51 
 
 Arc not named Charles. Belike, he has forgot. 
 
 Harrison. Think not his craft exhausts itself on us. 
 It is an eye which looks all ways at once. 
 These letters are a segment of a scheme 
 Whose broad periphery holds unimmbered spokes. 
 For while he aims to disunite his foes, 
 lie is intriguing with the riff-raff of 
 The world to let it loose upon them. Hence 
 We need — defense, a pound ; offense, a ton. 
 
 K Call in Sir John. \^Enter Berkeley.'] Infoi'myour 
 master that 
 We have no jurisdiction ; hence no right. 
 Nor yet the wish, to treat with him. We serve 
 The parliament, to which his letters shall 
 Be sent, with Colonel Hammond's, which, no doubt, 
 Is incidental to the king's. 
 
 [^Exit B. Cromwell and Ireton froioning. 
 
 C. Well rid ! 
 
 And better if we never see him more. \^Exeunt. 
 
 Scene HI. Midnight. In a close. Sir John Berke- 
 ley, talking in loio tones xoith a General. 
 
 General. The interests of the king are urging him 
 To flee ; for Carisbrook weaves his shroud, since o'er 
 Against his name the skull-and-crossbones of 
 A fatal purpose has been traced. 
 
 Berkeley. Have all 
 
 Tlie generals part and lot in this ? 
 
 G. You saw 
 
 The vulture frown that on their craggy brows 
 Perched, ready for a swoop of wrath ui)on 
 You, as your errand slipped your tongue. Then were 
 Their feelings under hard restraint, else had 
 You found their talons in your heart. There is 
 An epidemic of disti'ust, which rates 
 
52 OLIVKR CROilWELL. 
 
 The king's word less than one per cent, its face. 
 Hence can I pledge, not one would disapprove 
 Appeal to law's arbitrament, or blink 
 To see the axe. Let his persistence break 
 The bands of their restraint — look out for blood ; 
 And that more sovereign than lias yet been shed. 
 
 B. Such deed was never in a Christian land ; 
 And Heaven forbid that England see it first. 
 Indeed, it is too monstrous to be done. 
 The soul of Horror shudders at the thought. 
 The very heavens would shut tlieir shining eyes 
 And weep ; while earth's great rock}" heart would break. 
 Should men once come to that, this world would scarce 
 Be worth the living in. 
 
 G. His Majesty 
 
 Is bringing them to that. He had his friends, 
 With Cromwell at their head, till friendship smacked 
 Of treason to the realm. A flood-tide in 
 Events there is ; and he who breasts it sinks. 
 The adjutators, with the army at 
 Their back, o'erwhelm the generals until, now, 
 Not one resists. 
 
 B. Can I hold interview 
 
 With Cromwell ? 
 
 G. Ask to place a musket at 
 
 His breast. The cats'-eyes of Suspicion watch 
 His leanings towards the king, whom he would serve 
 Within the limits of the ancient law. 
 The king would not be served, demanding that 
 For which we took the gage, as though 'twere his 
 To give us terms, and ours to take them with 
 A Thank-j^our-Majesty. For one, I hope 
 The king will flee the storm while flight may be. 
 And, in the calm of mental solitude. 
 Perceive the posture of affairs, relax 
 His haughtiness, and be content to take 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 53 
 
 The possible. This chance despised, or foot 
 
 Of tardiness in taking it — farewell 
 
 To crown, to England ; ay, to more than that ! 
 
 J3. Letters I have for Cromwell from the king. 
 
 G. They may not be delivered by yonrself ; 
 Nor wonld I take the service on myself ; 
 For none is suffered to communicate 
 "With you on penalty of death : withal, 
 The labor were not worth a paltry groat. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene IV. Charles at Carishrook, sitting alone. 
 
 Berkeley [Enter in g\. I am amazed to find your Ma- 
 jesty 
 Still here ; whom I supposed some days ago 
 In France, where Danger could not touch you with 
 A finger-tip ; while here it holds you in 
 Its arms, which tighten every hour. 
 
 Charles. Your nerves 
 
 Have lost the equability that lets 
 The soul lie calm as water-lilies on 
 A lake. For my part, I have felt so long 
 My interest flapping in the wavelets, that 
 The very motion causes drowsiness. 
 
 B. Alas, it is a deadly drowsiness ! [Aside. 
 
 C. Meanwhile, the roots may thrive no whit the less. 
 At all events, I am content to wait 
 
 Till Fortune whispers further in my ear. 
 
 B. Wait, while the teeth of Danger graze your skin ! 
 "Wait, while black Doom is laughing at your hopes ! 
 This island is a dungeon, lacking but 
 
 A turnkey at the door ; a lack that will 
 Not be delayed. 
 
 C. You see the surface of 
 Affairs. I feel a ground swell, whose deep force, 
 Unseen, is making for deliverance. 
 
54 OLIVER CBOMWELL. 
 
 S. What means your Majesty ? 
 
 C. The English are 
 
 But a divided house, each half of whicli 
 Will help the other half to fall. The Scots 
 Can make it tumble either way. 
 
 B. " The Scots ! 
 (Pardon me if my zeal outruns my reverence.) 
 A ship had served you better than the Scots ; 
 Not wrenching conscience, while it did your will. 
 The Scots reck not a paltrj' groat what comes 
 Of you, so they be served. To trust them is 
 
 To cast your anchor on a drifting floe. 
 
 C. They cannot bind my conscience with my tongue, 
 And fetter me in slavery with a word. 
 
 To-day is free to meet to-day's demands. 
 
 To-morrow must be free as is to-day. 
 
 What serves me now is the demand of now. 
 
 What serves me hence will be my duty hence ; 
 
 For I must do the best when best it is. 
 
 Of course, their service is to serve themselves. 
 
 But if they round it and we catch the game, 
 
 We need not ask their motive for the chase. 
 
 Moreover, this desire to serve themselves 
 
 Will make them care for me, through whom must come 
 
 The serving of themselves. 
 
 -B. To use you as 
 
 A shoe, then cast you out. 
 
 C Where, think you, will 
 
 My eyes be then ? 
 
 -S. Where are they now ? is far 
 
 More pertinent ; and where the parliament's, 
 With such a nudge as you have given its wi'ath ? 
 Be sure, 'tis neither sleci)ing nor in mood 
 To wait the motions of the Scots. Belike, 
 My letter missed you, or your hopes would turn 
 No eye to England. 
 
OLIVER CROMWKLL. 55 
 
 C Oh ! — the generals of 
 
 An army shattered with its mutinies, 
 Resolve to hurl the incohesive mass 
 At parliament, the country, Scots, Irish, 
 King, world, God, everything ! Yes, I remind 
 Me of the threatened feat ; I do. 
 
 B. I can 
 Assure your Majesty that Windsor has 
 
 A key on Carisbrook that can lock you up 
 
 As safely as a bottled flea. Whj'^, scarce 
 
 A step you take but what it knows the length ; 
 
 Or word escapes your lips and passes by 
 
 Its ear, save as that word is double-locked 
 
 With privacy. Nay, I were loth to swear 
 
 It could not inventory half the thoughts 
 
 That, for a week, have struggled in your mind. 
 
 Thus does it have you in its eye ; yea, in 
 
 Tlie middle of its palm. Then think you it 
 
 Will stand, in blank stolidity, and see 
 
 The Scots convey you thence ! But are 
 
 Tiie Scots more trusty than the parliament ? 
 
 If 'tis your cause they wisli to serve, 3four flesh 
 
 And bones are not essential as the means. 
 
 If you they want, mistrust some barter should 
 
 It serve their ends. Remember Newcastle ; 
 
 As well you may. [-4 pause. 
 
 C. And has a Stuart come 
 To be a thing — a piece of merchandise 
 For men to haggle o'er, like hungry Jews? 
 
 B. They who have found a market value in 
 A king, are tigers that have tasted blood. 
 Remember Newcastle, I say ; which has 
 
 A mouth to drop a word in Carisbrook's ear. 
 Belike, your Majesty will not be deaf. 
 
 C. This morn it pleased me, when I set the dogs 
 Contending for a bono, to think how great 
 
56 OLIVER CRdMAVEI.L. 
 
 Contention I have caused. I realize 
 To-niglit liow hard it is to be tlie bone. 
 You talk escape. Know tlien, my word is given 
 'J'o stay, and ])led<;ed my honor with my Avord. 
 
 B. How pledged your lionor saving with a word? 
 The word then, not j'our lionor, is at stake ; 
 
 And words arc windy things, which till the sails 
 Of our designs and waft us as we steer. 
 
 C. O Berkeley ! It is time I gather up 
 The fragments of ni}' dignity and shew 
 The majesty of kinghood, when they bring 
 INIe thus to bay. I feel a royal glow 
 
 Of indignation, urging me to fling 
 Defiance in their teeth and laugh to scorn 
 Their impotence. I do defy them. I 
 Defy the dirt}' rogues to smut me more ; 
 Defy them to withhold from me the realm. 
 The bird will find its nest, and I my throne. 
 'Tis here, with courage citadeled in faith, 
 I take my stand. 
 
 -B. Prudence gives Courage eyes ; 
 
 And hero you need them. Were you once in France, 
 Your friends would feel that you wore free to act ; 
 Your foes be foiled, and stand in sheer amaze ; 
 And soon the country would demand its king. 
 
 (7. The past has much inscribed on memory's walls 
 That tells of failure, till I weary of 
 Escape that ever puts me farther from 
 The throne. 
 
 B. The problem is, the farthering of 
 Y^'ou from the block. 
 
 C. What, execute a king ! 
 Their lawful king ! Nay, Berkeley, never that ! 
 Not while a drop of England's blood remains. 
 The instinct of the beggar on the street, 
 
 Up to the duke beneath his coronet, 
 
OLIVKR cnOMWICLI-. 57 
 
 Would stir revulsion in their staitlcd souls, 
 Mad they may be, as common madness goes ; 
 But madness cannot bo so mad as that. 
 
 Ji. Call it their madness, or whate'er we may ; 
 It is a madness with a steady nerve ; 
 A madness born like thunder 'mid the clouds 
 Of threatening visages, which tell of strength 
 Behind. There is no incoherence in 
 The madness of tlieir si)eech, but logic — a 
 Relentless syllogism of resolve, 
 Wiiich leaves the one conclusion on their lip. 
 
 C. It cannot be. 
 
 H. Heaven save you from the proof ! 
 
 C. Ah, Berkeley ! I iiave plumbed our nature to 
 Its depth and found a slimy bottom to 
 It all. Think what we may, the world is ruled 
 By craft ; and ever most when cornered in 
 Some strait extremity. This life is war, 
 Where sword must measure lengths with sword, and 
 
 Innce 
 With lance. Craft, with an honest motive at 
 Its back, is goodness good enough to sex've 
 A saint. Not that, liowever, have these knaves, 
 Who court the parliament and fear the king. 
 Their craft is knavish, for a knavish end. 
 And must be worsted with an honest kind. 
 
 B. What kind of craft will blunt an axe's edge? 
 
 C. Tut, tut ! Thou liast the dregs of niglitmare in 
 Thy pate. I warrant thee, their goblin hints 
 
 Come from the gruesome graveyard of their fears. 
 Hence why they sheet themselves to play the ghost, 
 Thinking to shock my reason with the cheat. 
 To make my knees forget their wonted strength, 
 And, while I shake, to steal my royalty. 
 Beshrew me, if I fail to blast their hopes ! 
 
 A knock. Enter Colonel IIammond with guard. 
 
58 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 II. Orders received command tlie be-ivants of 
 Your Majesty to leave the isle to-night. 
 A boat is waiting to convey them hence. 
 
 C. Waiting? 
 
 n. Yes, waiting at the pier to slip 
 
 Her cable and away. 
 
 G. What means it ? and 
 
 With sucli a shock of haste ? 
 
 H. The order first, 
 
 And then your Majesty shall be informed. 
 
 G. Who orders it? 
 
 H. Those whom I serve. 
 
 G. There is 
 
 Unseemliness in such abrupt commands. 
 
 H. My ear belongs to Duty, not Debate. [vl pause. 
 
 C. So, Berkeley, we must part. O trusty friend ! 
 I know not what can compensate me for 
 Thy loss. Thou wert the last star peeping through 
 The clouds, which now close over thee. Who knows 
 What fury may be in the heart of this 
 Dark storm before we meet again ? 
 
 B. I fear 
 
 Me we shall never meet. [ Weeping. 
 
 G. Nay, do not spring 
 
 My heart aleak, and sink me in the sea 
 Of my distress. 
 
 JB. Heaven grant these tears, wliich come 
 
 Too soon, may be my last for you. Better 
 Thej'' were my blood if that had better served. 
 
 G. Take heart. We need but justice on our side 
 To come out right at last. Sure as I am 
 The Lord's anointed, so I have the seal 
 Of His assurance that my cause is just. 
 Which cause is His. Hence He is on my side, 
 Implying that my foes are butting at 
 Omnipotence. Seek harbor Avhere thou canst j 
 
OLIVKU CROMNVKLI,. 69 
 
 And when the ijfale is past, come tliou and share 
 The favor of thy king. 
 
 B. Heaven only knows 
 What buffetings may come between. 
 
 C Perliaps. 
 
 But tliere is boundless sea-room for perliaps. 
 Perhaps our vision is at fault. God grant 
 It may be so. But hap what may, God and 
 Mine own integrity remain ; in which 
 I have a kingdom for tiie soul, beyond 
 The permutations of the outward life. 
 
 IT. Excuse me if I ask your haste. [7b Berkeley.^ 
 But I 
 Am in the stress of duty's urgency. 
 
 C. Farewell ! I never knew the meaning of 
 The word before. 
 
 B. 'Twas never half so sad 
 
 Before, It seems a prophecy of ill. \^Exit with guards. 
 
 C. Explain the why of this atrocious haste. 
 H. The powers that be are cognizant of those 
 
 The Scots, whose machinations compass your 
 Removal hence, and thus are thwarting them. 
 
 C. The doings of the generals, I suppose, 
 To plume their popinjay authorit3\ 
 
 JL The generals, having tortured long their wits 
 To tie the severed threads of amity 
 For those whose hands are red with kindred blood, 
 Abhor the thought of staining them anew. 
 Of this I know full well ; for one of them 
 lias torn concealment from his heart and shewn 
 Me what was not for every eye. 
 
 C. So would 
 
 He have compunction shrive his evil deeds. 
 While he compounds with Justice, to elude 
 The grasp of Retribution. Pious dupe ! 
 Repentance wrung from us with Death's gripe on 
 
60 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Our throat, would vaiuly clicat the evil one. 
 Too well the Devil knows his own for that 
 Device to blind his eyes and rob him of 
 His dues. 
 
 II. ' Cromwell has been )'our friend. To serve 
 You, he adventured nigh beyond his death ; 
 So nigh, another step had swept him off 
 Ilis feet, and sooner swamped your Majesty. 
 
 C. Oh, prudent man ! Like truant schoolboy, he 
 Has wantoned in the shallows, where the splash 
 Of M'ar made merriment ; but feeling now 
 The onrush of the tide whose flood is towards 
 The throne, he seeks a safer standing-place. 
 Such prudence has a palpitating heart. 
 Yet proves politic prescience on his part. 
 So all of them are in a quandary. 
 The sport is ended, and they need a king. 
 But, having labored to eviscerate 
 My royalty, and leave no more than a 
 Mere mummy of prerogative, they want 
 With that to simulate a king. For dread 
 They do to meet a living king. But they 
 Have failed. Nor can they aught without ray free 
 Consent. They still will find me king, without 
 "Whom they can have no hiAV, no order, nor 
 A thread to hold the realm together ; but 
 Stark Anarchy will stride with bloody feet, 
 And hurl the bolts of havoc at the land. 
 Till Chaos monuments their madness o'er 
 Its grave. 
 
 H. I wish your Majest}' a right 
 
 Intei'pretation of events,and a 
 Due homage to necessity. But sure 
 It is that, liitherto, your policy 
 Has put the realm in an oppugnant mood, 
 "Which only change of policy can change. 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 61 
 
 Unwise it is, unhorsed, to flaunt a red 
 Flag in tlie country's face. 
 
 C. Kings have kings' thoughts 
 
 And ways. 
 
 H. And others other tliouglits and ways ; 
 
 And when they clash the weakest finds the wall. 
 Jiiit Duty calls me hence. Wise thoughts be with 
 Your Majesty. {Exit. 
 
 C. Fools deem their betters fools. 
 
 And hence are prodigal of their advice, 
 Which only fools will take. The weakest, says 
 He, thinking multiples are strength ; wliereas, 
 Omnipotence, while everytliing, is but 
 The unit next to naught. The weakest? No ! 
 I represent this One — Omnipotence. 
 And woe to those who find the day of wrath ! [Exit. 
 
 Scene V. Kingston-on-Thames. Hall of the Castle. 
 Duke of Buckingham. What pigmies prank them- 
 selves in giant's mail ! 
 Hodge aping royalty with buckram strut ! 
 To see their madness foaming at the mouth 
 Is fit to make an Etna of one's heart ; 
 Ay, and to send the red-hot lava througli 
 Tiie veins. Our king — our God-anointed king — 
 Is held by their unhallowed hands in dire 
 Duress ; while doom hangs, by a single hair. 
 Above the heads of our nobility. 
 The past foreshadows what is still in store. 
 War it has been these years, with blare and blood — 
 Stark force in carnival upon the grave 
 Of all that made old England once so proud. 
 And war 'twill be so long as these wild beasts 
 Are rampant, till the country's bones are bare. 
 O good my lord ! it maddens me till I 
 
62 OLIVER CEOMWBLL. 
 
 Could wish a thousand skulls were one, and I 
 Might cleave that one and rid the land of this 
 Infection. 
 
 Earl of Holland. Zeal, not madness, save as it 
 May be mad zeal, which dares the Devil to 
 His teeth, is what the day demands. Great deeds- 
 Heroic deeds, are Fortune's currencj'', in which 
 May be the ransom of the king ; and these 
 Are ours ; of which, I trust, we shall not give 
 A niggard's dole. 
 
 B. By the eternal stars ! 
 
 I swear that Buckingham is ready to 
 Be spendthrift for. his king. My blood, my brain, 
 My heart, my very soul is his ; as well 
 Befits a true and loyal lord. Nil crown, 
 111 coronet. Strike out the sun, then woe 
 Betides his satellites. 
 
 H. That minds me of 
 
 My dream but yesternight. Sleep left my lids, 
 Refusing to be wooed, Avhen horrid thoughts. 
 For an attenuated hour, stole like 
 So many serpents through my mind and slimed 
 My senses o'er with chills. At length, I slept 
 And dreamt. The inky clouds were blotted o'er 
 The sky, and earth was glum as Winter in 
 Tlie dumps ; Avliile Nature was disconsolate 
 As disappointed Love. I wore my cheeks 
 To wrinkles with the runnels of my tears ; 
 For I was as tlie hue and liumor of 
 The day. But suddenly the sun emerged, 
 In all-diffusive splendor, when my heart 
 Gave three hard thumps — the sign of luck — and I 
 Awoke, to find a messenger arrived 
 With tidings of uprisings for the king ; 
 On which, I felt most guilty that I lay 
 Supine, with glory's trumpet blaring iu 
 My ears. 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 63 
 
 B. That dream is prophecy, at back 
 
 Of which tlie tidings tnimpot us to arms ; 
 And, by Jove's tliunder, I shall not be deaf ; 
 Else, may that thunder strike me doubly dead ! 
 But first the tidings in their amplitude. 
 
 // Pembroke keeps Cromwell at his futile task. 
 At Maidstone, Fairfax came within an ace 
 Of round defeat ; and everywhere he finds 
 The country' as a common thick with gorse, 
 Which tears his forces every step he takes. 
 Lord Goring has an army swooping down 
 On London ; while Capel and Lucas keep 
 The rebels tied to Colchester. In fact. 
 The country is a warren, where the king's 
 Friends leap from every bush ; the like of which 
 Has not been seen before. Yet here we are. 
 As idle as a pair of iron dogs. [Enter the Jester. 
 
 £. Such tidings give more cheer than tuns of 
 wine, 
 And call for pikes and muskets to the front. 
 What muster can we make of bone and thew ? 
 I ween the beck of Buckingham will bring 
 A thousand yeomen to the rendezvous, 
 With hearts as lusty as a king could ask. 
 
 a. And Holland's word is worth a thousand more. 
 
 Tommy, the Jester. My master's dish has need to grow 
 to fill 
 So many mouths. 
 
 // Yes, Tommy ; but with mouths 
 
 To clean the dish are hands to fill again. 
 
 T. A thousand men a-making furmity ! 
 
 If. No, doing glorious deeds by ridding us 
 Of rebels. 
 
 T. How ? 
 
 JK By killing them. 
 
 T. I see. 
 
04 oi.iVKie V iJ(m\vKLL. 
 
 And making vobol broth of them to fill 
 The aisli. 
 
 // I I'oar the broth wouki poison us. 
 
 2' Innvare then of the meat. But what will fill 
 The dish ? 
 
 //. These men will save the king, and sd 
 
 Save all of us. 
 
 T. If they can save the king 
 
 And all of us, what need we of a king ? 
 
 H. Without a king, to wear the crown and liave 
 Authority, the kingdoms have no head. 
 
 7' All this ado to get a man to wear 
 A crown and use authority ! Odds me ! 
 But I could wear a crown, with tangles to 
 My toes, and, with enough authority. 
 Kick all of you to Scotland, and swell out 
 ]\[y head as big as lifty cabbage-heads. 
 So why not make me king ? 
 
 H. ^^"hy. Tommy, kings 
 
 Are groat and grand, living in palaces. 
 
 T. Give me the palaces and I will live 
 In them, then be as grand as you will pay 
 For, and as great as grouse and hares can make me. 
 
 H. But few, I ween, would care to make thee 
 king. 
 
 7! The world is full of fools, who call me fool. 
 The difference 'twixt us is in this : I know 
 3Iyself a fool, and so am wise ; they take 
 Themselves for wise, and so are fools. Thej' spit 
 The earth in face and call her lout, then cry 
 I^ike babies for the n\oon to play with, .nnd 
 Grow dumpish when it baffles them. England 
 Spurns Tommy and boo-hoos for Charles, when, did 
 She know it. Tommy were the cheaper king. 
 
 H. Take care, or Tommy may be rebel, rank 
 As Cronnvell, Fairfax and the rest, and black 
 
OI.IVKU CROMWKIX. 05 
 
 As night with neither moon nor star. 
 
 r. Small odds 
 
 'Twixt fools and rebels if the rebels all 
 Are fools. Small odds 'twixt day an<l nigliU The day 
 l''or deeds, and night for dreams. But whether deeds 
 Make dreams for night, or dreams make deeds for day, 
 Would take a greater fool than me to tell. 
 Heliko, 'tis both ; for what wc eat makes dreams, 
 And what we dream gets fashioned into deeds. 
 
 IT. Now, Tommy, take thy riddle by the tail. 
 And turn it round that wo may see its head. 
 
 T. Nay, good my lord ; when sucli like riddles leave 
 Our heads they are but tales, which wag as wagged 
 Our tongues, 
 
 II. Tiien give us further tale about 
 
 The deeds and dreams, 
 
 T. Your lordship's deeds dispose 
 
 Of beef and ale, which, by some alchemy 
 Within, arc turned to dreams ; and then the dreams, 
 Digested in the maw of Fate, are turned 
 To deeds. Thus arc your dreams of noble stuff, 
 Begetting kindred deeds ; while Tommy's, made 
 Of furmity, have Fool tattooed upon 
 The foreheads of them all. 
 
 B. Would beef and ale 
 
 Breed wise dreams in a fool ? 
 
 T. Last niglit they did. 
 
 B. Praj' tell us how. 
 
 T. Luck had a merry mood 
 
 And gave me beef and ale, which bred a dream 
 Tiiat were a credit to a king. 
 
 // Tell it. 
 
 And let us judge its quality. • 
 
 T. The day 
 
 Was sulking in a drizzle, with the night 
 At hand, and I was trudging on a jaunt : 
 
66 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 When, right anent ray nose, a pit yawned, not 
 
 Two feet across. For aught I knew, it was 
 
 A hole bored through the earth to let rogues drop 
 
 Into tlie nether pit. But, being more 
 
 A fool than rogue, I thought to clear it at 
 
 A jump. Stock-still, I scratched my pate, in hope 
 
 To find a grain of lucky wit ; when, as 
 
 I scratched, the hole grew full four feet. I spat 
 
 Upon my hands, and lo ! six feet it was 
 
 Across. My resolution got upon 
 
 Its mettle then, and I was on the bend. 
 
 When something grabbed me by the scruff and said, 
 
 " Beware, trust not the resolutions born 
 
 On rainy days ! " The hole was eight feet wide. 
 
 But, not to wed a coward to a fool, 
 
 I jumped. Alack ! Had I gone up instead 
 
 Of down the moon had found a fool. Then I 
 
 Awoke to hear a gurgle at the eaves. 
 
 Belike, your lordships hear it raining now. 
 
 B. A fool's dream after all. 
 
 T. A wise dream by 
 
 A fool. 
 
 IT. There, this cl^version is enough. [£Jxit Tommy. 
 
 B. Tommy has fool-vvnt for fool-dreams. But dreams. 
 Belike, are as their source. When noble minds, 
 In the soul's inner solitude, behold 
 Unbodied things, a noble quality 
 Is in their dreams ; and yours were worthy of 
 A king, as it was for a king, and sent 
 Withal conjunctive with events that give 
 It their attest. To action then. Our force 
 Is full two thousand, of the stanchest stuff 
 That England has to shew, with everything 
 To win, and everything to make them win. 
 That force is worth its quadruple of three 
 Short months ago ; as much of three to come. 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 67 
 
 Thus we awake at the alarum bell 
 Of Providence. The rebel strength, dispersed 
 In fragments, and engaged in futile siege, 
 Leaves us the freedom of the hurricane. 
 Once in the field, our besom soon will sweep 
 The litter of their forces from our path ; 
 Courage will nerve the country's heart, and we 
 Shall find our army growing as we march. 
 
 II. Time is prime factor now. Days are as weeks. 
 Weeks montlis. When can we be arrayed, ready 
 To give the trumpet answer with our step ? 
 
 B. One week and Buckingliam will rendezvous. 
 
 H. Agreed. One week and Kingston's cocks will 
 crow 
 At tramp of Holland's men. Speed is our word. 
 God grant the word may find its match in deeds ! 
 
 \Ex,eunt. 
 
 Scene VI. A group of rustics opposite an inn at a 
 country fair. A singer selling ballads. 
 
 Singer. Come, loyal hearts, and hear a loyal song. 
 First Rustic. Pray, what is loyal nowadays ? 
 S. The song. 
 
 First H. Sing. Loyalty, like measles, may be catch- 
 ing. [He sings. 
 
 O green-clad isle ! O sea-washed isle ! 
 
 The fairest under heaven ! 
 W^e lose the light of thy dear smile. 
 
 Because thy heart is riven. 
 A dreadful dern has bowed thy head, 
 
 As bows the bearded barley ; 
 The rose-bloom red thy face has fled, 
 
 In pining for thy Charley. 
 
 Oh, Charley is a bonny name ; 
 And bonny he who bears it i 
 
68 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Ay, bonny is the country's fame 
 Whose throne so proudly wears it. 
 
 But woe's-a-nie that Englislimen 
 Shouki be so blind and snarly, 
 
 They whip us wheti we ask again 
 For our own darling Charley ! 
 
 By day, the wood- wind wails and sighs ; 
 
 B}"- night, the sad owl screeches ; 
 The sea-wave drops its head and dies 
 
 In sobs along the beaches. 
 Then lend an ear to l*ity's call ; 
 
 No more let faction parley ; 
 But, ere we all shall faint and fall, 
 
 Oh, give us back our Charley. 
 
 First R. Bah ! black-sheep loyalty, which needs a 
 knife. 
 
 Second R. Heaven sour their porridge who have got 
 the king. 
 
 Third JR. Trust them for eating porridge, sour or 
 sweet. 
 
 Second Ji. Heaven plague the traitor crew at any rate. 
 
 First Ji. Hell might prefer to undertake the task. 
 In honest wrath, to find them in its way. 
 
 Third li. Where stand'st thou on the question of the 
 king ? 
 
 First Ji. About the middle ; and it circles me 
 Without an eiul, 
 
 Tliird Ji. There needs a break in things 
 
 To make an end. 
 
 First H. A break might make two ends — 
 
 An end of Charley and of thee. 
 
 Third Ji. Things were 
 
 Not worse were doomsday here. 
 
 First Ji. That may be what 
 
 We need, to rake the dead kings from their dust, 
 And get them and the quick at loggerheads 
 While other folk have oeaoe. 
 
 Third Ji. ^'^v, loggeiheads 
 
OLIVKU CUOMWSLL. 69 
 
 We have, but not the peace. 
 
 First R. One loggerhead 
 
 Against the reahn. 
 
 Fourth K. [From behind], I hear a tongue that trips 
 It to a traitor's tune. 
 
 First R. [Turning]. I liear a tongue 
 That serves an addled skull. 
 
 Fourth R. Takest thou me 
 
 To bo a ehicken-heart ? 
 
 First R. Chicken or goose, 
 
 The heart is illy stirred that stirs thy tongue 
 To make so ill a prate. 
 
 Second R. God give us back 
 
 Our Charley. 
 
 First R. lie has better use for him. 
 
 And may have better still when reckoning comes. 
 
 Third R. We want no mean-bred chaps, who need a 
 dame 
 To keep their noses clean, to mountebank 
 As kings. 
 
 First R. Cromwell, they say, has king's blood in 
 His veins, liut he has acted as befits a king. 
 And he has been more kingly than the king ; 
 Wiiile Charley played the mountebank. 
 And, by his clumsy vaultings, lost a throne. 
 
 Second R. AVe need a head to keep the body safe. 
 
 First R. Ill serves the head that cannot kec}) itself. 
 A cabbage-head were worth a dozen such. 
 
 Fifth R. [Just come ?/;>]. Treason ! treason ! Here 
 is a fellow talks 
 Against the king. 
 
 First R. And prythee who is king ? 
 
 The fellow bottled up in Carisbrook, with 
 The thumb of Cromwell for a cork ? No, no. 
 Tho king's king is the king for me. 
 
 F/th R. Wait till 
 
70 OLIVKU CKOMWKM.. 
 
 Tic pjcts liis (liu's, and that will cork thy gab. 
 
 Jurst Ji. Ay, whi'ii I'tornit}^ is worn away. 
 ThiH king of thino would king it o'er the soul. 
 Tho I)t!vil has his wits, and Kngland lie 
 Would mortgage to the Devil, and ask Heaven 
 To ride us down to ruin. But a power 
 There is across this Baalim's j)ath, with sword 
 or llame. Let C'arisbrook answer him who doubts. 
 
 Ifourth It. Thou ranting recusant ! Some gibbet 
 aciies 
 To get thee in its arms ; and get it will 
 Befon^ the autumn wears its weeds : so sure 
 As all the signs in heaven and earth agree. 
 That blazing star fell not last night for nought ; 
 Nor IMasiin's cow brought forth a calf, pied with 
 A crown, for nought : nor is old London mad 
 To get her Charley back for nought ; nor is 
 The ])ibroach i)ii>ing up the Scots for nought. 
 I tell thee, sonu' cross-road will have a s])ot 
 To sliew thy dangling bones. 
 
 ^Ixth Ji. A sight to please 
 
 Thy king. 
 
 J^\)urth R. Another traitor here ! 
 
 /S7.iVA R. Traitor 
 
 Is he who serves a traitor king ; and lie 
 A traitor king who breaks the laws. Well dost 
 Thou threaten in his name. But know thou, lio 
 Who jutlges so shall so be judged, though king 
 lie be ; for there is One to whom a king 
 Is common clay, nnd in whose scales the crown 
 Is on the debit side. I>ut tell nie, why 
 Art. thou so whist about, the Welch ? What sign 
 Was that when Cromwell bent them o'er his knee 
 And slapped obedience into them ? And wliat 
 When he shall make the Scots rcs[)e(^t the rod ? 
 Thy signs will need ani>thcr gyi>sy then. 
 
(tl.IVKi: CKO.MWKI.L. 71 
 
 Fourth R. To-morrow's wind may not be measured by 
 To-day's. 
 
 First Jl. Thy wind will not when Charley gets 
 His duos. 
 
 Seventh R. My Jack was wee when first the strife 
 Bt't^an ; but now he works, a lusty lad. 
 Through all those years it has boon kill and waste, 
 And wasto and kill, till every family 
 Is dressed in black. O lads, it sickens me 
 To think of it ! For pity's sake, I think, 
 'Tis time to stop, for all the odds I see 
 It make to us ; except it be to cost 
 Us sore in blood and store. 
 
 [ The village crier rings his bell. 
 What bruit is this 
 Mid-fair ? 
 
 Crier. Glory to God ! who wreathes afresh 
 Old England's brow. The Scots are beaten till 
 Their carcasses strew half of Lancashire. 
 Ten thousand prisoners are in Cromwell's hands, 
 Besides their stuff, too much to reckon up. 
 So evermore may God defend the right ! 
 
 Shouts. Hurrah for England ! Hip, hip, hip, hurrah ! 
 
 Fourth R. That's glorious news. 
 
 Second R. The lousy Sandy's have 
 
 Their fill at last. 
 
 First R. Now who is king ? 
 
 Fourth R. England 
 
 Is king. 
 
 First R. England indeed ; not Charley's ghost. 
 
 Sixth R. With fifty lives ho could not well as this. 
 He never did a deed that made us proud. 
 He never made a ])romise that he kept. 
 Except it were the Devil had his word. 
 Because we humbly asked him for our rights, 
 He slapped us with an army in the face : 
 
'72 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 And blood lias flowed from that day unto this. 
 
 First a. He brought a madcap prince to harry us. 
 He held up England like a toothsome cate, 
 That foreigners might come and suck her strength. 
 He brought tlie Irish papists to our sliores. 
 He stirred the Welch to strike us to tlie hilt. 
 He hired the Scots to rob and murder us. 
 And take himself, when shewing bravest grain, 
 It was in stabbing at his country's heart. 
 Nay, tell us what he has not tliat is mean, 
 Unkingly, damnable ? And now that he 
 Is caged, he roars in helpless wrath, to prove 
 Tiiat still he thirsts for English blood. Long as 
 He lives he will but be a thorn to us. 
 Only by dying can he do us good. 
 
 Third M. Thou hast a mile and fifty thousand rods 
 Of gab. Thy tongue is like a flail, and thou 
 Hast threshed the village till it aches. 
 
 Seventh R. High time 
 
 It is we had an end. At all events, 
 The lousy Scots have got their fill. 
 
 Sixth R. It is 
 
 To answer, whether all these years of war 
 And woe shall count for nought, and gibbets, filled 
 With Englishmen, be hung by every road, 
 Because we love the English laws. The Scots, 
 Whom thou despisest, are his hope who is 
 Thy hope, who brought this war and woe. The Scot's 
 Blood in him leans that way. But England's life 
 Is not in Charley's breath ; for she has flogged 
 Both him, Scot, Welch, and Irish, one by one, 
 Proving we need not such a nobody. 
 They who have got him are the greater king. 
 
 Second It. The topmost dog is often in the wrong. 
 
 Sixth R. But here we know the under dog is wrong; 
 And certainly the upper dog is best. 
 
OLIVKU CUOMWELL. 7^ 
 
 Tliird JR. Who made tli y liond so big to judge a king ? 
 
 Sixth R. A little head may kiiow that horsebcans are 
 Not gingerbread ; that black is black ; that black 
 And white are two ; and that a king's lie is 
 A eonunon lie. And this great king of thine 
 Is liar o'er and o'er ; ay, fifty of 
 
 The common kind could be no worse. Think'st thou 
 His kinghood makes his sin less sin than ours, 
 To Ilim who sees all in their nakedness ? 
 He who is most a man is most a king. 
 
 Fourth M. No telling what this Cromwell were if once 
 A king. They say he is a canting knave, 
 A mouthing hypocrite, who hates the church. 
 Then liefer would I trust a dog to keep 
 My dinner, or a lawyer w'\i\\ my purse, 
 Than such to keep my soul. His soldiers, too, 
 They say, have such a prate of holy things 
 As ill befits their quality. Suppose 
 Him king, and these rapscallions ranting in 
 The church, polluting with their bawdries what 
 Is not intended for our common touch. 
 It were enough to turn tlie moon to blood. 
 
 Sixth R. Thou lickspit ! Thinkest thou thy fellow- 
 man 
 Can keep thy soul, who cannot keep his own? 
 That amices, and stoles, and surplices, 
 And holy flunkeyisms, satisfy 
 The Maker of the soul ? or that He spurns 
 An Englisliman with honest speech upon 
 An honest lip ? I would not screw my soul 
 Down to the point where it could think such thoughts. 
 Men buy not sanctity at draper's shops ; 
 Nor get it from a bishop's finger-ends : 
 Bishop withal by grace of godless king. 
 But, as the dew, it filters from above. 
 On every heart that opens like a flower. 
 
74 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Know thou, that Cromwell, though far kingliei* than 
 The king, is asking no one to be king. 
 Yet here, forsooth, — because he makes no odds 
 'Twixt children whose true mother's name was Eve, 
 But sweeps the path between their souls and God, — 
 Thou deemest him a knave. Would God we had 
 More knavery of the kind ! 
 
 Seventh li. Well, we have drubbed 
 
 The Scots, as they deserved. 
 
 Sixth Ji. Ay, ay. And in 
 
 Our drubbing them we drubbed a Stuart Scot — 
 A Scot who is the Scottest of them all. [Mceunt. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene I. I?i a tent at Colchester ; near the camp. 
 
 Fairfax, What say you of the temper of the house? 
 
 Ludloxo. This parliament has not an honest heart. 
 Chicane and Treason, as the demons of 
 The hour, flap their black pinions over it. 
 With buzzard instinct led to carrion deeds. 
 It does not serve the kingdoms, but the king. 
 The realm may perish, but God save King Charles ! 
 Its every breath is redolent of king. 
 Its real hopes revolve around the king. 
 Its true affections aureole the kincf. 
 Belike, its dreams are full of phantom kings. 
 Yet that is not its utmost of offense. 
 It compasses the means to bring him back. 
 Still, 'tis not merely lickspit on its knees. 
 Ready to do his shadow reverence, but 
 A rancor curdles in its blood against 
 The army, which it hopes to browbeat, starve. 
 And cow ; yea, through the king, disband, that he 
 May be the pivot-point of power, Tiiis is 
 The cipher of its deeds in honest speech. 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 75 
 
 They would illude us with this treaty talk. 
 
 The treaty is but verbal gossamer. 
 
 It is not meant to bind the king to aught, 
 
 Hut to cocoon him with a grave pretense- 
 
 Til ink not suspicion puts black lingers on 
 
 My eyes, blinding me to the facts ; for what 
 
 Tliey do is too transparent to conceal 
 
 Their animus, their crystallized intent. 
 
 Now ask yourselves your duties to the realm. 
 
 As guardian of its interests, we have met 
 
 And overcome its foes ; the king himself 
 
 Its direst, deadliest foe. This closes not 
 
 Our terra of office, while the danger still 
 
 Is raging as the maddened thunder roars 
 
 Among the ragged cliffs of Derbyshire, 
 
 But leaves us guardian still. As first we were 
 
 Impelled to this, in duty to the realm. 
 
 So now the tempest-beaten crest of these 
 
 Events is bearing us beyond our will ; 
 
 As though Omnipotence impels us still 
 
 To keep the course towards which we turned our prow. 
 
 Since parliament exists through us, we are 
 
 Superior to the parliament ; and right 
 
 AVe have to guide its hand, Avhen laid on what 
 
 We guard. Moreover, it is instinct — ay. 
 
 Our bounden duty — to defend ourselves 
 
 Against tlie menace of its insolence. 
 
 We have not done offense against the realm, 
 
 Except in taking arms against the king ; 
 
 Which if the parliament shall call offense. 
 
 It stands arrayed with him, and gives the gage 
 
 To treat the two as one. Our guilt affirmed, 
 
 Let prowess gag the lie. Our innocence 
 
 Allowed, then parliament is wronging us. 
 
 In either case, we have a wrong to right. 
 
 But ask we, why it wreaks its wrath on us 'i 
 
76 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 We have not questioned its antliority, 
 Or laid so much as one obstructive pea 
 Upon its path. Nay, we have been its own 
 Right liand in executing its behests. 
 Why is it spujuing, tlien, with jeaknis rage? 
 IVe mean tojinish what we have begun. 
 As God is God, you have its guidon there ! 
 Its liead has found the hxp of Delihih, 
 And she awaits the wily Philistine. 
 Ay, read}' is it to relinquish all 
 And let our sacrifices go for nought. 
 Say ye, with English blood a-tingling in 
 Your veins ; say ye, as soldiers who have risked 
 Your all to reach a goal ; say ye, as saints 
 Who have a covenant with God — shall this 
 Their insolence to us, their treason to 
 The realm, their daring in the face of Heaven, 
 Go unrebuked ? For one, let Ludlow be 
 Tiie servant of a dog ere that. [Still statiding. 
 
 JFhirfax [Seated^. I see 
 
 The ill but fear the remedy. A new 
 Confusion would not cure the old, but were 
 Another step towards anarchy. 
 
 L. Say not 
 
 A new confusion, but the old, new-fledged ; 
 Or say, a dragon that had shed his teeth 
 Has got another set, with firmer fangs ; 
 For such it is. The parliament has naught 
 At heart for Avhich we fought. Naught have we gained 
 But what it. rates as naught. Naught do we hope 
 But what it dreads to see. In short, it is 
 The shadow of the king ; and he not far 
 Behind. 
 
 Ireton. Doubtless, the parliament is but 
 A simulated Esau, on whose hand 
 The kid-skin cheats the blind ; while yet the voice 
 
OLIVKU I'KOiMWKI.I,. 77 
 
 Is Jacob's voice. Yet fact it is, tliat men 
 Are blind ; which fact bids wariness hold check 
 Upon our zeal, and wait as footman at 
 The heels of Time. 
 
 L. Wait we the whims of time, 
 
 When Time waits ours. Wait, when the Devil waits. 
 But wait not for the people to be schooled. 
 When all the realm is as a smithy, where 
 The sputtering links, uncountable, but wait 
 The welding to enchain us all ; while there. 
 At Westminster, the witches work their spells. 
 The people are at school, and Treason holds 
 The rod ; at school — and learning how to spell 
 Out Charles ; at school — we waiting for the term 
 To close, wlicn wo shall be undone. Sure as 
 The sky is blue, a score of Colchesters, 
 With all the Scots to boot, are less to fear 
 Than this malignant parliament, which Avill 
 Not wait. Slight we our chance, 'twill turn its heel 
 On us. 
 
 winter Colonel Hammond. 
 
 I*] Timel}'- as rations, colonel, to 
 A hungry troop. 
 
 Hammond. A welcome thing to have 
 
 This welcome word from one whose word is more 
 Than welcome now. 
 
 F. We have relieved you of 
 
 Your onerous trust, in which your faithfulness 
 Has earned you this repose. You have been near 
 Enough the king to feel the beating of 
 His heart. What think you of his honesty ? 
 
 H. Naught ; since he has no honesty to think of. 
 
 F. What learned you of his feelings, hopes and 
 plans ? 
 
 II. In feeling, he is Charles, who, like old cheese, 
 Is maggoty with age. His hopes, I ween 
 
18 Ol.lVKU CUOMWKLL. 
 
 They liavo tlio Kvil ()iu>\s amoii. His ])laiis — 
 
 Nay, ask tlir Kvil Oiio himself. I fouml 
 
 Ilim crammed with craft as 'twere a glutton's meal. 
 
 7'! What tliink you of liis trial as the head 
 Offender of the realm. 
 
 //. To prove him such, 
 
 One word were so much waste. Shall he be tried? 
 That question is as hivi; as En<j;land's brain. 
 No wonder then it baffles mine to say. 
 A kindred question stands with open mouth : 
 Where is authority to head the head ? 
 I see not where, unless it be the realm, 
 l>y whom, and for whom, kings exist. 
 
 7*^ You close 
 
 The (juestion's mouth. The realm is head ; its brain. 
 The l*arliament ; in touching which we siege 
 The very capital of life : to do 
 Which were a venturesome temerity. 
 
 J*r/(fe. There are emergencies that snap red-tape 
 As rotten tow, then take us by the throat : 
 And now we feel the iron gripe of such. 
 Who groans with toothache queries not of his 
 Diploma who prescribes a remedy ; 
 Nor yet his nmne who made the forceps that 
 Shall pull the (ooth. A cure or — farewell tooth ! 
 Have we less wit when kingdoms are at stake ? 
 Shall we be casuists on the brink of doom ? 
 AVhat ! haggle with our scruples as to means 
 Of thwarting this conspiracy, because 
 It wears the toggery of a parliament ? 
 No, not our cowardice can be a cure 
 For theirs who fear their duty ; neither can 
 It scarecrow treason. Heroism, armed 
 From top to toe, is what the hour demands. 
 
 L. The bone and marrow of the case are there. 
 We have the relics of a parliament, 
 
(H,i\ i;u cuoMwioi.ii. 79 
 
 With divers odds-aiid-onds picked up beside 
 The highway of the years, whose temrre is 
 Prohmged until tliey only represent 
 Tiieniselves — a huge collective Ego, wliich- 
 Usurps the place of power, and rules, not serves. 
 The realm. Now, shall we wear the shackles of 
 This oligarchal tyranny, which rules 
 Because we give it power to rule ? you have 
 My no, and in my lieart the emphasis 
 Of iifty noes. I cannot brook that we, 
 The lawful heirs, should knee it at the feet 
 Of bastardy, and have it strangle us 
 To boot, with rope our hands have made. 
 
 II. Your action on the person of the king. 
 Leaves little for debate. In that, you leapt 
 The precipice of policy, beyond 
 The reach of an alternative. Seizing 
 The lion by the beard, you have to meet 
 His claws. 
 
 L. The parliament is king's-claws to 
 
 Us ; and it threatens diseiiibowelnicnt. 
 
 F. One sees more ills than fifty can avert. 
 
 L. One can avert what fifty dare not face, 
 By waiting not to meet them face to face. 
 The spur of Time is in our ribs, and we 
 Must leap the ditch or tumble into it. 
 Delay we now, we cut the hamstrings of 
 Our opportunity. Delay we, then 
 I see the king restored, imperious as 
 A mimic Jupiter, with wrath ablaze, 
 And armed with bolts of terrible revenge. 
 I see the parliament upon its knees, 
 Bathing the royal feet with craven tears. 
 And soothing him with unctuous flatteries. 
 I see a gallows looming through the mist, 
 With baskets ready to receive our heads. 
 
80 OI.IVKU rUOMWKI.I,. 
 
 I see this ai'my scatterod like the dust, 
 
 IMalignants trampling on it in contempt. 
 
 I see tlie realm enslaved as ne'er before. 
 
 I see all this with help now arm's length off. 
 
 These ranting rogues, these Judases, who reck 
 
 Not save to serve themselves ; who, in their craft, 
 
 Kiss M-ith the lip while in the hand they hold 
 
 The price of liberty, must yield to those 
 
 Who serve the realm and represent its will ; 
 
 For on the open page of Providence 
 
 I see it written in large capitals. [&etmt. 
 
 Scene II. Army headquarters, St. Albans. J^ive ad- 
 jutants enter carryhuf a petition. One reads. 
 Adjutant. Respected generals! We, who represent 
 The army, come to lay the burden of 
 Its heart before your feet, full sure that, in 
 The fear of God, you both will hear and heed 
 Its earnest praj'er. Serving this realm, we laid 
 Our lives as money in its hand, with which 
 To buy exemption from the tyranny 
 Of an ungodly king, who, not content 
 To king it o'er the body as no king 
 Before had done, would set a judgnu-nt seat 
 Above our souls, above our C4od, and judge 
 Us where alone the right is His. This price 
 We paid for liberty, as men, as saints. 
 In its expenditure we never called 
 For stint ; yet hoped we for the worth of what 
 We gave. In this we have been cheated to 
 Our face, as well you know, as never men 
 Before since time began, till common knaves 
 Might blush to see the deed and prank themselves 
 In presence of it as akin to saints. 
 Look at the cost, then seek ye the return. 
 
OI.lVKlt OUOMWKM,. 81 
 
 Tliousaiuls on tliousands felt tlie tcetli of deatli 
 
 Rasping tlicir bonos, who dared him to liis worst, 
 
 If so they might but leave old England free. 
 
 Thousands were mangled who are yet alive, 
 
 Whose blue-lipped scars arc clamoring for redress. 
 
 Thousands lie buried like so many dogs, 
 
 Who ho))ed their death might earn the rights of men. 
 
 Thousands of homes have got an empty nook, 
 
 Where Grief sits brooding with a downcast eye. 
 
 And all of us have given the best we had, 
 
 To gain the best that God to man can give. 
 
 Now seek the guerdon given us in return. 
 
 Nay, go and seek the wind that blew last March ! 
 
 Where is the king who flogged us with our woes ? 
 
 Fondled and slavered on by fawning knaves ! 
 
 He still is full of quirks as hell of fiends ; 
 
 Yet like to have his liberty, to play 
 
 The devil where he played the imp. For all 
 
 The land is pock-marked o'er with plots for his 
 
 Release, while parliament is parley, meant 
 
 To smooth his passage back to power, so soon 
 
 As divers bargains can be made. Now what 
 
 Of us — we who have made it possible 
 
 To save the realm ? we who have been the shield 
 
 And breastplate of the parliament ? we who 
 
 Have looked to it as to our mother's breast ? 
 
 We are despised ; yea, hectored by it ; yea. 
 
 Refused its ear ; yea, treated as arch foes. 
 
 The brunt of its ingratitude might set 
 
 A statue's heart on fire, and fill its hot 
 
 Lips with anathemas. But add to this 
 
 Its fumy vomitings of insolence 
 
 And threat, — tlie dead might justly rise, donned in 
 
 Their dusty cerements, and administer 
 
 A foretaste of the horrors of the damned. 
 
 Yet have we borne it all. Borne it ? Ay, and 
 
82 OMVER CROMWKLL. 
 
 With patience never matched by man witli like 
 Affront since time began. Patience ? Patience 
 Until we blush to think of it, and do 
 Abase ourselves before the Lord, and own 
 To you that we have been dull laggards in 
 Our zeal. But we awake, and lay aside 
 The grave-clothes of remissness, to amend. 
 In doing this, we ask that you may weigh 
 Our just complaint, and see that parliament 
 Shall lay its hands upon the king, to mete 
 Him out the merit of his deeds, that so 
 The realm be unbewitched of these its woes. 
 To this we urge you as your souls would live. 
 Law for the king as for a common man. 
 Law for the king, to prove that law is king. 
 But if he breaks the law, and they connive, 
 Then blame us not if we be like our king. 
 
 Fairfax. Suregodlier men and braver never faced 
 The crash of battle's front. Believe me, when 
 I think of them it is with godly pride. 
 Amid the stress of strife I feel in them 
 The beat of victory's heart. Such honor caps 
 Their bravery as is seldom won b}"- man. 
 Now comes a war of self with self ; in which 
 I trust the victory Avill be theirs ; for such 
 A victory will encrow n the rest. Forgot 
 Not, that we owe the parliament and realm 
 A loyal heart and duties manifold ; 
 For this, as Englishmen, ye never will 
 Deny. Remember, could Ave stand where stands 
 The parliament, we might have other eyes. 
 Then let us do our duties as brave men, 
 Assured the outcome will be of the Lord. 
 
 Ad. Two facts are blazing on our memory's walls. 
 As written by the hand of God. The first : 
 We are the realni's backbone. The next ; I>uties 
 
OLIVKR ( UOMWELL. 83 
 
 Are written both sides of the leaf. Here, then, 
 
 The parliament has duties jointly with 
 
 The army, which, as you attest, consists 
 
 Of godly men and brave, who thus far are 
 
 The salt that saves the realm. We have not spent 
 
 These brawling years of toil, and want, and wounds, 
 
 As penny.pickers, idling to and fro ; 
 
 IJut, with the realm in large-hand writ upon 
 
 Our hearts, and God and Zion ever in 
 
 Our eye, we have endured what gentlemen 
 
 In parliament would suffer not to hap 
 
 Their hounds. And are we less than hounds? "We 
 
 have. 
 As members of the realm, whose toils and blood 
 Have saved it, rights which parliament may not 
 Despise. We have the right to ask, that they 
 Who never with their little finger touched 
 What we have borne, shall not be prodigal 
 Of what we purchased at so dear a rate. 
 We have the right to lay our burdens off, 
 By ridding us of that which binds them on. 
 And so that, once laid down, we shall not need 
 To take them up again. And we declare. 
 That as the God we serve shall stand by us, 
 We will. They shall not throw away the loaf 
 That we have made to feed this king-starved realm ; 
 But we will leave it to our children, and 
 To theirs. So say we all. [ Turning towards the others. 
 
 The other Ads. We do ! 
 
 Ad. You ask 
 
 Our bravely waiting for an outcome from 
 The Lord. The time for iji-go has arrived : 
 And breaches are not lolling-places for 
 The brave. We cannot wait to see the done 
 Undone. Were Justice here in flesh and blood. 
 Our story poured into his ear would start 
 
84 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 The lightning to his eye, and make him grasp 
 His sword ; while even Mercy, by his side, 
 Would read his heart and say : So mote it be. 
 
 F. Go ye your ways. We will consider what 
 You say. Meanwhile, give heed that Satan tempt 
 You not. \Exeunt?[ 'Tis clear the reservoir is full, 
 And we must find an outlet ere it leaks 
 And overwhelms us all. But what, advise 
 Ye ; and arouse your wits to meet the hour. 
 
 Ireton. We need no abacus to reckon up 
 Our dut}^ Parliament forgets alike 
 Its mission and its dignity, and in 
 Ungodly strife seeks most ungodly ends. 
 Some knees are bending to propitiate 
 The king, whose favor their prophetic fears 
 Are sniveling for. Others attain not to 
 The level of our exigency, but 
 In dawdling let the time for action slip. 
 Still others make the parliament a rack. 
 On which to force the realm to sundry vain 
 And hybrid prelatries, who find in us 
 Their only obstacle ; on whom they fain 
 Would fix the thumbkins of the covenant. 
 And have us, in their livery, serve the king. 
 Now comes Decision's clinch, which must decide 
 For life or death, for us or them. I say, 
 We must decide, and now, or find ourselves 
 Betrayed by bat-blind bigots, poltroons, knaves ; 
 Which were stark suicide ; rank treason to 
 The realm ; backsliding from tlie Lord, whose hand 
 Has led us hitherto : to which, I know. 
 Our hearts will not consent. 
 
 Adj-Gcn. Allen. I hear 
 
 The army as the voice of Providence, which chides 
 Our tardiness. For what it asks is but 
 Tlie will of God : even the saving of 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 86 
 
 This goodly realm, whose life is in our hands. 
 
 Think ye that in the reckoning day we shall 
 
 Be quit of guilt, if we despise so great 
 
 Responsibility, the like of which 
 
 Men never had since ocean licked our shores ! 
 
 The very power of God is urging us ; 
 
 And as the crank of destiny is in 
 
 Our hands, so would He have us turn the winch, 
 
 To raise the realm from her besotted state. 
 
 'Twere well to help the parliament to see 
 
 Its duty, or to yield to those who do. 
 
 Pride. I am not skilled in subtleties ; nor need 
 I be when Duty stands so squarely in 
 My path that I must rub his mantle would 
 I pass. We have no choice. Necessity 
 Has sot his iron teeth and raised his whip 
 Behind our backs, compelling us to move. 
 We must not heed the syren. Policy ; 
 Nor ask Timidity what others think ; 
 Nor empty rag-shops for a precedent ; 
 Nor let the darkness fill our front with ghosts. 
 Necessity looks but one way — right on. 
 Resist him, he will smite us in the face. 
 His law is as the anchor of the hills. 
 Know what is necessary — that is right. 
 Then let our foot be as the foot of Time — 
 Forwards, and ever on the move. In this, 
 Then, is my answer : What must be, to save 
 The realm, must be by means that best 
 Will gain the end. 
 
 JS'wier Members of Parliament. 
 
 Grohy. Well met in council, since 
 
 Our ills are clamoring for a remedy. 
 The Presbyterians in the house are stiff 
 As buckram, save Avhen thinking of the king. 
 When they become as pliant as one's thumb. 
 
86 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Their only haggle is, to squeeze him till 
 
 His conscience pukes a little prelatiy 
 
 And gulps the covenant. Then would they trust 
 
 The self-same conscience, patched and pied with his 
 
 Hypocrisies, both with their heads, estates. 
 
 Souls, everything. So England has to wait 
 
 Until his conscience heaves ! The way they prate 
 
 Might give a god the colic ! Pardon the 
 
 Expression. But tlieir doings arc enough 
 
 To make an angel half forget himself. 
 
 Rivers of talk in tides that never ebb ; 
 
 As though they thought the earth might rust upon 
 
 Its axis, Avaiting on their whirligig 
 
 Of whims ; while traitors hatch like maggots in 
 
 July, and the great crisis hastens on 
 
 Apace. The realm's affairs are hanging as 
 
 Upon an icicle, readj'^ to slip 
 
 And lose us everything. 
 
 Moore. That, generals, is 
 
 The naked Truth. 
 
 I. Then Truth has need to Avash 
 
 Herself. 
 
 M. 'Twould take a sea to wash her clean. 
 
 F. Suppose we undertake the task ? 
 
 G. God speed 
 Your loyalty ! The utmost of the law 
 
 AVere mercy to the realm and worthj^ you. 
 
 I. The highest law is the interpreter 
 Of laws. It has a constitution in 
 Our intuitions and necessities. 
 It is granitic in its quality ; 
 Yet may we hew it to the purpose of 
 The hour. To this our circumstances urge. 
 They who conspire against the rightful power 
 Are traitors, whom 'tis right to place beneath 
 The country's feet : a principle confessed 
 
OI.IVKH CROMWELL. 87 
 
 By parliament in taking arms against 
 
 The king. Then ineasiiro ]»arliament by its 
 
 Own tape line, and this principle will fit 
 
 Its back. Since divers of its members have 
 
 Conspired against the realm, to serve the king, 
 
 They take the hue and character of his 
 
 Offense, and cease to be the lawful power. 
 
 Who then shall call these traitors to account ? 
 
 The powers that be, through whom they hold their 
 
 power : 
 And that we are, who made them what they are. 
 We tiien must call them to condign account. 
 As best befits the hour's emergency. 
 On this the army is unanimous ; 
 And what it says we cannot well gainsay. 
 
 F. AV^e have no serrate grudges, with whose teeth 
 We wish to saw the parliament ; nor do 
 We aim to be supplanters, but to thwart 
 Their schemes who feel superior to the realm, 
 And use it as a bribe to serve their ends ; 
 And this as God permits, we mean to do : 
 For as the voice of Duty bade us pluck 
 The realm from ruin now it bids us keep. 
 
 Walton. Will Cromwell stomach this ? 
 
 F. His stomach found 
 
 A vomit in the king, and will no more 
 Of him. Tl>e jaded nag prefers the short 
 Cut home ; and he, with us, is weary of 
 Delay that only gives the traitors heart. 
 Breathless events are stepping on our heels, 
 Bidding us haste. Let us retire then — three 
 Of you and three of us — to mold our plans, 
 And keep one step beyond the traitors' toes. [Fxeimt. 
 
88 OLIVEU cKOMU i:i.L, 
 
 Scene III. A barber shop in London. Two men seated 
 on a bench. 
 
 First Citizen. Heaven save us ! for since England 
 perched upon 
 The sea the like was not that army kinged 
 It o'er a parliament in knock-down style. 
 
 Second Cit. Heaven needs to save from such a parlia- 
 ment, 
 Which earns a knock-down as no parliament 
 Before. But heaven will save through anything 
 Or nothing, while it asks no odds of thee 
 Or me. Hence is our fuss all fudge. Wlien foes 
 Are grinning in old England's face, the one 
 That knocks them down is Heaven's own righteous fist. 
 And greater foe had England never than 
 The king, whose craft plays devil everywhere 
 At once, and finds its imps in parliament. 
 
 First Cit. Ay, curs can bark outside the lion's cage, 
 And be no more than curs. But let them keep 
 Outside, or woe betide ! Armies for wars, 
 And kings and parliaments for laws. But Hodge 
 Here makes a hodge-podge of the low-bred of 
 The land who, perked in soldier's gear, have pranked 
 Themselves on wit to pick out who shall sit. 
 And what be done, when men of quality 
 Are half adaze to know. 
 
 Second Cit. Belike, Hodge knows 
 
 The way to pick them out. The Devil knows 
 Who picked them in ; but fifty might uiulo 
 Their wits to tell what good they are. Their fault 
 Is too much sitting when they ought to stand 
 And shew their backbone ns the army has. 
 With England struggling in the whelming waves, 
 What want we with a lot of tongues, whose length 
 Would measure all the coast, with wind enough 
 
OMVKU CnOMWICf,!,. 89 
 
 To plague the sea? 'Tis time that some one's fist 
 ShouM fill tlicir mouth. 
 
 Third Cit. \A'/iferifig]. Fist — mouth. Whoso fist 
 and mouth ? 
 I'll find the fist if thou the mouth, and try 
 The fit. 
 
 Second Cit. Thou hast enough of mouth thyself 
 
 ^Rising. 
 For fist to fit ; and here is one would like 
 To try thy teeth ; so sot thyself in trim. 
 
 Third (Jit. Nay, deck not nonsense in a parson's gown. 
 Thy fist would wed my mouth ; but I forbid 
 The banns. Tiie two arc not agreed ; so let 
 Them now, hencefortli, and ever, be apart. 
 
 Second Cit. To save thy nose let nonsense keep his 
 place. [Sitting doion. 
 
 Beshrew me ! but we pantomime the king 
 And parliament, craft conquering power. 
 
 First Cit. What, should 
 
 I play the arm}^ gag the parliament, 
 And seize the king ? 
 
 Second Cit. Proceed if thou hast right, 
 
 And thew to back it ; both of which, as I 
 Have wit, the army has. 
 
 First Cit. Nay, bar its right 
 
 In face of ancient English law, to which 
 We must defer as to the will of God. 
 
 Second Cit. What ! must we seek the midnight and 
 the tombs ; 
 Invite the ghosts to leave their ancient graves, 
 And have them king us now, with iron rule ? 
 What vested rights has such like shadowy stuff 
 In our material things? Who makes us liege 
 To brains long turned to dust? What power is in 
 The memory of their deeds to force our deeds ? 
 Nay, let the Past present its capias first, 
 
90 OLIVER CROMAVEIJ.. 
 
 And drag us to its bar to answer tlioif. 
 
 Till then we may defy the dust of all 
 
 The kings — their ghosts to boot — and brush away 
 
 The must and mildew of the years. The quick 
 
 To serve the quick, the dead the dead. 
 
 First Clt. There must 
 
 Be something solid and immovable, 
 On which to rest our liberties ; and on 
 That rock the king or parliament must build. 
 The king forbidden, parliament remains. 
 But here the army meddles, void of right. 
 
 Third Cit. Suppose thou box the army's ears and set 
 It on a stool, to meditate and suck 
 Its thumb. 
 
 Second Cit. From whence has parliament its power ? 
 Itself ? Then let it save itself. The realm? 
 Then let it serve the realm. Pry thee, dissect 
 The realm and tell its bones, and may be thou 
 Wilt find the army is its backbone, whose 
 Support is needful, that the bead may keep 
 Its poise. Ask, Whence the army? From the realm. 
 For what ? To save us from a king who deemed 
 Us slaves. But here thou stickiest at the means 
 That reach no end save what the realm designed, 
 And in no way save what necessity 
 With fescue pointed out : for thou would'st save 
 Our liberties. Our liberties ! And here 
 These tinkers, in their law-shop, blow the fire 
 Of treason, with their solder near, to patch 
 Up matters with the king, undoing so 
 What took the realm and army years to do. 
 No, these are not the tricks of liberty. 
 
 Third Git. Yea, Liberty a-standing on her head — 
 A mountebank upon a shaky stage. 
 Which any day may fall and let her down. 
 But whether now on head or feet she be, 
 
OLIVKK CUOMWELL. 91 
 
 Old Nick may guess. 
 
 Second Cit. This realm is owned by king 
 
 Nor parliament. 
 
 Iilrst Cit. Nor army. 
 
 Second Cit. Even so ; 
 
 But mistress, who no master owns but God, 
 Her riglits are as the texture of her soul. 
 Inwoven in her being by His hand. 
 
 Fourth Cit. \Eiitering'\. A parson here. Amen ! 
 The text — chapter 
 And verse. 
 
 Third Cit. The chapter is, the chap who lost 
 A crown ; the verse, what tells how divers fools 
 Went down to Jericho ; the subject, Pride, 
 Which goes before a fall. 
 
 Fourth Cit. Good soul ! thou hast 
 
 Not slept in sermon time, as children do. 
 But is the fifty-ninth and lastly gone, 
 And the improvement thinned off to a close ? 
 
 First Cit. Thou art a dull-wit or a care-for-naught, 
 To sit astride destruction with a grin. 
 
 Fourth Cit. A grin or groan, the jade will keep her 
 
 jog ; 
 And so I grin and save a doctor's bill. 
 
 Second Cit. Fool or philosopher, thy speech would fit 
 The mouth. 
 
 Fourth Cit. Which proves it is a fitting speech. 
 Second Cit. It were not fit that all should have thy 
 
 speech. 
 Fourth Cit. Lest they become philosophers — goose- 
 necked. 
 With nose that seeks the ground ? 
 
 First Cit. Thy magpie wit 
 
 Has got a slit-tongue readiness. 
 
 Third Cit. [yl man rushing hi\. Odds zounds ! 
 A whirlwind on two legs, a goblin in 
 
92 OLIVEU CKOMWKLL. 
 
 Tlio rear. 
 
 Fifth Cit. Cromwell is here. 
 
 2'/u'rd Cit. I see him not. 
 
 Fifth Cit. At Westminster ; and pats the army on 
 The back for having ousted parliament. 
 
 First Cit. And would had Pride out all our throats. 
 
 Fourth Cit. Wliy not? 
 
 For then Avere fewer throats to gulp the king. 
 
 Fifth Cit. Crounvell is right since right tlie army did. 
 Think of it, snubbed, robbed, starved, challenged to 
 Its face, by gouty gentlemen who thought 
 They carried England in their fob, and but 
 Consulted her to kiu)\v their dinner time. 
 For once their mightinesses overreached 
 Their wits ; as now they tijul. 
 
 Fourth Cit. And, ten to one, 
 
 They had not much to overreach. And now, 
 I ween, they stand upon their dignity 
 As pegtops on their i)oint. 
 
 /Second Cit. Cromwell approves 
 
 The course pursued ? 
 
 Fifth Cit. Yes, on the word 
 
 Of one who overheard a member say. 
 
 Second Cit. (Jreat men can enter the arcana of 
 Events and see the soul of things, M'hile most 
 But grope and guess around the bodied form. 
 Hence those have an impulsion towards a goal 
 Where others think chimeias lure astray. 
 'Tis this divinest instinct of the man 
 That shews us whitherward the destinies 
 Are drifting us — ay, shapes the destinies. 
 Here Cromwell is a king ; while he once king 
 Has j)roved himself a lout. One looks Tinu' in 
 Tiie eye and reads his heart. The other fails 
 To understand his plainest speech. Hence one 
 Is master of events ; the other, slave. 
 
OLIVKK CROMWKLL. 93 
 
 Fifth at. The king is Scot in blood, an Irishman 
 III heart, a papist through and tliroiigh, and fool 
 From toe-nail to the end of every hair. 
 
 First Cit. Ten years ago tiiat speech- had cost thee 
 dear. 
 
 Third Cit. I see nut why when lieads were cheap as 
 dirt. 
 
 Fifth Cit. In sooth, the market had a good supply 
 Of better heads than ours. Now we siiall be 
 Content to get a king's. 
 
 First Cit. Ilusli thou ! IJeliead 
 
 A king ? Make England's coffin if it comes 
 To that. Metliinks the very axe woidd shrink 
 And chide tlie lifted Iiand ; yea, and the block 
 Be seized with horror and refuse his neck. 
 
 Fourth Cit. An arrow did not shun good Harold's eye, 
 A king whose toe were worth the head of Charles ; 
 Nor block refuse the necks of Harry's queens, 
 Whose virtues are not in this mongrel's blood. 
 
 First Cit. To kill a king would be the king of crimes. 
 It comes near grazing very Deity. 
 Confess infirmity that makes him man. 
 There is divinity that makes him king. 
 Strike we the man, we strike infirmity ; 
 But strike the king, Ave strike divinity. 
 
 Fifth Cit. Jack Ketch would take no more, I ween, 
 than just 
 His head who fathers the infirmity, 
 Leaving divinity to lielp itself. 
 
 Second Cit. Divinely blind, and now divinely weak ; 
 What pity but he were content to be 
 A man. The bladder is too small to hold 
 'I'ho wind of his divinity. 
 
 Fifth Cit. Hark ye ! 
 
 The tramp of soldiers in the street. Away ! [Exeunt. 
 
94 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Scene IV. Tlie House of Commons. 
 
 Pride. I have been asked, within a day, the source 
 Of my authority for wliat is done. 
 See these, — [ Circling his hands toioards the generals and 
 
 others], — in Avhoni is more of wit to rule 
 Than fifty bastard parliaments — and there 
 You see the brain of ray authority. 
 Look at the army — whieh has lo3\alty 
 Enough to guarantee the safety of 
 The realm — and there you find the backbone of 
 The same authority. Or ask you more ? 
 Behold the wounds of this distracted land — 
 Tlie wounds whose festering might evoke a groan 
 From everj' stone upon her streets. In them 
 Resides the soid of my authority. 
 Turn to Humanity and read the laws 
 Inscribed upon her heart, by fingers of 
 Infinity, and know : Eternity 
 Gives common law for my authority. 
 If others can outweigh it, let us hear. 
 
 Ireton. Authority ! England and England's God 
 Are our authority. And as they rule, 
 So we shall wield it as they will. And let 
 A dog bark at Omnipotence rather 
 Than Treason wag his tongue. Authority ! 
 Who gave this jiarliament authority ? 
 Not Charles — though none more readily than they 
 Would lick his hand — for he was in duress 
 When half assumed their seats. Not England — thougli 
 They took her name in vain, to gloze their deeds — 
 For not enough to form a regiment 
 Could tell their whence or how. And not the Lord — 
 Whose name to know, belike, they had to mouth 
 An oath — for every step of theirs has been 
 With cloven foot. Then let not them demand 
 
OLIVEK CROMWELL. 96 
 
 Authority. We represent the realm — 
 Some iif, all out of, parliament. To us 
 It gave a unique work, in doing which 
 We found these renegades across our path-; 
 Whom, from necessity, we clear away. 
 Now lies before us what the realm requires — 
 The final stroke that shall insure her peace ; 
 A stroke I need not name : for, as you know, 
 To what we put our hand, you know to what 
 We owe the final touch. The king is first 
 And last, body and soul, of all the ills 
 Whose pestilential power has smitten us ; 
 Which ills will last until he breathes his last. 
 To duty, then, as we regard the realm, 
 And would approve our conscience, and endure 
 His gaze who flinches not when justice bids. 
 
 Cromwell. I ask not of authority. Who has 
 A better let him give us better deeds. 
 I speak of principles, whose roots are in 
 The law that is the subsoil of all laws 
 Whose fruits are righteousness. Then note ye this : 
 Law heads the king or he the law. But law 
 Has made him king. Then law is head, and he 
 Is liege. Iletice kings, in Magna Charta and 
 The Bill of Rights, have kneed it to the law. 
 But now a Stuart breaks, contemns, defies 
 The law, and so rebels against the head ; 
 Wiiich treasoti, in the highest subject of 
 The law, is higheso treason known to law — 
 The treason of a ruler to his trust ; 
 A recreance to the body of the head : 
 Which threatens all on which our weal depends. 
 For, if so arch a traitor miss his dues, 
 All villainies will prank themselves and feel 
 Secure. No, law should be maintained ; and they 
 Maintain who gave it parentage, whose will 
 
no (>1 IVKK rUOMWKl.I.. 
 
 Is as tlio rroviiliMU'o of kings. "I'is lioro 
 
 The tiiuiii oast tho load-jnni-lino, to find 
 
 An anoliorago in juoonlonts, but lind, 
 
 Instead, an oooan bottomless ; beeauso 
 
 No precodontial exiiienoe lias left 
 
 A chart for nooily mariners. \Vo have 
 
 An interregnnm with a king ; a king 
 
 Who has become the phantom of himself ; 
 
 A no-king, who excludes a regenev. 
 
 Then what is treason, who are traitors now ? 
 
 What threats, aiui they who threat, the interests of 
 
 The realm to serve their individual ends ; 
 
 As did malignants hero 'u\ parliament. 
 
 Who wore compounding with the common foe. 
 
 What now is law, and who shall execute ? 
 
 The general will, and those who represent 
 
 That will to serve its weal ; which will resolved 
 
 Itself into organic force : which force 
 
 We are. Here then are our credentials for 
 
 Our deeds. And now, as God hath borne us in 
 
 The chariot of His power, fi-om strength to strength. 
 
 To work His will, so we proceed to do. 
 
 Hence we demand, that he who broke shall face 
 
 The law and feel its penalty. And it 
 
 Hehooves to oil the wheels of time with our 
 
 Alacrity. Delay abets his hoiH^s ; 
 
 And while we slumber treason plays the thief. 
 
 This business done a year ago had saved 
 
 A lake of blood ; deferred, 'twill cost a sea. 
 
 There is no reason why we should defer. 
 
 While all the nerves of Patietice are unstrung ; 
 
 But every reason clamors. Expedite 
 
 And help to blot the shame of past delay. 
 
 Alas ! that shame is inelTaceable ; 
 
 Since written in the choicest Knglisli blood. 
 
 Still, let us — since fate's ratchet on the wheels 
 
OLIVKU CKOMWIM,!,. 97 
 
 Of time kccpH b.ick tlie past — bid slotli begone, 
 
 Atnl weak timidity ; confess our fault, 
 
 And by our proniplitude atone, if such 
 
 ( 'an be, grasjji ug tiie axe as we bave grasped 
 
 The sword. 
 
 Fairfiix. Wliat we bave done is rigbtly done ; 
 Nor, could we, would we that it were undone ; 
 For, rightly done, it has the seal of Heaven : 
 A seal that it were sacrilege to break. 
 We took the gage in championing the law. 
 We measured lances, and the foe is thrown. 
 Now we would not be stricken in the back, 
 niame us in this the last — ye blame yourselves, 
 Who bade us give i\\Q first cut at the band 
 That bound the king and parliament ; ye blame 
 Us that the stroke ye ordered found the hilt. 
 But no ; I ween you will not blame us now 
 Because our loyalty has kept its edge, 
 To cut as keeidy as in earlier strokes. 
 Treason alone will blame ; and that we board ; 
 Nor will we give it quarter, as we live. 
 
 Bradshaio. Law's primal principles are precedent 
 p]nough for what is done. We lUM'd not seek 
 The footprints of our sires before we step. 
 The path of progress is not in our rear. 
 They trod th(! way of libort}' ; and we 
 Contiime whence they parted hands. The law 
 Of progress is at once our precedent, 
 Behoof, necessity, and right. Treason 
 May hold his ear against the keyhole of 
 The past, and hear the mumblings of its ghosts, 
 And spells of witches, jingling manacles, 
 And clanking chains. But we need neither halt 
 Nor be bewitched ; neither accept the one 
 Nor wear the other. Why debate ? We have — 
 In making war — assumed, yea, set ourselves, 
 
98 OLlVLll CKOMWELL. 
 
 A precedent ; for by the sword we called 
 
 Tlie king to an account before the law ; 
 
 And by Ills treating with us he has owned 
 
 Our right to offer terms : in doing whicli, 
 
 We claimed the right to start, and he has owned 
 
 The competence of law to close the strife. 
 
 Tiuis both acknowledge law as arbiter. 
 
 Since we prefer the charge, 'tis ours to state 
 
 Its nature and extent, and his to meet 
 
 It as he may ; which right we exercised 
 
 In formulating erst the charge, serving 
 
 In War's most sanguinary mode ; while now, 
 
 As sheriff of the realm, the army holds 
 
 The prisoner in duress. This then remains 
 
 Our sole alternative — to prosecute, 
 
 Or give account for that already done. 
 
 For either he is traitor to the realm, 
 
 Or we are traitors to the king. Now, not 
 
 To prosecute would be to own our guilt. 
 
 And so to make ourselves amenable : 
 
 A thing that none of us is anxious for. 
 
 C. Action stands breathless at the open door 
 Of opportunity, waiting our word. 
 Speak one and all ; and let our heart be in 
 The word, an undertone of honesty. 
 Yea, speak, and let insulted Patience dry 
 ller tears, as Action leaps the threshold here 
 To-daj'. Do we our duty, counting not 
 The cost, assured the Lord will pay the bill : 
 For as He has approved our course, He will. 
 Appoint a court, then, that shall try the king — 
 A special court to meet a special need — 
 And deal him as his deeds have duly earned. 
 
 B. The realm is Heaven's vicegerent in the case. 
 Behind whose will no earthly power may stand. 
 Ileuee has she sole adjudicaloiy right, 
 
OI.IVKR CKOMWKI.T-. 99 
 
 "Which none may dictate liow to exercise. 
 
 Courts are of lier, and for her, as she wills. 
 
 A special nocd demands a special court, 
 
 Wliich here she may ordain and constitute. 
 
 Then I approve a court to try the king. 
 
 Do what we do apertly, in her name ; 
 
 And let his innocence give answer, if 
 
 It can, or let his guilt receive its dues. 
 
 The wronged has right to vindicate her rights. \^Exeunt. 
 
 Scene V. Farnhcmi Castle. Charles and Warwick 
 
 alone. 
 
 Charles. Deciduous fortune sheds its leaves, and I 
 Am shelterless in this the winter of 
 My woe. What men have dwelt within these walls. 
 Whose varied fortune symbolizes mine ! 
 This pile, with eyes and heart, might groan to see 
 Its master's pliglit. Would he liad none for what 
 He sees and feels ! Draw nearer, Warwick. Thou, 
 To-night, art all the world to me ; since all 
 Besides is utter vacancy, devoid 
 Of interest as the aslics of one's hopes. 
 I feel a strange foreboding of my fate — 
 The essence of a melancholy that 
 Is poison to the soul. 
 
 Warioick [ Caressing the hinffs hand\ Your Majesty 
 Is weary from the drive on rack-joint roads ; 
 And in tlie stress of flesh the spirit flags. 
 The dew of sleep distilled upon your nerves 
 Will make the morning fresh with opening flowers. 
 
 (^. Tis more than weariness, and deeper than 
 The joints. It is an inkling to the soul. 
 That Mcphistopheles has waved his wand 
 Across their hearts whose red hands rule the hour. 
 
100 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 W. Were foul diabolism hot witliin 
 There would be fumes of biiinstone in the speech. 
 Miter Major Harrison. 
 
 C. There have been smothered whispers in my ear 
 Of an intent that dares not hear itself 
 Speak out. 
 
 Harrison. What meaning couches there ? 
 
 (J. There lias 
 
 Been profanation of my person with 
 Impunity, begetting madness that 
 AVould sate itself with roj^al blood. 
 
 11 There is 
 
 A reverence for the laws which means to let 
 You meet them face to face. 
 
 C. They dare not that. 
 
 Mark me. I say, They dare not that. There is 
 A daring that hi^s Desperation for * 
 Its father, and for mother, Recklessness. 
 It is begotten, born, matured, and has 
 A gleaming dagger in its hand, to do 
 In darkness what it dares not in the light. 
 It loves the blood of innocence ; hence has 
 It thirst for mine. 
 
 //. Think not the parliament 
 
 Will skulk behind a hedge to do what it 
 Has warrant for in law. So just its cause, 
 It wants that justness written legibly 
 Upon the page that generations con. 
 
 C. A morning rainbow spans its troubled heart, 
 Reflected on the background of its fears, 
 And gives its face a smirk of confidence. 
 But in that background lurks a storm ; for such 
 Is nature, that its deepest feelings will 
 Direct its deeds. 
 
 H. T hope you measure not 
 
 Your coat to know the size of parliament. 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 101 
 
 But, be assured, it woulil rejoice to liave 
 
 The world's e^'e, as the noonday sun, look down 
 
 0!i what it docs. For my part, what I do 
 
 Sliall have no squint in line witii lydl'ord law. 
 
 With this, good night. * [Mcit. 
 
 C. How big, to prattle to 
 
 A king and play the malapert ! And what 
 A chance a rushlight of authority 
 Affords to shew his peacock plumes ! — Law — law ! 
 A jackdaw croaking in his master's ears 
 Of law. And they will condescend to give 
 A king fair play ! A midge will deign to speak 
 To Jupiter ! My hopes may pillow on 
 A traitor's word ! No. Nothing in his deeds 
 Or theirs would make me trust the word. 
 For evil lurks, as ghosts in darkness, in 
 An evil heart, fearing the light. AVhat boots 
 The bending of the knee in mockery? 
 The decking with a dirty purple robe? 
 Tlie plaiting of a crown of thorns, Aviiich is 
 liut meant to pierce me to the quick ? — And yet, 
 Who knows but it betraj^s their fears ? The brute 
 lias but brute motives at the best. 
 
 IV. In sooth, 
 
 Your Majesty, they are a brutish herd. 
 And yet, methinks, their merest instinct would 
 Suggest, that foul means for your taking off 
 Would shake in shudders through old England's blood, 
 Making her heart like Afric's stormy cai)e — 
 Where halcyon never spreads her sky-tint wing — 
 And whelm them in the billows of revenge. 
 
 C. Ah, Warwick ! thou dost credit them with sight 
 And attributes of men ; whereas they are 
 l>at-blind — so blind that Reason cannot give 
 Them sight ; and, destitute of reverence, they 
 Are lacking its component parts ; in which 
 
102 OMVKK CUOMWELL. 
 
 Tliey lack the sense of honor, truth, and the 
 Etceteras of the gentleman. Perclianee, 
 Tlie Great Suj)renie hns let their passions loose, 
 'I\) leave a warning on the shores of time, 
 Like hea«llanil beacons on a treacherous coast, 
 For upstarts who AV(>uhl he piratic kings. 
 
 IK There is an instinct ili the brute to cling 
 To life ; and this they have in conunon with 
 Tlie brute, in sucli ih\gree as proves their more 
 Than brutishness. Wlu'nce I infer, that they 
 Will have the semblance of a court, to save 
 Themselves the odium of their deeds, and give 
 The public wrath extinguishment. 
 
 C. A court ! 
 
 A king arraigned before his subjects ! Me, 
 Whom they have hid these years lest men should see 
 Their king and prove their loyalty ! Let them 
 Attempt it and the very Avorld would rise. 
 It were to set the subject o'er the king ; 
 To stand a pyramid upon its apex ; 
 To have a shears-and-lapstone government : 
 A plague that might inoculate the Avorld. 
 Hence is it that my case wcnild be the world's. 
 But they can scent a danger nearer home. 
 Full well they know, that did the people see 
 Their king, the heait of England wimld be wild 
 A-leap. Hence, like a snmggled prize, they keep 
 Me well concealed. TluMr quandarj' is as when 
 The baited bull, to guard both ends at once, 
 Lunges in desperation at the dogs. 
 It is the lunging }K>licy I dread. 
 He that escaped, I still have three cards left. 
 The worst of which will give back everything. 
 
 IK A threefold happy fact, if fact it be. 
 
 C. Your if is needless as a second nose. 
 The hopes of Ireland hang upon my skirts ; 
 
ol.lVl•:l^ ritoMw i;i.i,. 103 
 
 And slit' ('((iild tiiin tilt' !):il;iiici' t rciiibliii<x here. 
 
 Dfimiiirk is not forget ful of tlu; past ; 
 
 Nor Franco unfc^M ful of a [trcccdciit. 
 
 ludt't'tl, tlic world is waking to porcoive 
 
 A solidarity of interest ; that 
 
 The thrones are all a fascine : take out one 
 
 We loosen all. If only we could steal 
 
 A slice of tinu' ! 
 
 W. 'Twere both a timely and 
 
 An honest tliid't. 
 
 C. Time is our all, our life ; 
 
 And now the ""guaranty of life ; for in 
 Its wcl) are all the threads of destiny. 
 
 Miter IJishop of London, 
 
 Bishop. IVIay (Jod be gracious to 3'our Majesty ! 
 Nfwburgli, of l>ai;;sliot, has a heart to serve ; 
 And, can you visit him, will prove the same. 
 
 C. You briiiLj a primrose from the winter's breast. 
 England is all blue sky ; aiul loyal hearts 
 Are stars, besprinkled everywhere. But clouds 
 Kxelude the splendor of their sheen. Thank him, 
 Most reverend lord, aiul tell him I would fain 
 Accept his service couki he serve me — me 
 Whose movements are no more my own. 
 
 Ji. [ILnuliiHf a letter to (Jharles]. He can. 
 Therein, I ween, is ample evidence. 
 
 C. [Readhif/]. IJatifshot ! The key of liberty, of hope, 
 Of ever3'thing. [^liisuuf and pacinff thejfoor.] AVe must 
 
 to IJagsIiot, if 
 The purpose of the escort can be swerved. 
 
 ]V. Moonlike, my heart receives the rapture of 
 Your Majesty'^*, reflectiiiii; back your joy. 
 What tidings thrill you so? 
 
 C. A prospect of 
 
 Escape. How that would take their impudence 
 Aback ! 
 
104 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 W. Heaven grant it may be feasible ! 
 
 J5. This may be Heaven's appointment to rebuke 
 Their rank impiety, and shew tlie world 
 That royalty ean leave the furnace, though 
 'Tis seven times hotter than its wont, without 
 Tlie smell of lire. Heaven's own anointed has 
 Heaven's guardian arm about his path. 
 
 C. [Siftinff doioi]. More true 
 
 Has never passed your lordship's lips. The crown 
 Despised ; my subjects up in arms ; mj'solf 
 The prey of rogues ; domestic ties disrupt ; 
 To-day all dark ; to-morrow deep in fog ; 
 Looking into the very throat of death, — 
 This sevenfold heat was ne'er before so liot. 
 But there is One — my conscience — like the Son 
 Of man, who walks with me amid the flames, 
 And gives their tips a beatific touch. 
 
 Ji. Your hoi}' innocence inspires your tongue 
 "With heavenl}' seasoned eloquence. Heaven must 
 Be near a soul so like to heaven ; and, doubtless, it 
 Has heavenh' boon in store. 
 
 C. 1 must 
 
 Communicate Avitli Harrison to stop 
 At Bagshot. Bid him — or invite him — liere. [JTxit W. 
 "What more contemptible than fallen kings. 
 Who ask the favors it is theirs to give ! 
 No cur so small but ho may have his bark. 
 But stars will fall, and suns will set ; those Ust 
 Forever, these to rise again. So may 
 I rise, and so shall traitors fall. 
 
 filter Harrison and AVarwick. 
 
 K What wills 
 
 Your Majesty ? 
 
 C. To staj^ at Bagshot, where 
 
 His lordship, Newburgh, will be jn-oud to give 
 Accommodations worthy of a king : 
 
OMVEK CKOMWICLL. 105 
 
 A souvenir of liopcloss loyalty. 
 
 JI. To B;i<;sliot ? iJiit we c;uiTiot linger there. 
 
 C. I axk no more than time for needed rest, 
 To taste the sweets of liospitality, 
 Amoiit( the leafy glories of its woods, 
 And w.irin (tnc Iieart before the fire goes out. 
 
 JI. Willi Windsor in our view it may be done. 
 
 C. I ask no more. \Exit IIurrisori.~\ How freely 
 one ean give 
 A gem who knows not wliat he gives ! But what 
 Chagrin to learn its worth when lost ! This game 
 Will stand their projects on tlieir lieads. There may 
 They stav till the projectors have no heads ! 
 
 W. It does indeed afford a vista to 
 Your hopes, if naught shall trip the scheme. 
 
 C. Warwick, 
 
 Thy ifs are thorns that grow with every rose. 
 
 W. All roses have their thorns ; and keen are those 
 Whose points have pierced your Majesty. 
 
 C. True as 
 
 The lisp of Truth in infant innocence, 
 Save that the primrose breaks the thorny rule. 
 
 W. The eveninfj }»rimrose means Inconstancy, 
 The twin of If, and thorn of thorns withal. 
 
 C. Full true, alas ; for the}-^ liave been the right 
 And left hand that have meted out my dole. 
 Enter a Servant. Ilamh a letter to Warwick at the 
 
 door. 
 
 Servant. A letter by a secret messenger, 
 Whose haste well nigh betra3^ed him to the guard. 
 
 W. [Handing it to the king.'] A letter. Happy be 
 its broach ! 
 
 B. God grant 
 A gracious boon ! 
 
 C. [Beading]. My worst prophetic fears 
 Fulfilled ! 
 
106 OLIVER CKOMWELL. 
 
 £. Heaven save yt>ur <2^raeious Majesty ! 
 
 I hope and pray tlie worst is past. 
 
 C. No doubt. 
 
 Such fangles are ni}"" heritage. Turn liopes 
 And i)rayers to gold, my wealtli, ere tliis, liad put 
 The Indies to the blush. It is the fate 
 Of hapless kings to have redundant lielp 
 From impotent officiousness. 
 
 B. Be calm. 
 Your Majesty takes too, too much to heart 
 Tiie passing of a cloud that blurs your sky. 
 Indeed you do. Look you around, above. 
 Or if events have wearied you, then close 
 Your eyes and rest. These sudden humors of 
 The flesh afilict the spirit with a long 
 Concatenation of despondencies, 
 
 Which work it ill. His lordship has a plan 
 For your escape which is most feasible ; 
 Of which you are to some e.vtent apprized. 
 
 G. As feasible as sowing moonshine for 
 A crop. A lightning-footed horse, to bear 
 Me off, gets kicked and cannot bear himself. 
 What schemes that hang a kingdom on a thread ! 
 
 JB. Heaven's mercy ! what mishaps belong to life ! 
 It is a bundle of uncertainties ; 
 And any hour may cut the cord that binds. 
 Is that my lord of Newburgli tells a'Ou so ? 
 
 C. About uncertainties ? He tells about 
 A certainty that certainly has left 
 
 Me in uncertaint3^ 
 
 JB. Yes, that about 
 
 The horse. Who knows the pranks of Time? He lays 
 A cornucopia at our feet, when lo ! 
 Before we empty it, it vanislies. 
 
 C. The best of honiilies would ill befit 
 This hour. But I would find myself alone. \^Exeunt. 
 
OLIVEU f'ROMWELL. lOV 
 
 Here now remains whom only I may trust 
 
 [Pacing the floor. 
 In heart and hcafl. Yet have I trusted heart 
 And licad tliat failed me in the crucial hour. 
 'JMiere is my weakness ; for I own myself 
 Most weak in trusting most untrusty men. 
 No odds — the head without the heart to will 
 Me well, or heart without the head to work 
 Me well. Both are alike untrusty — twin 
 Abortions to necessity. I must 
 Re-crown, control, assert, enforce myself, 
 lioth heart and head must do oheisance to 
 The king, or not demand of subjects what 
 The king denies himself. Charles Stuart ! mount 
 Thy throne of selfhood. Be a real king — 
 A king in kingliness of purpose, in 
 Inflexibility of will, in grip 
 To hold the opportunities, and in 
 Vicariate divinity, to do 
 Divinely where the human fails. Enough. 
 My deepest instincts answer with a pledge. 
 It shall be so. By heaven, it shall be so ! — 
 But Nature whispers through the avenues [Sitting down. 
 Of sense, inviting sleep. Come, charmer, come. 
 Come — come. [He sleeps. A pause. Warvnck enters. 
 
 W. [Charles awaking], I feared the silence boded 
 hap of ill. 
 
 C. Whatever haps is ill. Ill is 
 
 Indigenous and, in the summer of 
 My wakefulness, is bannered like 
 The forest with its leaves, while wintry sleep 
 Supplies its roots with nourishment, in di-eams. 
 
 IVi Let not my royal master lack in heart. 
 While drawing nearer to the country's heart. 
 
 C. Ah, Warwick ! even kini^s are cowards when 
 The circumstances strike their wc>akcst side. 
 
108 Ol.lVKK iKOMWELL, 
 
 But tliou hast toucliod a cliortl that comforts me. 
 
 I liavo the country's lioart ; ami having tliat, 
 
 In London once, I shall be all myself, 
 
 And bid tliese konnel-litterod louts exeunt. 
 
 I will compose mj'self and wait events. 
 
 When angels come they seek us, not u e thoni. [Ejccnnt. 
 
 ScEXE VI. TJie House of Coiiunons. 
 Cronncell. The lords refuse to try the king. Note ye 
 What this imports : not disagreement in 
 A verdict, but a verdict in advance ; 
 That either he is by tlic laws acquit. 
 Or is not answerable to the laws ; 
 By which they ]>ut themselves above the laws, 
 AVliile setting us at naught. Such arrogance 
 We must, as men, rebuke ; as guardians of 
 The realm, resist, or do dishonor to 
 Ourselves ; to it, a treasonous wrong. Wiio are 
 These kingish mightinesses that would take 
 ITs by the ears? Who but malignants, in 
 Whose every drop of blood is venom rank 
 Enough to kill a people's liberties? 
 Wlio but a fledging brood, from desj)ots who. 
 For centuries, picked the country's bones, when he 
 Of Normandy had tirst pecked out her eyes ? 
 Here, now, they claim as their prerogative — 
 In perpetuity and unimpaired — 
 The right to craunch the bones without a nay. 
 In sooth, their sympathies and interests, as 
 A class, are alien to our wishes, ways. 
 And weal. They are lum-English at the core. 
 Because the breath of their abnormal life 
 Is breathed into their nostrils by the king, 
 The}' fawn before him and ignore the realm. 
 Thus would they lay Oblivion's hand upon 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 109 
 
 'IMie )'ears, to blot out blood and inomoiy of 
 
 Tilt" jmst. Oblivion's hand ! (Jblivion for 
 
 The king's malfeasances, and gibbets for 
 
 The representatives of England, of 
 
 The laws, of progress, of humanity. 
 
 I Jut no ! These royal lickspits may not filch 
 
 From us the guerdon that it cost such blood 
 
 To gain. Lick we the dust from (Jharlcs's feet 
 
 Rather than be but carrion for his dogs. 
 
 These supernumerary somnambulists 
 
 May be informed that England, who is wide 
 
 Awake, defers not to the drowsy nod 
 
 Of their dictation, nor desires assent 
 
 To what she does. She can dispense with this 
 
 Bi-cameral device, by wliich these warts, 
 
 Or parasites, upon the royal skin. 
 
 Cling to the carcass that has battened them. 
 
 Who dared to call the master to account 
 
 Will not crouch craven at his minions' feet. 
 
 But, not to make my thunder of the wind, 
 
 I move that we proceed without the lords. 
 
 Ask not for precedents that tyrants forged 
 
 Amid the smoke of a vulcanic age ; 
 
 For not a wrong but it is gewgawed o'er 
 
 With them. No t(.'non-precedent can fit 
 
 The case ; since not a mortise-precedent 
 
 Is there to match. Since earth first whirled upon 
 
 Her axis like was never known. The king 
 
 Assumed to be as God, exempt from law. 
 
 The lords, with us, rebuked his arrogance. 
 
 Arrested him and placed him in duress. 
 
 Now they would stultify themselves and us. 
 
 Stopping their ears when he is asked to plead, 
 
 And bidding us acquit. Acquit, and say 
 
 That he is innocent? Acquit, and brand 
 
 Ourselves as traitors all these years? Acquit, 
 
110 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 And relegate the realm to liim who was 
 
 Its bane ? Acquit, and justity tlie deeds 
 
 That made the very heart of Justice bleed? 
 
 Acquit, and gather up, and weld, and wear 
 
 Again the cliains Me burst and cast away ? 
 
 Tins they would have ; but this we will not give. 
 
 No ! never, while a drop of English blood 
 
 Is left to quicken us. Our course was just, 
 
 And is, and so shall be maintained ; and what 
 
 Remains to do shall find its precedent 
 
 In what is done ; which had the lords' assent : 
 
 For trial is the sequence of arrest. 
 
 The}^ helped us into this, to leave us now 
 
 To help ourselves. And so we will, and stand 
 
 By Justice as he stands by us, 
 
 Ludlow. The land 
 
 Is foul with blood — blood that the king has spilt. 
 Then let him brave the brunt of consequence 
 And blot out blood with blood. I ask no lords' 
 Authorit}'^ for what we do. We have 
 Authority from Ilim the Lord of lords. 
 To Ilim comes next the people, as of old, 
 Ere Israel lusted after heathen ways. 
 When these are speaking kings must bare their heads. 
 Tis now they speak ; then now the king must doff. 
 Let lords stand by and snuff, and yet beware 
 Lest they exceed their tether. Law at last 
 Is throned. 
 
 Bradshaw. Preceding action of the lords 
 Avows the king amenable to law, 
 Or their resistance had been treason else. 
 Resisting, they condemned him of offense 
 Against the laws, which, by arresting, they 
 Apprise him to confront. Now, they refuse 
 Arraignment at its bar. What must be done? 
 Either the laws must be enforced or set 
 
OLiVKK CROMWKLL. Ill 
 
 At naught. The latter must not be. But how 
 The former yd remains. The lords have gone 
 So far that, in retreating, they condemn 
 Themselves as in contempt of duty, hence,- 
 As cowardly : and cowardice to-day 
 Is treason to the realm. Thus is the realm 
 Betrayed ; which leaves but us between its weal 
 And woe. Should we be false as they, then what 
 Both they and we invoked the people to 
 Resent, and branded as high crimes, would leave 
 The ashes of their ignominy and 
 Be rampant in their utter wantonness. 
 One only question, then, remains : have we 
 The courage to arraign the prisoner for 
 His crimes and execute the laws, or shall 
 Old England's only hope prove traitor with 
 The rest ? Shall the uplifted dagger cleave 
 Her heart, or we avert the blow ? To that 
 This day will give its answer. 
 
 Ireton. Answer ! I 
 
 Can feel an answer hot in every drop 
 Within my veins. Ireton my name, the ire 
 Of righteousness is in my blood. Justice 
 Is what we want, and Justice we must have. 
 The laws are king nor must they be dethroned ; 
 But he, their arch transgressor, must account 
 To them. No time is this for shuffling off 
 Responsibility ; no time for quirks 
 To elbow duty from our path ; no time 
 To ease our grasp on what these years have seized ; 
 No time to slirink from vindicating what 
 Is done. But since the lords have shewn their backs, 
 'Tis ours to shew the bolder face. Where quail 
 The cowards let the brave step in. We yet 
 May have to try the lords. Ay, let my words 
 Ring out until they sting their ears. No time 
 
112 OLIVKU CKOMWELL, 
 
 Is this to use oU'ctuarios ; but 
 It asks a drastic rouiody. Tliou let 
 The lords be circumspect ; for Justice is 
 A daugerous toy to phiy with. 
 
 Harrison. I have seen 
 
 And heard the king's deceits to surfeiting. 
 He lias a plausibility that wins 
 The weak, as sunshine opens flowery eyes. 
 Perchance, the glitter of his royalty's 
 (ilatnour dazzles as does the serpent's eye. 
 Hut those who can outstare him, see profounds 
 Of treachery where the venom lies ; treachery 
 That our surveillance has increased. As well 
 Hunt shadows in a fog as honesty 
 In him. Yet can his tongue be smooth — to cut 
 The more. And many lords, I ween, have been 
 Emasculated by its lancet edge. 
 Beware of him. There is a something in 
 His atmospheric presence that portends 
 A storm ; from which our covei't is the laws. 
 A storm, I say ; of which this action of 
 The lords is a precursive sign. Let us 
 To covert, then, and so outwile his wiles. 
 
 C. What inkling has escaped the leash of his 
 Reserve ? 
 
 II. Less in his tongue's dubieties 
 
 Than in the nakedness of deeds. Secrets 
 In soft susurrus wafted to his ear ; 
 Solicitude to meet with divers lords, 
 Whose very names caused his auroral hopes 
 To light his face with unctuous confidence, 
 Which gave his voice a fitful bravery ; 
 The old pretension to divinity 
 Re-emphasized, and the rent veil between 
 llis sanctity and us revamped ; these and 
 A residue of miuur iudiccs, 
 
Ol.lVKK CllOMWlCLL, 113 
 
 Coiijiiiictivp with the action of the lords, 
 
 15t'liayed collusion in a general schenie. 
 
 The rent veil, I have said. And such it was, 
 
 Until T s:iw the ark of royalty 
 
 Jleyond ; which is a bandbox, bursting-full 
 
 Of fripperies — a sacred relic of 
 
 A heathen age — from which, no doubt, the lords 
 
 Are hoping for a periapt. 
 
 Sidney. To gain 
 
 Our goal we must not run with bandaged eyes. 
 'Tis meant to rid us of the king. What then ? 
 Methinks 'twould make old England's blood run cold 
 With ague-horror, and return to us 
 In fever's raging fire. A commonwealth 
 May be when circumstances joint the times. 
 Hut royal blood would add no strength to it. 
 Then spare his blood ; but paralyze his power. 
 Prudence has greater potency than wrath. 
 Expunge his title, we will cipher liim ; 
 For Charles, as Charles, were nauglit. 
 
 C. Sir Algernon ! 
 
 I am astonished — yea, surprised, amazed. 
 To see your prudence run amuck in this 
 Imprudent way. When done, no dog will bark. 
 Facts have solidity that even fools 
 Will recognize. Hence we propose to end 
 Uncertainty and close the argument 
 With fact. You think the realm would have the sword 
 Of justice rust. I tell you nay. 'Tis sick 
 At heart to see the Janus-faccdness 
 And paltering of the king, and sick of us 
 For shivering on tlie brink of duty when 
 We ought to plunge, 
 
 Grohy. We have the right ; and right 
 
 It is to do the right. The king is wrong ; 
 And wrong it cannot be to punish wrong. 
 
Ill oi.i\i:u cKoMW i:i.i.. 
 
 Tlio laws have Ih'cmi tioficd — as c'cii the Umls 
 Admil — and must assert themselves through the 
 Supremest legal power ; which now wo are. 
 The teclinieal conceits that pettifog, 
 And carp, and stickle lor the red-tape that 
 Would strangle Justice, must not make us swerve 
 Or hesitate. Who now would spart- the king 
 Ignores the laws, and so betrays the realm ; 
 And so opposes God, who made and guards 
 The realm ; and so is under ban, both of 
 His country's laws and God's almightiness. 
 Heaven save us from the treason of the lords ! 
 
 C. Such hours as these inspire heroic souls, 
 And drive the craven like affrighted hares. 
 Let us, agreed, be heroes in our deeds, 
 And so escape eternal obloquy, 
 Which would be earned should we be falterers now. 
 The ages never gave a holier task, 
 A grander sweep of opportunities. 
 To mortal man than here is offered us. 
 Let not our cowardice belittle us 
 And dub us ])igmies <>{ a giant age. 
 I move that we juH^cecd without the lords ; 
 And let them shiver in their loneliness. 
 
 Vi'i.dton. The Ruler of the earth has shut us up 
 To this procedure, that Timidity 
 May have a stouter heart and force the realm 
 Into the forefront as the plaintiff, that 
 The king may see what back received his blows. 
 It is The People— rc/vs-^."?— Charles. Then let 
 llim face a bleeding realm, and learn that no 
 (^ollusion with the lords can parry justice. 
 Hence I support the motion to proceed. \_Excu)it. 
 
ULlVKli ( Ko.MWKI.L, 115 
 
 Scene VII. St. James's Palace. Present, IlEnnERT, 
 
 the Bishop of London, and others. Enter Duke of 
 Gloster and Klizaheth, with Attendants. 
 
 Gloster \^Kiss'mg'\. O father ! will they kill you as 
 they sa}'- ? 
 
 Charles. Yea, child. They always keep their word 
 in what 
 Is ill ; and this is ill enough for them 
 To keep it now. 
 
 G. I wonder why it is 
 
 That badness has no check, but good men have 
 To die. How can they kill a king, when it 
 Were almost killing God ? 
 
 C God lias a bunch 
 
 Of kej'S called Whys, which hang beyond our reach. 
 Could we but take them down, we might unlock 
 A haunted room and wish ourselves away. 
 
 G. Oh, what will mother say to this, or what 
 We do when left alone with wicked men ? 
 
 C. Heaven help thee ! Break not now a father's 
 heart. 
 
 G. No, no ! I fain would mend it so that it 
 Sliould never have a crack, but, like a top. 
 Jump round and round. 
 
 C. A filial wish, Avelling 
 
 From nature's fount. But wishes are no more 
 Than heart-hands reaching for the flowers beyond 
 Their grasp. jVIy son, thou now canst give my heart 
 A balm to sooth its dying hour. 
 
 G. You need 
 
 But name it and my heart will junij) to do 
 The deed, e'en should you ask the melting of 
 The marrow in my bones to make a salve. 
 
 0. Thou mindest what I said at Hampton (^ourt 
 About them kin<jin<f thee 'i 
 
llo 
 
 oi,i\ i:k ( komw i:i.i. 
 
 G. I tlo ; aiul what 
 
 I said is ileopor in my hoart, till 1 
 Could wish myself a toad, to poisiui who 
 INlioht touch my warty skin to make me kiuix. 
 
 C Tiiat stick to thoo, liko o-raco to infant souls 
 Wlu'u passed the font, and all the unetion that 
 A father's memory hath will rest ujton 
 Thy soul. 
 
 (f. Let them with pincers pull me, tooth 
 
 1>\- tooth and bone by bone, and eho[> my llesh 
 Like Christmas minee ; but every tooth would cvy, 
 Slaek not ; and every bone, Pull on ; while the 
 liast bit of tlesh defied them and refused 
 'i\> be a king'. 
 
 />i\'i/ioj>. Thou hast the mettle of 
 
 A kini::. [^lcx'/(/<?. 
 
 C. God grant thy brotlier Charles as brave 
 
 A heart ! 
 
 6^. Does Crod give hearts? 
 
 C. Good hearts are gifts 
 
 Of TTis. 
 
 (r. 1 would he had some for the men 
 
 ^Vho want your lil\'. 
 
 ('. lie wills to let them have 
 
 Their way, to learn at length, perchance, how bad 
 They are. 
 
 G. They inight to see it now. Can you 
 
 [ 7<) f/w J>iti/iojt of London. 
 Not tell them, bislu>p, what a dreadful thing 
 It is to kill a king ? 
 
 /)'. Nay, if they kill 
 
 Tiie master they will give the servant but 
 An adder's i>ar. 
 
 (;. What kind oi ear is that? 
 
 7>. An ear that will not heed. 
 
 G, That kind they have, 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 117 
 
 Or they woulcl hear the thumping of my heart 
 Cry out for \nty. 
 
 C. Come, my daughter ; let 
 
 .Afe see thy face and tind thy mother's lips ♦ 
 In thine. [T/iei/ embrace and kiss."] Dear innocent! 
 
 How pale thou art ! 
 And wliat dark wrinkles where the waves of grief 
 Have beaten on the beaches of thine eyes ! 
 Care has devoured the sweet and tender chit 
 Of thy susceptive heart. The legacy 
 Tliy father leaves is but his blessing and 
 The memory of his woes. But they may be 
 Thy soul's best wealth. When I am gone, keep thou 
 The image of this heaven-dewed hour beside 
 Thy heart to sanctify thy loneliness. 
 Remember, that thou wert a lilj'' on 
 The bosom of his thoughts, yielding a sweet 
 Perfume. 
 
 £!. The world is lonesome — lonesome as 
 
 An empty room whose echoes startle one. 
 How can I say good-by ? O Heaven ! that earth 
 Should have so little heart ! 
 
 C. This is the death 
 
 Of Death. The death that follows tliis will but 
 lie undertaker to m}^ poor remains. 
 
 -E What will the world be worth when you are gone ? 
 
 C. O darling ! God and duty will remain 
 To thee. Keep thou thy heart beneath Heaven's light, 
 That 80 the petals of its purity 
 May open with a noontide loveliness 
 And shew the sunflanie glowing in its life. 
 Seek thou thy mother. Tell her — oh, my lords ! 
 
 [ Weeping. 
 The arrow sticks. [A pause. 
 
 Q. Oh ! I could kill them all ! 
 
 \^Sobhhtg. 
 
118 OI.lVKIi CHOMWKI-L. 
 
 <J. Nay, say not so. And yet — poor child ! Nature 
 Will mock our prim moralities. Tell thou S^To E. 
 
 Thy mother, that tliy fatlier's heart was with 
 Iler to the last. Be true to her. Honor 
 His love by loving for thyself and him. 
 And thou too, Glostei', look to her as now 
 I l'H)k to heaven. A better friend will not 
 Be left behind. And now the final wrench. 
 We have to part. Farewell ! Heaven keep you as 
 The jewels of its crown ! \E.Vinnt O., E., and Attendants. 
 
 C. A weary way ! 
 
 But I am near my joui'ney's end ; wlu>re is 
 My heart already, with the world beliind. 
 Take ye the world — its pomps and vanities — 
 Who want ! I want it not. What is it but 
 A bursting- bubble of pretense, which, when 
 We trust it, vanishes ? ^[y portion is 
 lieyond the filching lingers of the 5a\ars, 
 Well locked in the imperishable vaults 
 Of the eternal, where my kinghood has 
 Its highest royalties. I would forget 
 The past — so dark with its ingratitudes 
 And crimes — in this the midnight of my wrongs. 
 These murderous rogues are bent upon my life. 
 
 7?. To tliink of them will oidy mar your peace ; 
 A thing half sacrilegious at the gate 
 Of heaven, where now you are. 
 
 C. Let Memory, then, 
 
 Evict them from her precincts, and my heart 
 Forgive the madness of their crimes. Yea, let 
 Them take my life, if so tlie Giver wills. 
 1 grudge Him not, since what He gave is His. 
 lie pleased to give it, by myself unsought, 
 .Vnd holds me to account for proper use. 
 My 'trust concluded. He demands account. 
 Wlio knows what ills this early call escapes ? 
 
(M.IVKU ( UoMWKLI.. 119 
 
 The fuliiro — ah ! none penetrate its mists. 
 ]\Iay He jn-oserve the realm in spite of man, 
 Who madly throws the pilot overboard. 
 
 Ji. The anchor of Heaven's purposes diiags not ; 
 And let men drift, the shores of truth remain. 
 Your Majesty may comfortably rest 
 In thouij^hts like these, as on a bed of down, 
 And wait the sleep from which you wake with God. 
 
 C. Most reverend lord ! My conscience and my God 
 Are all-sufficient comforters, '^'he one 
 Acquits of ill ; the other gives all good. 
 Enough. I must prepare to close mine eyes. 
 Earth's twilight and heaven's dawn are kissing now. 
 
 \_l!}xeunt. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Scene I. A coffee-house in London. 
 
 First Citizen. So pitiful it was, the way he died — 
 So like a king, while tender as a child ; 
 Composed and dignified, and nimbused with 
 Divinity, like mountain tops, at dawn, 
 Sheened with ethereal gold. He must have been, 
 IJy many mountain summits, nearer heaven 
 Than most men thought ; and, in exchanging worlds, 
 He had not far to fare. 
 
 Second Cit. P('rliaps his heart 
 
 Contained the grace of royalty ; but there 
 It stayed, like a secpiestered monk, who does 
 The world no good. Had all his life been as 
 His tlying hour, liis earlier deeds been as 
 His later state, posterity had known 
 Him as Saint (-harles. Pereliance Death rid 
 Him of tlic b.id, and made the good seem as 
 A diaiiioiid found in mire. 
 
ll'O OLIVER CROAIWELI., 
 
 First C'lt. Wlio knows but, bad 
 
 We filled bis place, Ave migbt bave done bis way ? 
 
 Second Cit. Tben bad we botb felt steel. 
 
 Third Cit. You botb bad strode 
 
 Tlie stage of life besrautted as tbe fiend 
 Tliat rules tlie pit, and made your exeunt as 
 Tlie saints of circumstance. A pity 'tis 
 Tliat circumstances did not keep tbe king 
 A-dying all bis life. 
 
 First Cit. "^^J, give a dog 
 
 The credit of his decencies ; mucb more 
 A king. 
 
 Third Cit. Credit for croucbing wben be feels 
 The whip ? Justice bad caught the king, and Deatb 
 Was whipping him. This made his conscience whine. 
 And wrought in him politic penitence ; 
 A cat-o-nine-tails decency ; a shrewd 
 Commercial sanctity ; a gallows hope. 
 We need to thank the gentlemen who made 
 A saint of bim and guarded 'gainst relai^se. 
 
 First Cit. Methinks that every life is but a rope, 
 Twisted by circumstances to its girth 
 And grain. Had we been kings, the texture of 
 Our minds, in all the convolutions of 
 Their thoughts, been formed like bis, we should have 
 
 been 
 His moral duplicates, twining, like vines. 
 Around the self-same ideal as our pole. 
 
 Third Cit. Call thought, will, deed, the iron bands of 
 our 
 Environment, which bind us slaves to Fate. 
 Tben Fate, as master, will apply tbe lash. 
 Say one must murder — be must, therefore, lose 
 His head ; or sin, be must be damned. Causes 
 And consequences are but two in name. 
 Halves of one whole. But none are slaves except 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 121 
 
 As they enslave tliemselves. Though Charles could not 
 
 Be Arthur, Arthur Cliarles, each liad a hand 
 
 In giving destiny a sha})e — master 
 
 Of circumstances this as that the slave ; ♦ 
 
 And both by choice. 
 
 First Cit. True, Charles was free within 
 
 A circle of infirmity ; and yet 
 No less a slave, with a long chain at best. 
 
 Third Cit. A slave to an infirmity of will, 
 When Truth and Right were knocking at his door ; 
 Yet strong enough to rise and bar them out. 
 Not negative infirmity his fault — 
 A conquered conscience and a tyrant will 
 Were the two gyves of Fate that held hira fast. 
 Hence Arthur is embalmed while Charles will rot. 
 
 First Cit. Have not so harsh a tongue to rasp a king 
 Whose tongue is still. Death has a mantle for 
 The faults of all. 
 
 TJiird Cit. Too scant to cover his. 
 
 Faults that are as dead leaves we brush away. 
 What stay, like festering thorns, after the bush 
 Is burnt, we execrate. He gave the pain 
 Of many punctures while he lived. Now the 
 Extracting of the thorns remains. 
 
 Fourth Cit. \^Entering~\. The world 
 
 Is coming to an end. 
 
 Third Cit. 'Twas ne'er so near. 
 
 Fourth Cit. 'Tis horrible, past horrible ; yea, it 
 Is sacrilegious, laying murderous hands 
 Upon the sacred person of a king. 
 They amplified and magnified his faults. 
 His faults ? Heaven save me ! Who am I to say 
 His faults ? Or who are they, the Bedlam scum ! 
 To judge a king of faults ? I disbelieve 
 The utmost syllable of what they charged 
 Whose daring did this diabolic deed. 
 
122 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 None knows the end when such like deeds begin. 
 The throne is gone ; the church will go ; and then 
 The realm, the — everything will go ; and us 
 To boot. 
 
 Third Cit. End thou thy speech ere ends the world. 
 
 Fourth Cit. End or no end, but little boots us now, 
 When England comes to such an end as this. 
 M\^ very marrow boils, as though a touch 
 Of judgment and of doom were in my bones, 
 As a presentiment of what awaits 
 This realm. 
 
 Third Cit. Thou must be in a stew to have 
 Such fire about thy bones. 
 
 Fourth Cit. Tlie world \\ill feel 
 
 It ere an age be gone — to lose a king 
 In such a shameful way. I wonder that 
 The sun has heart to shine. 
 
 Third Cit. No doubt its heart 
 
 Is hot as thine. But oh, poor world ! that fails 
 For want of Charles's back to carry it. 
 What did the world before it had a Charles ? 
 So let it do now Charles is with the worms. 
 
 Fourth Cit. Pie was a king — the very hand of God, 
 To execute His justice in the earth. 
 
 Tliird Cit. No churl but matched the color of his blood. 
 His chin wagged like a beggar's when he ate. 
 The toothache wrung from him a vulgar groan. 
 The axe came down as on a Tyburn rogue. 
 But his divinity ! Whence got he that? 
 From pojjish Mary's son ? or Noah's ark ? 
 
 Fourth Cit. A king. There is 'twixt that and common 
 words 
 A difference as between a million and 
 A milliontli. But these desecrating knaves 
 Have wiped their feet on it, and cast it out 
 For every vagabond to trample on. 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 123 
 
 Power, God-invested, claims profound respect, 
 With worsliipfulncss in the supple knco. 
 But what presumption, madness, villainy. 
 Impiety, to touch its ark ! This tells 
 The tale why such unnumbered ills have seized 
 Us like the plague. 
 
 Third Cit. The greater power remains. 
 
 Fourth Cit. It is satanic power. 
 
 Third Cit. Then Satan is 
 
 The greater powei*. 
 
 Fourth Cit. Nay, evil is allowed 
 
 To raise its head that Heaven may strike it off. 
 
 Third Cit. So Charles raised bis and it is gone. 
 
 Fourth Cit. Devil 
 
 Or man, thou bast the Devil's heart, to mock 
 The memor}^ of a martyred king. 
 
 Third Cit. Then once 
 
 It was a great archangel's heart. Fie on 
 Thy flattery ! I am but a man. He thy 
 Great king was barely that, or he bad still 
 Been king. 
 
 Second Cit. 'Tis true, he had his faults. 
 
 Fourth Cit. Enough, 
 
 Perchance, to be a man. But be was king. 
 
 Third Cit. Others there are who king the king ; hence 
 must 
 Be more than king. Then reverence power in them. 
 
 Fourth Cit. What ! Cromwell and the like ? the 
 renegades 
 And regicides, with blood upon their hands ! 
 Beshrew me if I come to that. 
 
 Third Cit. Forget 
 
 Not that a dead man's band lacks gripe to save 
 Thee from the quick. 
 
 Fourth Cit. A dead king's memory may 
 
 Have potence that a living rebel lacks. 
 
124 OI.IVKR CROMWKLI,. 
 
 T/ih-d C((. Boliko, were Cronnveirs lieart the heart 
 of Charles, 
 Thy tongue would reverence him with silence. But 
 Great men endure wliat pigmies would resent. 
 Hence even calumny may vent itself 
 When greatness rules the hour. 
 
 Fourth Cit. Nay, say not force 
 
 Is greatness — brute, malignant force. T'is but 
 The greatness of the ox that gores. 
 
 Third Cit. There is 
 
 Move greatness in a Cromwell's finger than 
 Tlie whole of Charles. 
 
 Fourth Cit. Heaven curse thee down from head 
 
 To foot, and shrive my soul for talking with thee ! 
 
 [I\ih^hi/i(/ to the door he runs (U/aiust a waiter, 
 who has a cup of coffee. 
 
 Waiter. Zounds ! what were eyes intended for? 
 
 Third Cit. ' Pity 
 
 The blind who has kiiig's-ovil in his eye. 
 
 Fourth Cit. Hang it ! That stain will never leave my 
 doublet. 
 
 TT And what of me, and all the coffee spilt ? 
 
 T/iird Cit. That bodes ill luck to royalists. [Fvit 
 Fourth Cit.] Look at 
 This diaries, wlto thought to be a doctor Faust, 
 To conjure with a crown. In nature but 
 A porcupine, he rolled himself within 
 Himself and shewed the people but his quills. 
 His pseudo majesty of selfhood shut 
 C^ut love, except the love of self. Admit 
 His friendship. That he had — enough to use 
 A friend. 
 
 /Second Cit. Indeed, lie used poor Strafford as 
 A staff, then cast him off. 
 
 Third Cit. A kingly deed— 
 
 The quintessence of Charles ! yet men adored 
 
OLIVER CROMWKLL. 125 
 
 Him as a god enshrined in royalty. 
 But look at Cromwell, who has loomed up, like 
 A mountain from a fog, into ihv blue, 
 And «)vorto{)s them all. lie mostly lives 
 Outside himself. Hence his periphery 
 Of life has lavixo circumference. lie has 
 The girth and stature of a man ; and when 
 lie moves the foes of England <|uail. I ])in 
 No faith to men who always fail. Hut those 
 Who touch the times with JMldas-lingers, and 
 Transmute their gross events to gold, unlock 
 The temple gate of Fame and enter in. 
 
 Second Cit. Think'st thou that Cromwell will be king? 
 
 lyiird CU. Ay, king 
 
 Of men, by being kingliest of them all. 
 But whether king encrowncd exceeds my reach. 
 Time tells his secrets when and how he will, 
 And we must wait the motions of his lips. yJExeunt. 
 
 Scene II. Wiiitelockb and Widdrington meet in 
 Hyde Park. 
 
 Whitelocke. This day shews Nature in a gaudy trim. 
 With sky and earth as 'twere their bridal day. 
 Yet man is absonant and ill awr}'. 
 
 Widdrhufton. Awry with discontent on every rung 
 Of life, if but because he fails to find 
 A cause for discontent. Even a Charles, 
 Though tiptoed on the top, would still ascend. 
 Until he found the bottom, sans a head. 
 
 Wh. lie ami the throne were woefully mismatched. 
 His littleness had much too large a j)lace. 
 He was a penny in a puncheon ; and 
 Because he filled it with a noise, he thought, 
 Forsooth, that Charles could cram infinity. 
 What pity Cromwell lacks the royal blood I 
 
126 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 He is a rainbow, shining brightest on 
 The blackest cloud, foretokening the calm. 
 
 Wid. We need at least a kingly substitute, 
 AVho has the inward girth of royalty. 
 To fill the vacant palace of the king ; 
 For never exigence was great as this. 
 
 W/i. No cothurned pigmy will avail us now. 
 Our needs demand the stature of a man ; 
 And Cromwell is the manliest man we have. 
 Search England through we cannot find his match. 
 He is a king by the divinest riglit — 
 That of God-given ability to rule. 
 More kingly is he in exploits than king 
 Has been since famous Alfred's day. Not that 
 It might be best to top him with the crown ; 
 For, were a subject kinged, the years might hatch 
 Us candidates for kiiighood thick as flies. 
 Still, were he such, his actions would befit. 
 
 Wid. A paradox, my lord. A king by right 
 Whom rightly we refuse. Divinity 
 And policy at loggerheads. The way 
 The times are, everything is paradox. 
 As though the realm were standing on its head. 
 Never, belike, was seen the like before. 
 Cromwell, you think, could set things on their feet. 
 Perhaps, if so he would. But know you not 
 That wit and will are seldom on good terms? 
 
 W/i. Methinks tliat Cromwell has both wit and will. 
 
 Wid. He has the wit to see what stroke to make ; 
 The nimbleness to strike when strokes will tell ; 
 But he has felt ambition, which can turn 
 Tlie mightiest brain, and wreck the greatest soul. 
 Ambition is the offspring of the pit. 
 It obfuscates the mind, till selfishness 
 Puts on a cowl and hood, })la3-ing the monk, 
 And waxes fat by fasting in pretense. 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 127 
 
 It most deceives wlio tliiiik themselves sincere ; 
 For, tliinkiiig so, their conscience goes to sleep 
 And lets the passions dally with the will, ♦ 
 Which then becomes a blind impelling force. 
 Having no purpose save to spend itself. 
 That blindness was the hand of Fate to Charles. 
 Worse were the blindness with a greater force. 
 
 Wh. I deem divine what makes a master man ; 
 And Croinwoll, master of the masters, is 
 Divinost of divine among mankind. 
 But as he has, he still may serve the realm. 
 Unthroned. You charge him with ambition. 'Tis 
 Ambition rules the world ; and so he proves 
 His power to rule. Ambition's object gives 
 It character. If fair it be to judge 
 The object by the deed, his object is 
 To serve. England is what his hand has made her. 
 Scotland has felt his fist, Ireland his foot. 
 While England, like a mother, hangs upon 
 His arm. Hence his ambition wakes no fear ; 
 
 Wicl. Tlie less we fear the more there is to fear ; 
 For our security supplies the door 
 Of entry to the most he may desire. 
 Who plans surprises tells not of his plans. 
 But lulls the watchers to security. 
 Go follow Colonel Cromwell, step hy step, 
 Through all the winding paths of power, and see 
 How well he gave the opportunities 
 A turn, to gain this eminence. Admit 
 The j)ure integrity of his intent. 
 Now is a deeper impulse urging him. 
 With an intensifying eagerness. 
 To reach the throne. Ambition blindest is 
 With doubtful motives at its back, while yet 
 It wears the plume and breastplate of a good 
 Intent. Such blindness may be Lis. If his 
 
128 OLiYKK (■RO>rwr:LT.. 
 
 It be, look out for Whitelocke ; look out all 
 Of us. Success, like scorpions, often kills 
 Who gave it birth. Act we the constable 
 And give this subject gyves, then question it. 
 Ask whether power to rule conveys the right. 
 If so, then Power wore king ; and greater power 
 Would king both king and realm ; and greater still, 
 Grind us to dust. But here is not our sole 
 Alternative while royal stock abounds. 
 
 Wh. Ah ! there it is you touch the solid ground. 
 A royal scion on the throne, to j^lease 
 The superstitious craving of the realm, 
 With Cromwell as the sinew of the throne — 
 Its check and its support — our safety were 
 Assured. 
 
 Wld. We have the throne in hand ; so now, 
 The weaker king the easier to be held. 
 Here, then, our policy will be, to put 
 This greatest subject in the greatest place, 
 Subservient to the interests both of king 
 And us. So shall we stay the stomach of 
 Ambition with a compromise. 
 
 W/i. I fear 
 
 Me, Cromwell Avill not hear to it. Greatness 
 Is not entangled in a web of small 
 Contrivances. 
 
 Wld. The greatest elephant 
 
 Is none too great for man to take. 
 
 Wh. But here 
 
 We have an elephantine man, with head 
 To match his arm. 
 
 Wid. Our lead-and-line must sound 
 
 The depth of his designs. 
 
 Wh. So great a sea 
 
 Is fathomless. 
 
 Wid. Yet may we sound the shoals, 
 
OLIVKU CKOMWELL. 129 
 
 And estimate the nearness of tlie shore. 
 
 ^V7l. This meeting at tlie Speaker's may divulge 
 l>eyond liis forecast, sliouM our cars be at 
 Their post, and wit perceive the kernel of 
 His words. 
 
 Wid. Step we upon liis toes and, from 
 
 The way he ouches, learn his tender spot. [Mceunt. 
 
 Scene III. Speaker Lentiiall's. Members of Parlia- 
 ment seated in the large hall. 
 
 Speaker. {Addressmg Cromwell.) This company, my 
 lord, in coming here. 
 Does homage to your will. The business you 
 Are ready to propound is urgent as 
 The steps of Time, which cannot brook delay. 
 This people has been favored of the Lord, 
 Who blessed the forces given j^ou to command. 
 Allowing first our foes to shew their front, 
 He has rebuked tliem, giving you the skill. 
 And those you led the heart, to scatter them. 
 Now come the intricate necessities 
 Of peace, to bring from out the cliaos of 
 Affairs the order on whose solid base 
 Prosperity and permanence must rest ; 
 To lay the corner-stone of which we need 
 To choose our future form of government. 
 Here is demanded — not the prowess of 
 The sword, but the achievements of the mind ; 
 And should we fail to seek some settlement 
 According to His will whose arm has led 
 Us hitherto, we shall be culpable. 
 And worthy of the vials of His wrath ; 
 Which may we, by our diligence, avert. 
 
 Harrison. The question that demands our thought is 
 this : 
 
130 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Having the power vouclisafod, what settlement 
 
 Can we devise, to make our civil and 
 
 Religious liberties secure to us 
 
 And permanent for our posterity ; 
 
 So that the mercies of the Lord may not 
 
 Be cast away, as if in thanklessness ? 
 
 With this great question we are e3'e to eye. 
 
 Whitelocke. Great question ? Ay, and passing great ; 
 nor one 
 To answer with a hasty tongue, but as 
 A problem of eternity. Yet here 
 Is the incarnate wisdom that has been 
 Our safety when the midnight gloomed. It were 
 A pity should it fail us now, in this 
 The noonday of success. It need not fail. 
 We want a settlement of our affairs 
 Upon a base abiding as the stars. 
 Then ask we of the settlement desired ; 
 Its form, and how to be secured. Shall we 
 Set up an absolute republic ? or 
 Prefer we somewhat of a monarchy? 
 
 Cromicell. His lordship has the question by the ear. 
 Let us not suffer it to slip our hold. 
 What shall we settle — a republic or 
 Mixed monarchy ? If aught monarchical, 
 In whom shall monarchy reside? 
 
 Widdrington to WJiitelocJce [^Aside]. Now watch. 
 My lord. 
 
 C. 'Tis ours, as sponsors for the realm, 
 
 To say. 
 
 Wid. I think a monarch}^, with due 
 Restraints upon its power, most in accord 
 With ancient English laws, and suitable 
 To meet the nation's needs ; and we must keep 
 As near the shore of ancient custom as 
 Will save us from the reefs, lest, venturing forth 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 131 
 
 On unknown seas, we lose ourselves. Hence I 
 Conclude it safe, and just, and wise, that, if 
 We choose the monarchy, we phice the power 
 In one who represents his house who erst 
 Was king'. 
 
 I'^lcetwood. The question raised is greater than 
 The reahu has tussled with this many an age ; 
 And 'twill not yield without a struggle as 
 Of life or death. 
 
 St. John. A settlement without 
 
 A monarchy — one that would leave our laws 
 Unshaken at the base, while robbing not 
 The people of their liberties — would tax 
 The tension of our wits to breaking point. 
 The genius of our government is such — 
 Our laws and methods are so grafted in 
 It — that to drop the monarchy, yet save 
 The constitution and the people's rights. 
 Would be to drop the heavens yet save the stars 
 From wreck. Our choice will put our future in 
 The mold. 
 
 Sp. Did we dispense with monarchy. 
 
 We would invite Confusion to control 
 Our destinies. These kingdoms know of naught 
 But monarchy ; nor care to know. 
 
 Desborow. What deep 
 
 Perversity of heart, what rheumy, dull 
 Stupidity of head, prevents in us 
 What others do, that we can not, like them. 
 Be constituted a republic and 
 Succeed ? Old England need not curtsey to 
 The best on earth. We have the wit ; we have 
 The decency ; we have the loyalty 
 To match the best. What need we more ? 
 
 Wid. [Aside.'] See how 
 
 The lion whisks his tail. 
 
132 OLIVER CROMWKLL. 
 
 D. I trust her as 
 
 I would my mother's love. Why may not all ? 
 
 ^M^. England is not the musiiroom of a night. 
 Her institutions have been fed upon 
 The fat of time, deep in the subsoil of 
 The centuries, and may not be rudely torn 
 Away and leave her unimpaired. Yea, and 
 The monarchy is such a vital part — 
 Tiio very tap-root of the government — 
 That its excision so would dislocate 
 The forms and processes of law, the courts 
 Would be reduced to bedlam, anarchy ; 
 And twenty lifetimes might not see the end. 
 
 Whalk'ii. I own myself unskilled in matters of 
 The law. I know not all the labyrinths 
 In whicl) bewildered clients lose their all. 
 I am not versed in tech iiicali ties 
 That give to deeds the color of one's gold. 
 It baffles me to fathom why wo need 
 Tills costly tinsel glittering on a throne. 
 And baffled were we all, I ween, if asked 
 The why. But if we be so much bewitched 
 That king there must be, whom have we to choose ? 
 The king's first son is reddened witli our blood. 
 The next, in heart, is redder than our blood. 
 
 VTul. The Duke of (iloster still is in our midst. 
 And yet too young to have the virus of 
 Our enemies within his veins. Docile 
 And ductile in the uncorruption of 
 His boj-hood, we may mold his mind to fit 
 The office so that it will fit the realm. 
 
 lF7t. A day might be in which the eldest son — 
 Or in his lieu tlie Duke of Yoik — might come 
 Before the parliament and bind himself 
 By such conditions and restraints as would 
 Insure the realm against his prejudice. 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 133 
 
 And make innocuous all liis j^rc'sont spleen. 
 
 Misl'ortuii(% when it fools its utlerncss, 
 
 Will lifk tlie hand that laid its pride in dust. 
 
 C. Such answers answer not the question asked — 
 Suifgest not somew/ial of a monarchy, 
 liut recommend the resurrection of 
 'I'he king:, I'ancored and raging in the son 
 For red revenge. Kind him with contracts is 
 Proposed — with laws — with breath — with pen-and-ink. 
 Bind the north wind with spider webs ! Then may 
 You bind a Stuart with devices that 
 Would hold a man. 'Twere but to try, with odds 
 Against success, what failed l)efore. Think not 
 That you will ever read his heart, or eye, 
 Or lip. They are but convex mirrors that 
 Deceive the e^'e. Think not experience will 
 He eyesalve to his 3'outh. A Stuart learns 
 Jiut to improve on craft with deeper craft. 
 And how to grease a lie with greater show 
 Of guilelessness. 
 
 Wkl That theme inspires his tongue 
 
 To fluency. [To WL, aside.] 
 
 C. And yet the fact remains : 
 
 We need a settlement. We cannot drift 
 Without a helmsman on the open seas 
 And shun the rocks. The best-maJined ship is oft 
 In straits to make her port. If safely, and 
 W^itli preservation of our rights as men 
 And Christians, we can make a settlement, 
 With monarchy enough to give a head. 
 It will efTectually secure our weal. 
 But we have lield that we must have a king, 
 And he of some specific lump of clay. 
 As the sole stuff with kingly attributes. 
 I stigmatize tlie thought. We need a man, 
 lirought for liis fitness from the common lump. 
 
134 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Take ye your tliingling made of precious dirt ; 
 
 Approach it as an august mightiness ; 
 
 Address it as a god in miniature : 
 
 Soon we have more than liuman — as a fool. 
 
 Repeat tlie sire's undoing in the son : 
 
 We magnify tlie follies of the sire 
 
 And make one fit to be the king of fools. 
 
 This we have done until the arrogance 
 
 Of imbecility o'erstomachs us. 
 
 Now wisdom whispers in our car to seek 
 
 A man, whose heart, and head, and arm, the Lord 
 
 Has formed to finish Avhat is well begun. 
 
 Neccssit}^ is asking for the man. 
 
 God give us eyes to see the man avc need ! 
 
 Wh. That has a smack of reason after all. [Aside. 
 
 Wid. If but an honest heart be at its back, [^Exeimt. 
 
 Scene IY. In the park of Speaker Lentiiall. Crom- 
 well and Harrison sauntering. 
 Crotnioell. I know not where is Babel worse than that 
 We leave. I put a question. All grcAV big 
 With pomp of fluency, and, laboring hard. 
 Brought forth — a belch of wind. What heads to do 
 The thinking for a realm ! Some think that time 
 Is but a moping owl, blinking among 
 The ivied ruins of the past, screeching 
 The night away ; whereas it heralds us 
 The dawn that bids awake. Others would use 
 Proleptic haste, and make the sun rise from 
 A mangonel, to reach Utopia at 
 A bound. Familiar tilings grow frightfu^. in 
 A fog — since clothed in the surrounding garb 
 Of dreariness — and lose proportion both 
 In size and shape. Hence these, beholding through 
 A mental fog, see not the outlines of 
 
OLIVER CKOMWKLI,. 135 
 
 Affairs. Hence are tlieir troinbliiig wits afraid 
 
 To act : bar those who shut tlieir eyes 
 
 To leap, e'en should it be to doom. 'Tis now, 
 
 As never since this bloody strife began, 
 
 We need a falcon's eye to see our need. 
 
 And then a falcon's wing to make the stoop. 
 
 Instead, are fiddle-faddle, scamble, and 
 
 A malt-horse going round and round to nowhere. 
 
 Harrison. The parliament might be aroused to shew 
 The gristle of a sturdy will, and to 
 Outstep the shadow of its former self. 
 Numbers, we know, give confidence to act. 
 
 C. The parliament has found Cockaigne, in which 
 It lolls in drowsy listlessness, deeming 
 The years a well-aired bed of down, duties, 
 Lethean essences of flowers, to make 
 Voluptuous its repose. Its energy 
 Is but a windmill of garrulity. 
 The fact is, Major, that the parliament 
 Is but a hydra-headed Charles. It does 
 Not represent these kingdoms, but itself ; 
 And like its prototype, it wields the powers 
 Of government against the general will ; 
 While plotting to perpetuate itself. 
 Either to eternize its tyranny 
 Or smuggle to the throne the spawn of him 
 We spurned. 
 
 IT. Think you so much as that ? 
 
 C. If deeds 
 
 Have tongues their deeds say that ; which fact brings 
 
 fear 
 Lest patience has a faultiness, in thus 
 Enduring what we might prevent. 
 
 ir. Nay, have 
 
 We })ower to match the will, atid will to meet 
 The muscle of so great emergency ? 
 
136 OLIVER CROMWELL, 
 
 C. The Lord is match for all emergencies. 
 His riglit hand drew me from obscurity, 
 And placed me on an eminence of power, 
 Whence I could view the dangers, woes, and wants 
 Of this distracted realm, and urged me on 
 To deeds that were its medicine. The last 
 Obstruction to a cure remains : and worst 
 As well as last. He still is urging me 
 To use a thorough remedy. I shrink, 
 Like Moses, yet, like him, am driven before 
 This inward word of power, which bids me fare. 
 To act, I brave the parliament ; while not 
 To act, I brave the Lord : and veril}^ 
 Omnipotence is hard to brave ; but, at 
 My back. He gives omnipotence. I must — 
 Unless the parliament awake — I must 
 Proceed. 
 
 S. Still to deplete the house ? 
 
 a Aj, to 
 
 Dissolve it, and to send the sluggards to 
 Their homes, to drowse their lives away. 
 
 H. Dissolve, 
 
 My lord ! A daring thing were that. Then must 
 You wink at precedent and set the world 
 Agog. 
 
 C. These precedents are quivers, whence 
 The tyrant draws the arrows of oppression. 
 I heed them not. To-day is master of 
 To-day, not a galled slave that cringes at 
 The heels of 5'esterday, nor tyrant of 
 To-morrow. Every day has weather of 
 Its own. Hence yesterday's great-coat serves not 
 The sunshine of to-day. The Lord is not 
 Enmeshed with precedents. He turns 
 Not round to searcli behind for copies from 
 The past, but moves right on. So must we do ; 
 
OI.IVKli niOMWKLT,. 
 
 Nor lialt for luouiituiiis lying in our course, 
 Because we crossed tlieiu iiol before ; but- on, 
 Up, towards llie height of glory that awaits 
 Mankind. 
 
 // If only we could read His will — 
 
 An open book. 
 
 C Who, with His woi"d in hand. 
 
 His Spirit in the heart, wills well to do 
 Ilis will, is guided b}^ the truest light. 
 And shall not greatly err. I have that light ; 
 And in the most divine recess of soul, 
 Behind the arras of my grosser self, 
 A still-voiced mentor says : " Walk in the light." 
 
 \^Exeunt. 
 
 Scene V. House of Commons. Cromwell beckons 
 Harrisox, loho approaches and turns his ear. 
 
 Cromwell \Whisperin(J\. The time to act is come, and 
 act I must 
 As I would give account. Be firm. 
 
 Speaker. Are you 
 
 Ready for the question ? 
 
 Several members. Ready. Question. 
 
 Put it to the vote. Ready. Vote. 
 
 C. [Risi)if/,hatinhand]. My voice 
 
 Has not been heard ; nor had it been had not 
 Occasion forced me into speech. Believe 
 Me, what I say shall be from honest heart, 
 And honcstest of all its honesties. 
 The parliament of which you are both part 
 And an addendum, will, in history, seem 
 The ocean -rock on which a despot king 
 Has hurled his billows, to behold them crush 
 And crumble into futile foam. It has 
 Withstood the flabby doubts and craven fears 
 Which took the spirit out of weaker men 
 
OLIVER CROMWEl.L. 
 
 oft the coward wardcMi of their hearts, 
 ^uld not broatlie the faintest breath of blight 
 
 ■on a single leaf of amaranth 
 . I»at it has won. And yet, I have a word 
 Of truth, which, woe is me, as I regard 
 This realm and Ilim wlio siunmoiied me to its 
 Relief, if I withhold. Tiie scars of great 
 Injustices are on tiie army's heart, 
 Whose blood was given for you, for me, for all. 
 The land is in a mournful mood, because 
 Your leafy promises of amnesty 
 Were hollow at the heart. For life is nought 
 When you have robbed men of tlie means of life. 
 Those who, amid life's peltings of mishap, 
 Were overwhelmed, have found a dungeon doom. 
 And there you let them languisli year by 3'ear. 
 Two years have you, with ponderous arguments, 
 Been laboring at the laws, to shew results 
 That call for spectacles. The want of wants 
 Is, godly ministers to break the bread 
 Of life. But ye have left the souls of men 
 To starve. And now at last, to magnify 
 Your selfishness, to monarchize yourselves 
 On a perpetual whirligig of power — 
 
 Wentworth. This is strange language, Mr. Speaker, I 
 Protest ; such language as a parliament 
 Was never called till now to hear ; and this 
 From one, our servant, whom we trusted in 
 Good faith ; on whom our lavish honors have 
 Descended with the frequency of dew. 
 And the full copiousness of April showers ; 
 One whom — 
 
 C. Come, come ! enough of this. [Putting on 
 
 his hat and stepping forth.] 'Tis time 
 These pratings had an end ; whose emptiness, 
 For several mortal years, has soughed between 
 
OMVICK ( UOMWKLL, 139 
 
 These walls like wiiul-n^liosts in the woods. I will 
 
 No more. The army will no more ; the realm 
 
 No more. Nay, God himself is weary of 
 
 Your words. Such cumberers of the ground, in this 
 
 Tiie garden of the Lord, must come out by 
 
 The roots. Ye must. Ay, mnxt, aii<l shall ! It is 
 
 Unfit that ye should stay and keep the blush 
 
 On England's cheek, the fire within her heart. 
 
 Already you have been too long for aught 
 
 Tiiat you have done that wen> a credit to 
 
 The footmen at your heels. You now shall give 
 
 A j)lace to better men ; to men who have 
 
 Tiie nation in their heart, instead of self ; 
 
 Men who believe in God, instead of craft ; 
 
 Men who are armor-bearers for the truth ; 
 
 Yea, champions of the laws ; yea, heroes of 
 
 Humanity. Call them in. Call them in. \^2h Harrison. 
 
 Elder Musketeers. 
 You call yourselves a parliament. You are 
 No parliament. I tell you that you are 
 No parliament. You are but dingers to 
 The coat-tail of a parliament. You do 
 No more than represent yourselves. You are 
 Not wanted by the nation, as you know. 
 Hence have you made a sneak-hoh^ for j^ourselves, 
 Through which to creep and b(! a i)arliainent. 
 Some of you are drunkards — walking barrels, 
 I'^iill of yeasty wind, which makes your tongues wag. 
 Some live in stark conlempt of God's commands. 
 Slaves to your greedy appetites — 3'ou do 
 Your duty by the Devil's decalogue. 
 No wonder you are deaf when godly men 
 Cry out for ministers. Some are corrupt 
 In heart, unjust indeed ; a scandal to 
 The gospel ye pretend a reverence for. 
 You cannot be a parliament for those 
 
140 OLIVER CKOMAVELL, 
 
 Who honor God. You cannot make jnst laws 
 
 Who are yourselves unjust. Depart, I say, 
 
 And let us see no move of 3'^ou ; and so 
 
 Do one good deed before you die. Ay, go 
 
 Ye ; in the Lord's name, go ! [JTe seizes the mace.^ 
 
 What shall be done 
 With this vain bauble ? Take it off. [^Handing it to a 
 
 'musketeer.'] Now bring 
 Him down. \^Pointing to the speaker. Harrison ap- 
 proaches. 
 Speaker. Nought less than force can make me move. 
 H. Then I will lend a hand to serve your turn. 
 
 [ The Speaker descends and members begin to retire. 
 C. 'Tis 3'ou 5^ourselves who have constrained to this. 
 Mj^ soul has wrestled night and daj', as in 
 Gethsemane, to find escape. But God 
 Has grown so weary of 3'our ways, that this 
 Alone would serve His will ; and I submit. 
 Your insolencies to his Majesty 
 Could be no more endured ; so justice comes. 
 
 [To Sir H. Vane. 
 O thou, Sir Harry Vane ! Sir Harr^^ Vane ! 
 Thou hast belied thy possibilities, 
 And done thyself, thy country' and thy God, 
 Immeasurable wrong. Iladst thou not given 
 Thy mind a prey to casuistries, and let 
 Thy tongue perform the great old serpent's part. 
 Thou mightest have prevented this. One flash 
 Of lightning honesty from out the sky 
 Of an exalted soul, had shivered all 
 Their sophistries and cleared the atmosphere. 
 But thou hast been a recreant to th}' trust. 
 Go then, thou spendthrift of tin' morning hours, 
 And put life's afternoon to penitence. 
 Go all of you, and think upon your ways. 
 Reflect, that God gave once a golden bowl, 
 
OLIVER CUOMWKLL. 141 
 
 Brimmed with His foaming opportunities ; 
 
 But you have let it slip your grasp into 
 
 Tlio depths of the unfathomable years. 
 
 The Lord deliver me from Harry Vane ! 
 
 The Lord deliver me from all of you ! \^Ex€uiif. 
 
 Scene VL Chancery Court, Westminster Hall. 
 
 Judges, Lord Mayors and others. Cromwell, in a 
 black velvet suit, seated in the chair of state. 
 Commissioners approach, Lambert hear- 
 ing the civil sword. 
 
 Lambert. Your highness need not be reminded what 
 Distractions have beset this realm, like beasts 
 Of pre}', these manj'- years. Nor need I give 
 To these the judges, mayors and gentlemen, 
 Enumeration of your services. 
 In those we hear a loud demand for one 
 To liead the realm ; while these respond that you 
 Are tried and proven capable. Here then, 
 As mouthpiece for this triple commonwealth, 
 I do beseech yon, as myself her friend. 
 And you the doughtiest, ablest of her sons. 
 To give yourself unto the office of 
 Protector, and assume the duties that 
 Devolve therewith ; in doing which, you will 
 Complete the blessing of your services, 
 Which have enriched her when she else were poor. 
 In this I ask for her the favor, and 
 Of you the sacrifice, that is its price. 
 
 Crormoell. As in the sight of God, I do confess 
 Myself as having seen the drift of the 
 Events that culminate to-da}', and here : 
 As who did not whose eyes could look right on? 
 Not that I tried to form a channel for 
 Them ; but I found myself upon a stream. 
 
142 OMVKK CROMWKLIv. 
 
 Wliose current bore me in resistless arms, 
 
 As at the niaiMlate of Oimiipotence. 
 
 As God has seen my heart, lie knows that I 
 
 Have had no mind to tliis, exeept as I 
 
 Have yielded to His will, as plainly seen. 
 
 If erred I have, it was in striving to 
 
 Avoid the bourn to which His hand would lead. 
 
 It were superfluous to enumerate 
 
 The perfidies and despotisms of 
 
 The king, whose retributions ended his 
 
 Career, or to expatiate on the coui'se 
 
 Of dilatoriness, obtuse neglect 
 
 Of duty, and unseemly eagerness 
 
 To oligarchize, with a semblance of 
 
 Legality, of those the residue 
 
 Of what was once a parliament. 
 
 You saw in what predicament I found 
 
 The realm, and how I had to bring it thence. 
 
 When forced to take the helm of power, I called 
 
 Together such of godly sort as held 
 
 The best credentials for their wit, in hope 
 
 That they might overhaul the tackle of 
 
 The State, making her trim, and, through the chui'ch, 
 
 Give ballast in a better ministry. 
 
 These, taking soundings, came to shoals, in which 
 
 Were numberless imi)ediments, and such 
 
 Anfractuosities of stream as mocked 
 
 Their ingenuity. And now, in sheer 
 
 Despair, they turn, as to a pilot, thus 
 
 To me. I know not why, save that the Lord 
 
 Has heretofore vouchsafed to use me as 
 
 His INIoscs, to conduct His people through 
 
 AVar's wide red sea. In this their contidence. 
 
 And in His long-continued mercies, and, 
 
 Moreover, in the indications of 
 
 His will, I read my new commission, which 
 
OMVKR f-nOMWELL. 143 
 
 Enlart^es my respoiisihilitics ; 
 And this so much it makes my duties more 
 Tlian those that were too great for them. I will 
 Not say the office is superfluous ; for 
 We need a center of authority, 
 A rallying point of power, in whicli, as 'twere, 
 To individualize the prowess of 
 The realm ; a something that shall have the good 
 Of monarchy without the ill ; in which 
 Constabulary Duties shall not threat 
 The people with the gyves of tyranny. 
 This office, and these duties, you invite 
 Me to assume ; to which your will I give 
 My full consent. And may His hand, which in 
 The past has kept, now keep me faithful to 
 The higher trust. 
 Lamhert [Cromwell standing]. Your highness, having 
 learned 
 The form of government pi'ovided, and 
 Become familiar with the same, do now 
 Assent thereto in all and every of 
 Its articles, and swear, in presence of 
 Almighty God and these assembled, to 
 Observe, and keep, and execute the same, 
 So help you God V 
 
 a I do. 
 
 i. [luieelmffl. This sword I give 
 
 Your highness, as a symbol of the power 
 Invested .by the realm in you as its 
 Executive. The scabbard holds it, as 
 A sign of power in peace. It can be drawn. 
 This tells that .Justice must not fail to smite 
 When danger threats, or smite until it threats. 
 
 C I take it and return my own [liJxchaHging'], in 
 sign 
 That I shall rule l)y law and not by force. 
 
144 OLIVER CUOMWDLI.. 
 
 My own I give you sheatlied, iu token that 
 
 Its mission is fultillod. Tliere may it sloop ! 
 
 And now a word about tlie voyage on 
 
 The unknown soa wliose breakers fall upon 
 
 The beaches of eternity. With sky 
 
 Above and dim expanse before, I spread 
 
 My sails, with trust in Ilim who made both sky, 
 
 And sea, and all that is. In doing right — 
 
 As right I mean to do, and only right — 
 
 I shall not do as everj'^ man deems I'ight. 
 
 For as I trust the wisdom from above, 
 
 So I e.xpect it will not well agree 
 
 With that below. But as the captain heeds 
 
 His compass, not his passengers, so I 
 
 Shall heed the compass in my breast, whose pole 
 
 Is tlie Eternal Throne. For, verily, 
 
 The rocks that push their jagged shoulders from 
 
 The deep, need more than human vigilance 
 
 And wit to clear. I see the fragments of 
 
 Malignancy, in pirate factions, with 
 
 An eye from out their slielter, watching for 
 
 A chance to bear down, unawares, upon us. 
 
 I see the levelers, who would o'erwhelm 
 
 The social decencies of life, bring down 
 
 A waterspout of ruin on the state. 
 
 And wreck the church with idiot liberties. 
 
 I see the mental debauchees who prate 
 
 Of conscience when they mean the freedom of 
 
 The pit ; who fain would loose the helm, and have 
 
 None feel restraint, but drift unmoored. I see 
 
 The catharists ensurpliced in pretense, 
 
 Subverting order, bidding us renounce 
 
 The laws and let our sails, in savage winds, 
 
 Flap into tatters, hoping He whose voice 
 
 Once lullabied the sea will speak and save. 
 
 I see the Romau rats of Jesuitry* — 
 
(ii,ivi:u cROMWKix. 145 
 
 Insensible of anglit save hunger's pangs — 
 
 Witli teeth of craft, eating great holes iilto 
 
 The bottom of the ship. All these I see. 
 
 But who sliall pierce, with a prophetic eye, 
 
 The mist and spray of policies that hang 
 
 Between ourselves and other nations ; though 
 
 We hear the rotings of the surge ? Never 
 
 Before has people been in such a plight ; 
 
 And never ruler placed in such a strait. 
 
 But never was a struggle for so much. 
 
 And not before has nation done so much 
 
 To show the world the way to liberty. 
 
 Our courage, and withal the crown of our 
 
 Success, will speak in thunder in the ear 
 
 Of Tyranny, Beware ! while every age 
 
 Will be the stronger for our deeds ; and this 
 
 As they are done in the Almighty strength. 
 
 For this I pray. On this may all rely. [Mceunt. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 Scene I. A parlor of a palace. Isle of Jersey. 
 
 Hyde. There have been whispered divers pregnant 
 hints 
 Of means that circumstances justify, 
 By which your Majesty may be possessed 
 Of all your patrimony at a stroke. 
 
 Charles. Why hints, which are but wind, instead of 
 deeds? 
 
 // They may be shadows of approaching deeds. 
 Or the prophetic guaranty of deeds, 
 Or the green lobes of germinating deeds. 
 
 C Good luck assist their wits ! That brings to mind 
 The singing of a bird beside the door, 
 But yesterday. Its limpid note had such 
 
140 Ol.IVKK riJOMWKM.. 
 
 A gusli of s\vo(.'tiioss as tin." brooks in spring 
 llavo, when tliov babble by the peppermint. 
 I vow, it trickled through my very soul. 
 Suppose you, Hyde, insensate things possess 
 Symbolic qualities, which only need 
 Interpreting to lind their correlates 
 In other things? 
 
 // That were in consonance 
 
 With nature's unities. 
 
 C. Then why may not 
 
 Events concatenate, and that which is 
 Be a prophetic clew to what will be? 
 
 // I see no place for negative to that. 
 One human pair, and countless pairs result. 
 One sun, and days are but the opening of 
 His eyes. One rain, and every daisy laughs. 
 One bird-song, and a prince is glad. Could we 
 Rut hear the song, and know what ears would hear, 
 And have our lingers on the nerves behind 
 The ears, and know how many other hearts 
 Would catch the glad contagion of the first. 
 And others that of these, — a thrush's note 
 Might change the moods and motions of a realm 
 And shape its destiny, and, through it, change 
 The world. So latent possi))ilities 
 Are pent in everything, and but await 
 The fiat of a fitting circumstance 
 To bring them out. So are there elements 
 Of prophecy in everything. Had we 
 The alphabet we soo)\ might read the page. 
 
 C. That fancy flickered in my mind as light 
 That dances from a mirror on the wall. 
 Fancy, I said ; but that may not be all. 
 Our fancies often are the soul of facts. 
 That bird — who knows how much its note implied ? 
 Its song upon a rainy day — how apt 
 
(Jl.lVKi: CJtO.MW KLL. 147 
 
 As a precursor of tlie liopo 3'ou give ! 
 
 Besides, my right j);iliii itelicd persistently 
 
 An hour ago ; a sign tliat I shall get 
 
 A something that will please. Thus prophecy 
 
 On prophecy, in enigmatic form, 
 
 Precedes the bruiting of your tidings. JJut 
 
 The means. I wish you had not said. By means 
 
 That circumstances justify ; as though 
 
 'J'he circumstances would not justify 
 
 Whatever means it pleases me to use. 
 
 Shall Heaven's anointed son of saintly sire 
 
 Sit on tile loathsome dunghill of his wrongs, 
 
 And haggle with philosophers about 
 
 The righteousness of means to gain his rights? 
 
 II. The means are lightning yet imprisoned in 
 The clouds. I cannot tell you, save that they 
 Will strike your greatest foe. 
 
 C The gods pour down 
 
 A honeydew of luck on that ! 
 
 // The means are such 
 
 That Cromwell's person would not miss their aim. 
 
 C. Heaven grant the lightning may descend and burn 
 The bloodstain from his guilty hand. 
 If life should pay for life, then let him pay ; 
 And cursed be Pity if she shed a tear ! 
 
 //. Here Policy to Circumspection holds 
 Her ear attent. 
 
 (J. What, grandam Policy 
 
 XTjjJift her birch to tame a king, and he. 
 In Circumspection's fool's-cap, take a stool ? 
 Politic as to means of thwarting wrong. 
 Ami circumspect in giving regicides 
 Their dues? Does Hyde, <jf all I trust, say that? 
 Justice, sir, is true policy ; and were 
 My liands V)ut circumspectly round their necks, 
 My wish would be for fifty more to squeeze. 
 
148 OLIVEK CROMWELL. 
 
 A martyred father's blood is crying from 
 
 The ground ; and Heaven refuse to shrive me if 
 
 My ear grows deaf. 
 
 H. Your Majesty has missed 
 
 The bull's-eye of my thought. We have to fence 
 With circumstances ; hence must guard as well 
 As thrust. All feel a slirinkage at the heart 
 At thought of taking off a wearer of 
 God's image, though defaced. Hence were it well 
 To keep your hand unstained. 
 
 C God's image ! Say 
 
 Beelzebub's. 
 
 H. I say not, Spare the deed 
 
 On one Avhose soul is black with guiltier deed, 
 But spare yourself. 
 
 C. Myself indeed ! A fig 
 
 For shivering qualms and womanish conceits, 
 Wlien Retribution stands beside the grave 
 Of martyred Innocence and calls for blood ! 
 That is no time for Conscience to be pert. 
 Beshrew me, Hyde ! could we but vivisect 
 The soul, we might discover that this thing 
 We call a conscience oft is cowardice. 
 Our very nature is a h^-pocrite. 
 We have an ague of the heart and call 
 It conscience, to conceal timidity. 
 Now if, by sparing of myself, you mean 
 The putting of m}- heart in swaddling-clothes, 
 I tell you in the bravest English, I 
 Prefer to be a man. I shall not quail 
 For all the gliosts that ever flitted through 
 Tlie chambers of the night. 
 
 H. Prudence has heart. 
 
 And courage is not blind. Bethink, and ask 
 Yourself, Should Europe know that England's king 
 Had turned avenger in the dark — though just 
 
OLIVER CROMWELL. 149 
 
 The deed as plunge of Lucifer from heaven — 
 What fumigation could deodorize 
 Your royal robes of the assassin's taint ? 
 Were Cromwell in your hands, you would not fill 
 Jack's place and ply the axe. 
 
 C. The dark ! I am 
 
 Already in the dark. What is behind 
 Tile ichereas of this long preamble ? 
 
 // This : 
 
 A plan has found inception in the heart 
 Of loyalty, to give the lofty lord 
 A lasting quietus, 
 
 C. Amen ! And may 
 
 The Devil take his soul, lest he should mar 
 My sainted father's peace. 
 
 H. In such a way 
 
 That, while you figurehead it with your name, 
 You may remain in ignorance of the 
 Minutiae of the plan, and so, in truth, 
 Be able to conceal yourself within 
 The shadow of your ignorance. 
 
 C. Proceed. 
 
 There is a smack of something there. 
 
 II. Suppose 
 
 Experts in wit and skill should be assured 
 A given sum, with which to serve your cause, 
 And he who serves you best receive, besides, 
 Emoluments for life. 
 
 C. And that he should, 
 
 Without a grudge or stint. 
 
 H. No service could 
 
 Be greater than to clear a passage to 
 Tlie throne. 
 
 C. In that were everything. 
 
 H. You need 
 
 Not know the how of it or father what 
 
150 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 Is done. 
 
 C. A glass of wine. Claret, to clear 
 
 My wits. \^Scrvedhij page?^ I like the tliouglit. Yes, by 
 
 the meek 
 And martyred innocence of him whose name 
 I bear, I like the thought. It takes the cork 
 From out ray heart and makes me spaikle as 
 The wine. You would provide a paradise 
 Of ignorance, to save my innocence, 
 Or furnish fig-leaves in extremity. 
 A loyal thought ! AVell, blab what may be blabbed. 
 
 H. You let m}' head and hand be prox}' for 
 Your own, in making out a document 
 As hinted at ; whose contents will be yours 
 No more than Adam's ejiitaph. 
 C. And in 
 
 The document let hints be broad enough 
 To bid defiance to the rest of speech 
 To overlap. 
 
 H. They shall be understood. 
 
 The object gained, you may, as honestly 
 As iiniocence at prayers, keep open face, 
 Rebutting all the censures of the world, 
 By disavowal of the document. 
 
 C. The Devil will be counterwitted there. 
 Yet why should any censure, disai)j)rove, 
 Demur? Bring all the world to Jersey isle, 
 To du|)licate my lot — it would revise 
 Its sentiments. But what it is it is. 
 
 II. Only my loyalty, and zeal to serve 
 Your Majesty, could make me so far strain 
 My scruples. But the circumstances give 
 Their sanction to imordinary means. 
 
 C. There now ! No need to be so smock-faced, Hyde. 
 This hide-and-seek witli Conscience is a game 
 For children, women and the dying, in 
 
OI,IVKIl CnOMWKLI,. 151 
 
 Progressive mode — good, better, best. So Hyde 
 
 Would liido and lot liis Conscience seek. Who would 
 
 Be bad when goodness is so clieap ? All well ! 
 
 A little Conscience, now and then, will ki-ep 
 
 Our souls in trim for whatsoe'er may haj) — 
 
 That is, a reasonable Conscience ; but 
 
 If Conscience plays the prude, outstare her with 
 
 An eagle eye, and go as Duty bids. 
 
 That is philosophy ; and good enough 
 
 To 1)6 a parson's text. What need we more ? 
 
 We have the sanctions of a righteous cause, 
 
 With every motive in a priestly frock. 
 
 But have you inklings who has loyalty. 
 
 And wit, and nerve, to serve this turn ? 
 
 // I have 
 
 Been urged by divers men of consequence 
 To set your Majesty on this, assured 
 That they would find the fitting instruments, 
 
 C Why, said you not that you had only hints? 
 
 JL I said that I had hints, which word is true. 
 In having more, my word is more than true. 
 But true it is I have not all tlie truth. 
 Tile how and what of means is not disclosed. 
 But waits your royal word. 
 
 C. Then use mj'- name 
 
 As best may serve its owner's purposes. 
 I will not curse the horse that takes me home. 
 
 \^Exeunt. 
 
 Scene II, A dimly lighted room in London. 
 
 Fox. See that the guard is at his post ; for not 
 A keyhole must be left un watched, lest some 
 Obtrusive ear frustrate our ])]ans, 
 
 Gerard [nprninf/ the door andlookinf]\. All right. 
 
 1\ Wai-y to jdan and bold to execute. 
 
1j-J t»i.i\ i:i; I i;h.m\vi:i.i.. 
 
 That motto fjnavantoos success. E'en now 
 
 Events are briohtening, as the realm awakes 
 
 To loyalty, ami all converge in rays 
 
 or promise on our sacred sovereign's crown. 
 
 While we unite the enemy divides ; 
 
 AVIiich fact is double pledge of good, Tiie mad 
 
 Fanatics have the army in ferment ; 
 
 While iiarliament provoki-s their testy ire, 
 
 liy dawdling indolence ; in w liich it proves 
 
 How much these kingdoms need a lawful head. 
 
 Alured in the dumps, with others of 
 
 His kind, and Overton concocting means 
 
 Of playing second Oliver, Mill draw 
 
 Attention from ourselves ; while, nmlerground, 
 
 We charge the mine whose one explosion will 
 
 Exalt the traitors to the clouds [Lou(//tter]. Meanwhile, 
 
 The parliament and he we think of most. 
 
 Are dancing different jigs. 
 
 G. The devil keep 
 
 Them dancing while we work. 
 
 If<-ns/>air. Ludlow is said 
 
 To champ his bit. 
 
 /T They are in soniersanlt. 
 
 The head and feet reversed, and all rolled up 
 In indistinguishable jumbledness ; 
 AVhich is a thing of course. IIow can a watch 
 Keep time with mainspring gone ? 
 
 }'oicti/. Ludlow at outs 
 
 Will give to Rupert open door to get 
 The L'ish armed. 
 
 J\ Rupert to Rupert's work, 
 
 And we to ours. 
 
 yi And yet we scan the sky 
 
 Ei^e leaving home without umbrella. 
 
 K ^ We 
 
 May look on these propitious auguries 
 
OI.IVKIl (ItOMWIOI.L. }r)'.i 
 
 Willi c^I.'ulsniiK^ cyos. Mnl not, our oyoH, our hands 
 
 Arc ill (K'inaml. Tlio arch nsiirpcr sits 
 
 And Nucks tlic Hweets of hin .security. 
 
 liut our anointed sovereign suflFors in 
 
 The asl;v.s of his woo ; while wo. arc; wliccls, 
 
 Whose turning on tiie axle of tlie times 
 
 i\[iist bear things on, or, by our tardiness, 
 
 Give Treason breathing time. Then turn wo to 
 
 Our hearts, and let us ask them whetlicr they 
 
 Are ready for the loyalcist of deeds ; 
 
 And as they arc, so let us do. 
 
 G. Why sIkuiM 
 
 Our arm lack U^igth to reach the tlirono and rid 
 Us of our incubus ? 
 
 J^. Mravo ! Gristle 
 
 And soul are at the bacik of that. The heart 
 Of (icranl fiiiils iiis tongue, wilhout a touch 
 Of hat to (.'owardice. Th(! man was in 
 Tiie heart ; but now, th(! heart is in the man. 
 
 V. Our breath is but a zephyr till we act, 
 Laden with drowsy perfumes of desire. 
 Action will be a gusty force, which beats 
 The ])ald scal|) of the mountain till it moans. 
 Hope in our heart, our help is in our hand ; 
 Hope to inspire to deeds, the deeds to save. 
 There is our glittering cynosure. Yet cast 
 We not ourselves on war's contingencies, 
 To reel in bloody havoc at the best. 
 We must be economical of blood. 
 And carry certainty in ones linn hand ; 
 Which is the wiser, braver policy. 
 Wiser, since done as well, and cheaper done ; 
 Braver, since; little; dares and docs so nnicli. 
 
 yinrli. I challenge bravery that would take a life 
 By theft, and honor done the king by a 
 Dark-corner deed. The king is owner of 
 
Icil Ol.IVKU I KOMWKl.l.. 
 
 Tiio tlirono, whoso allocated bonotits 
 
 Are ours. Thon lot our courage boldly wrench 
 
 Those kingdoms from his grasp who holds them in 
 
 Unrigliteousnoss. 'Phere is a kingliness 
 
 Ix'coining kings, which gives its tiavor to 
 
 Their deeds ; a dignity that raises them 
 
 To stateliness above the petty ways 
 
 Of common men : an attribute that we 
 
 Must honor by our deeds. 
 
 G. lie servos his king 
 
 TIjo best whose deeds accomplish most. 
 
 F. His deeds 
 Do most Avho saves the lionor of the king ; 
 
 For, void of that, how paltry is a throne ! 
 
 A monarch's honor is his diadem. 
 
 His throne and honor make him all a king. 
 
 G. Remember Naseby, and beware lest we 
 Should leave him neither honor nor a tlirone. 
 Treason that has an army at its back. 
 
 Can more than match our unarmed loyalty. 
 
 11. AVe see no serpent in the ri>yal arms, 
 But rampant Lion-and-tlie-unicorn. 
 Cannot we fit our foi'ces for a lea}> ? 
 
 F. Force has been wasted till we need to spare. 
 The time has come for individual deeds. 
 Gerard and Vowell are the sttitT that dares ; 
 ^Vnd daring is the measure of a soul. 
 There is a grandeur in its deeds which gives 
 A kinghood second only to the king's. 
 And now the tonic of the times must make 
 Us liungry for distinction, [vl )iohe outside the door.'\ 
 
 What is that ? 
 Sh — list! \^The door o/hns.] Why, IVillingsley ! you 
 
 gave one's hair 
 A quickening at the roots. 
 
 JJil/in(/slei/. I had so good 
 
OLIVER CKOMWKLL. IJ 
 
 A bruit I had scant patience witli tlic guard. 
 
 F. Wliicli proves tliat lie was not in duty scant. 
 li. Tidings, like liquor, when a man is full. 
 
 Derange his thinking gear. 
 
 G. And good thou say'st? 
 li. The best of many a day — enough to make 
 
 Despair look up and laugh. 
 
 G. God speed thy tongue, 
 
 And blessings on thy soul ! 
 
 B. 'Twas smuggled o'er 
 
 The sea. I read the paper for myself — 
 A noble document ! proceeding from 
 The king. 
 
 v. Then royal. 
 
 H. Royal as the king, 
 
 Being the reflex of his royal mind. 
 
 G. Out with it, man ! 
 
 B. His Majesty has sent 
 
 A proclamation, big with promises 
 To those his loyal subjects who shall give 
 Ilim one triumpliant deed of service. 
 
 G. One ! 
 
 My arm is ready for a score, if such 
 He needs. But the particulars. 
 
 B. Tie rails 
 
 On Cromwell as a base mechanic knave ; 
 A traitor villain from the gutter spewed 
 And spilled upon the throne : and that he is. 
 lie piously beseeches us to rid 
 The earth of this unchristian rogue, and do 
 Ourselves and him a wortliy turn ; for which 
 He promises to who will poison, stab. 
 Shoot, or otherwise destroy the traitor, 
 Knit^hthood and five hundred pounds a year ; ay. 
 Employment, loo, so \u\\<j[^ as he siiall live. 
 
 V. A kingly offer for a knightly deed. 
 
156 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 F. Beyond a peradventure know you this ? 
 B. The hmguage was too kingly in the pomp 
 
 And stateliness of its array for less 
 Than king. 
 
 G. Assuredly. Ilis Majesty 
 Has shewn a Christian patience to endure 
 So long the insolence of this low dog, 
 
 Who makes the throne a kennel. But at last 
 His justice lifts its glittering axe. In this 
 We see the sterner aspect of the king's 
 Divinity. Xow for responding to 
 His righteous will, with plan well aimed and sure 
 To reach its mark. 
 
 V. His ^lajesty divines 
 
 The secrets of the hour, with prescience born 
 Of royalty, and sees in this the time 
 To strike the shackles from the land. We then, 
 As loyal subjects, must respond. 
 
 B. And then 
 
 The guerdon M'hen the work is done ! 
 
 Finch. As bids 
 
 The king 'tis ours to do, e'en though it M'ere 
 To tread the tempest-shredded waves. He has 
 His reasons that we know not of, which, did 
 We kjiow, would, doubtless, thrill our hearts as when 
 A clarion splits the morning air. 
 
 H. ^ There is 
 
 A smack of bravery in his words, which come 
 From him as cloudy messengers, and tell 
 Of arming thunderbolts behind. I ween 
 The French and Irish are in loash, ready 
 To cast and bring the quarry from the height 
 Of its security. For, Cromwell gone, 
 The governmental bastardy will end, 
 When these have stooped. 
 
 F. We are agreed ; 
 
OLIVEi: CEOMWELL. 157 
 
 And so we have a pledge of luck. Who will 
 Be father of apian to serve the king? 
 
 G. Recall we that the kingdoms are at stake ; 
 A stake for which we all .shall risk our all. 
 Our all — our names, our fortunes and our lives, 
 And smut the dearest that we leave behind. 
 In such a game it will not do to drowse. 
 Our hearts must have a stout heroic beat ; 
 Our thews be stiff as iron under strain ; 
 Our minds be clear as sunshine after shower ; 
 Our purpose changeless as the mind of God. 
 Fail we in one of tiiese, we fail in all ; 
 And that would be old England's day of doom. 
 Roused by such thoughts, let none of us dare drowse. 
 Then what do we devise ? But first, what force 
 Have we that may be trusted as ourselves ? 
 I give my word for twenty-five, who will 
 Not turn their backs when danger threats. 
 
 F. They need 
 To know the knack how not to use their tongues. 
 And when, and where, and how to shew their face. 
 
 G. They may be trusted as the fingers on 
 My hands. 
 
 II. Add five as trusty as the best. 
 
 V. My men are in myself, who will not fail. 
 
 G. Thirty. A decent force for decent deeds. 
 
 V. Decent enough to warrant something bold, 
 By which the traitor may be taken by 
 ►Surprise ; for he would fear a rabbit's bite 
 Ere boldness on our part, who seem so tame. 
 Heaven knows we have been tame enough. But tush ! 
 Why cry o'er last year's toothache when the king 
 Invites us to a feast? 
 
 F. A plan. We want 
 
 A loyal plan to serve a royal cause. 
 
 V. Your nose, I see, is keen upon the scent. 
 
1">S Ol.lVKU CUOMWKl.l.. 
 
 y. Ay, l-'ox my iiamo, tho fox is in tny nose. 
 And now, so noav the poultry -yard, wo nood 
 To bo awako. A plan. Propound a plan. 
 Who will bo Fortuno's valot for tho nonoo ? 
 
 K I have it to an aoo. i^n Saturdays 
 My Lord Protector rides to Hampton Court, 
 Giviiiii' an opportunity thati which 
 The mills of Fortune could not bettor make. 
 
 J'IhcA. a very godsend of a thought. 
 
 Hi 'Twill give 
 
 A smack of daring to tho deed to do 
 It in the open eye of day ; aiul that 
 Is what we need to Siive the honor of 
 The king. 
 
 (». 1 care not e'en the twirling of 
 
 A straw about the means so we but gain 
 The end : for any stick were clean enough 
 To crack the skull of this malfeasant knave. 
 Or poison good enough that would but eat 
 The core and essence of his life. Hut hero 
 We have a cue to that which cannot fail. 
 Our project has two aspects. How shall wo 
 Employ our force ? How f rust nit o his ? 
 
 Hiu'/t. We mighty 
 
 To-morrow, meet him midway in the road. 
 And part to let him pass, then close and make 
 Ass;mlt, shooting the dog to death. That done, 
 (.hitspccd the news to Lotulon and proclaim 
 The king. 
 
 £. With one to aid. 1 will secure 
 
 Tho hoi-ses of his troopers as they gnue 
 At Islington, and battle all attempts 
 At h:\sty movldling witli our plans. 
 
 //. There are 
 
 The soldiers at tho n\ows, who must be seized, 
 Unarmed, and made secure. 
 
OI.IV'K.U «:it()M\VliIJ,. 151) 
 
 "F. I will aRHrst 
 
 In making all secure. 
 
 V. I cannot hIiooI,, 
 
 Hence cannot make assault. Hut liillingslcy 
 Shall liav(! my hand ; the work my head ; the king 
 My heart. I s(M! hi^li promises in our plan, 
 In which our personal diverHities 
 But help to unify, according to 
 The analogu(!.s in natuni's alelu^my. 
 Monotony in hue, tone, form, offends 
 The sense. Contrasts beget comparisons 
 And give the mind a healthy exercise. 
 II(!nce beauty has vari(;ty and gives 
 Exhilaration to the soul ; and this 
 Variety is basic unity. 
 
 F. That smells of desks and musty books. But deeds 
 We need, not desks ; and blows, not books. 
 
 V. True words 
 
 Arc heralds of true deeds. 
 
 F. The hour asks words 
 
 With ring of steel and fire of flint, and deeds 
 Whose motions have the lightning's wing and are 
 As daring as the pirate itifidels 
 Of Barbary. These we can give who have 
 So good a cause. But pardon me the haste 
 Of an impetuous tongue. I know your heart 
 Is loyal as the Union Jack. 
 
 V. Ay, that 
 
 It is. 
 
 O. Now for the kingdoms for the king. 
 And honor for ourselves till time shall end. 
 'l\)-morrow meet we, in the slaty dawn, 
 I fere to cement the parts of this our plan. 
 That all may hold. 
 
 F. M<?anwhile, go home and sleep 
 
 As honest men. My services will be 
 
160 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 As great as any one of you will want ; 
 
 Yea, such the king himself would ask no more. 
 
 [^Exeioit. 
 
 Scene III. Night in the High Sheriff's office. 
 
 High Sheriff. [ Writing\ Gei-ard, Vowell, Henshaw, 
 Finch, and — 
 
 Fox. The rest 
 
 Not worth the ink that would inscribe their names. 
 
 H. S. These four are extra hot for this ? 
 
 F. Hot as 
 
 The nether pit ; but two supply the fire. 
 Gerard and Vowell keep the others hot ; 
 And, having now a new incentive to 
 The work, they are aflame. 
 
 ff. S. ' Ah, ha ! What now ? 
 
 F. The callow king is offering knighthood, and 
 Five hundred pounds a year, to whosoe'er 
 Will take by steel, or lead, or potion given 
 In subtlety, the Lortl Protector's life. 
 
 JI. S. Knighthood indeed ! The darkest night 
 They ever saw, and Jack's hood o'er their skull, 
 With all the pounds of earth they need to keep 
 Their dust. Thou know'st this for a verit}' ? 
 
 JF] It came to us as tidings but to-night. 
 One Billingsley, a butcher, who is fag 
 For them, had read the document an hour 
 Before and packed the summary in 
 His pate. 
 
 JT. S. A miracle in duplicate. 
 The demons that were in the king flee at 
 The Lord Protector's name and enter swine : 
 To find as deep a sea as those of yore. 
 There is a diabolic something in 
 The name of Charles. Belike, it is a word 
 That witches use to give a potence to 
 
01,1 vi:u rnoMWELL. 161 
 
 Their cabala ; and as an angle-worm, 
 
 Cut through, makes two of one, so, when we kill 
 
 A Charles, \vc make anotlier demon })y 
 
 The trick. 
 
 F. From Gerard's privacy I filched 
 
 A precious sicret, which was too esteemed 
 To flaunt before them all ; and though 'tis big 
 For one's belief to clasp, we may believe. 
 Rupert and envoy Baas are hand-and-glove 
 In this conspiracy. 
 
 // S. What, Baas ! And is 
 
 The king of France a cut-throat with the rest? 
 3[ethinks all kings are made of cursed stuff. 
 What proof hast thou of this? 
 
 P. Gerard has proof ; 
 
 But it is kept, like sweetheart's hair, beside 
 His heart. 
 
 II. S. We must have Gerard and his proof. 
 But tell the scope of their designs ; as well 
 The plans and moans. 
 
 F. The scope includes the Lord 
 
 Protector's death and proclamation of 
 Young Charles ; the plan, to meet his lordship on 
 His usual ride, to-morrow morn ; the moans, 
 With thiity troopois, and themselves, to do 
 The deed, then hie to London and proclaim 
 Tiie king — the soldiers at the mews to be 
 Secured, and every gap be stopped through which 
 Might come mishap. 
 
 // 8. That spurs the ribs of our 
 
 Dispatch. To-night must give them warrant of 
 A holiday at common cost. Then shall 
 We hear how chuffiy they will prate, when Death 
 Is thrumming hell-notes on their nerves, and see 
 How deftly they can carve out destinies 
 For royal vagabonds. Ere crows the cock 
 
1G2 OLIVKR OnOMWKl.L. 
 
 At broach of day no law of Clan ^MacdufT, 
 
 Or other hiw to give their tether length, 
 
 Will lend a farthing's value to their lives. 
 
 But what is now the hour ? [Looking at his watch.] 
 
 Near twelve o'clock ; 
 The hour for ghosts and rogues to disappear. 
 Seek thou thy bed ; and when the game is bagged 
 Prepare thyself to keep them company. 
 
 7*7 When must I make confession of my part ? 
 
 IT. S. Before the judges. Be thou sure to wear 
 A visage well veneered with penitence, 
 That men may deem it solid to the heart ; 
 And humor so thy voice that it shall have 
 A whipped-dog whine of serabled hurabledness. 
 So shall Suspicion staiid with bandaged ej'es, 
 And thou wilt cheaply gain the guerdon of 
 Our great good will, and be as happy as 
 A man whose mother-in-law speaks well of him. 
 Of Billingsley and others thou canst give 
 Account another time. The leaders first, 
 In whom we get the priming ere the gun 
 Is hred. But time goes on, and we must go. [JSxewit. 
 
 Scene IV. Cromwell and the High Sheriff in a private 
 room at Whitehall. 
 
 Cromwell. Have j'ou this tumor ready for the lance ? 
 
 Iliyh Sheriff. All the ringleaders are in custody, 
 With evidence in hand that Justice deems 
 Full twice enough to take their heads. The rest 
 Are almost in our grasp. 
 
 C. Go on, and let 
 
 Them learu how far our hand can reach, until 
 The last one feels the gripe of vigilance — 
 Ay, to tlie lowest riff-raff of them all. 
 
 H. S. The hiirhest riff-raff iiives the hardest task. 
 
OLIVEK CUOMWKLL. lUJ 
 
 C. The greater pains to catch tlic jj^rcatcr gain 
 Wiicn caught. But nought must battle you. No lord, 
 Encastled in the liighest place, is high 
 Enough to mock tlie ladders of tlie law. 
 
 II. *S'. Suppose him nose-length off, but shielded by 
 A foreign arm. 
 
 C. There is no place for such 
 
 A supposition, since no foreign arm 
 Can shield a traitor here. Then nape the thought 
 And kick it from your mind into the street. 
 
 // S. But what if we arouse the ire of France ? 
 
 (7. Tlie ire of France ! What ire has France to rouse ? 
 She has no gag on me, no lien upon 
 The realm ; nor can she claim a pennyworth 
 Of right this side her coast. Belike, some rogue 
 Has put his finger into our affairs ; 
 Which insolent temerity shall not 
 Go unrebuked, though he be big enough 
 To personate all France, with half to spare. 
 
 H. S. Suppose we had indubitable proof 
 To implicate an envoy of the French 
 As in the league with Rupert, Gerard and 
 The rest ? 
 
 C. Be Baas a miscreant such, he soon 
 
 Shall breathe his native air. 
 
 II. S. No less he is. 
 
 C. Then call him base who dare engage in aught 
 So base. An envoy fidl of envy at 
 Our peace ; an envoy extraordinary ; 
 An envoy come to play conspirator ; 
 A serpent who would curse this Eden-isle ! 
 The knave would pawn the honor of his king 
 To boot, and batten on his country's blood. 
 Knave ? Search the Stygian depths of speech, no word 
 Is black enough to give the wretch a name. 
 Bring him upon the ready foot of haste, 
 
104 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 To try our scalpel on his impudence. 
 But first your proof. 
 
 H. S. There is sufficient there. 
 
 [^Handhuj a letter. 
 
 C. [^Reading']. "Where got you this ? 
 
 H. S. In Sir John Gerar*rs pocket. 
 
 C\ A pockey pocket — like to give them all 
 The pocks they want. What other proofs have you? 
 
 II. IS. That letter quickened assiduity 
 And set us on the path between the two. 
 Fox was despatched, beneath the night's disguise, 
 To try his craft ere yet the envoy knew 
 Of what had happed. He met De Baas alone ; 
 Spoke of the letter, which was owned ; and, though 
 The Frenchman calked his speech with caution, he, 
 B}^ subtlety, compelled a leak, and found 
 Ilim cognizant that they designed you ill. 
 At Rupert's name his taciturnity 
 Forgot itself, betraying knowledge of 
 A plan that ramifies the continent, 
 In unofficial guise, at which the kings 
 Are pleased to wink, while wishing at God-speed. 
 That plan includes j'our death, a vacant throne, 
 And Charles, the royal vagabond, restored. 
 
 C A fellow-feeling for a fellow-king 
 Breeds coward wishes for a coward work ; 
 For none of them, nor all, dare shew the hand. 
 What kingliness, that their puissances 
 Are clinging to Assassination's arm ! 
 What phantom majest}^ that vanishes 
 AVhen honor calls for common manliness ! 
 What idols these for nations to adore ! 
 What incarnations of divinity — 
 To sprawl in hell-slime foul as this ! See that 
 You trace this plot, as from a river's mouth ; 
 Yea, up its tributaries, even should 
 
OLIVKU CUOMWELL. 166 
 
 It take you up to mountain sources and 
 'I'lie highest springs. I want jMalignancy 
 To see our vigilance and feel our power. 
 
 H. S. Scant gleaning waits, I ween ; hut I will glean. 
 [£xit II. a. Cromwell goes to the council cluunber. 
 
 Lord Chief Justice. What is the pleasure of your high- 
 ness in 
 The case of Gerard, Vowell, Fox, et al. ? 
 
 C. Let justice make the leaders feel our hand ; 
 While mercy does a justice to our heart, 
 By shaking but a warning at the rest, 
 To make them shake. Then send them forth ; and as 
 They find the law's black ear-mark on their names, 
 So will their mordant memory fix it in 
 Their fears. Our strength advertised thus, will hint 
 To Treason not to leave his lurking-place. 
 Gerard and Vowell, then, must get their dues. 
 To shew that mercy can discriminate ; 
 While Fox, who does full credit to his name. 
 May have a hole provided for escape. 
 
 L. C. J. Your mercy leaves but little to the law. 
 Justice was never cheated so before. 
 
 C. I would not be as that poor I'elic of 
 A king who backs these villains, having too 
 Great poverty of soul for one good deed. 
 I would not have his cowardice, to strike 
 From 'twixt the bars of my security. 
 I would not hurt a brute save to escape 
 Its hurt. Far liefer would I mercy got 
 The better of the law than law of mercy, 
 Which oft is stronger, better than the law. 
 'Tis wife to justice, having woman's heart. 
 Tempering the rigor of her lord's decrees. 
 'Tis hers to yield obedience, his to love. 
 Yet she in serving more than half controls. 
 
 L. C. J. You treat your foes less ill than Charles hia 
 friends. 
 
166 OLIVER CROMWELL. 
 
 C. Hence foes become my friends, and friends his 
 foes. \Exit L. C. J. 
 
 Usher. The envoy of the French is here. 
 
 C. Admit. 
 
 Enter De Baas. 
 
 Baas. Your honored servant hasted at the word 
 To learn your highness' will, in hope to find 
 Assured continued amity between 
 This realm and that I humbl}' represent. 
 
 C. Is treason like to give us amity ? 
 
 S. There is no treason in ray master's heart. 
 
 C. Thy treason were enough for fifty hearts. 
 
 £. Your highness shocks me with unusual speech. 
 
 C. And thou hast shocked us with unusual deeds. 
 
 B. Pardon, your highness. I am from a court 
 Whose king has reverence for your worthy parts. 
 I saw him stand before your portrait, as 
 Before the grandeur of a mountain, lost 
 
 In thought. 
 
 C. As thou art lost in honesty, 
 Which is as far from thee as thou art short 
 
 Of heaven. But tut, thou milk-and-honey tongue ! 
 Not of thy master but of thee I spoke. 
 
 B. A most unworthy servant, I admit ; 
 And yet a servant who would serve him well. 
 Nor in my serving do your highness ill. 
 
 C. 'Twere well thy heart were truthful as thy lip. 
 
 B. My heai't is in my royal master's work. 
 
 C. What is it then that meddles so with mine ? 
 B. The duties of ray office claim of me 
 
 Some knowledge of the court with which it is 
 My mission to — 
 
 (7. Thy mission ! Prythee, is 
 
 Thy mission to collude with traitors ? to 
 Abet the bloody cowardice of the 
 Assassin ? to attempt to overthrow 
 
OLIVER CROMAVEIX. 167 
 
 The government to which thy mission is? 
 Is that thj^ mission for thy master here ? 
 
 B. Nay, pardon me, your worthy highness, if, 
 Tlu-ough an unwortliy word or doubtful deed, 
 Occasion gives excuse for what j-ou say ; 
 But never have I tliought to do you wrono-. 
 
 G. Then Satan must have formed thy thoughts of 
 right. 
 Look thou at that [Handing the letter], and thou wilt 
 
 hear thj'self 
 Called liar by thyself, 
 
 -5. Mary Mother ! 
 
 Oh, what a plot is this ! 
 
 ^- Ay, plot indeed ! 
 
 And thou neck deep in it. Yet hast thou had 
 No thought of wrong ! 
 
 ^' A plot, I mean, to do 
 
 Me fatal wrong. 
 
 ^- 1'liee wrong ! Heaven could not do 
 
 The wrong by barring every gate against 
 Thy entrance ; neither hell, though it should plunge 
 Thee head first in its liquid flames. Then how 
 Shall earth ? 
 
 ^' This letter is not mine. 
 
 ^- In that 
 
 Thou sayest what is true, yet liest with 
 The truth ; for now it is not thine, though thine 
 It was before it left thy hand. 
 
 -^- Mother 
 
 Of God ! but I am innocent. 
 
 <^- The God 
 
 Who was before the mother was will call 
 Thee to account for this. Pray what is guilt 
 If thou be innocent ? Why, hell itself would bite 
 The lip ere vouching for thy innocence. 
 If thou be innocent, we need not rail 
 
1G8 OLIVER CROMWELL, 
 
 At sin. If thou be innocent, Satan 
 Must be a saint. If thou be innocent, 
 There is no use for hell. 
 
 JB. You have a knave's 
 
 Device against my word, and trust the knave 
 Instead of nie, who am the servant of 
 An august king. 
 
 C Ay, knave indeed — thyself 
 
 The knave ; and now a double knave. It is 
 That knave I trust against this knave. Prank not 
 Thyself upon our lack of proof, to back 
 The black-and-white that stares thee in the face. 
 We have such telltales that, if summoned as 
 The ghosts of sin which haunt men's consciences, 
 Their burning hands would slap thee on the mouth 
 And blister thee. 
 
 B. In rating me it is 
 Not me your highness rates, but France. 
 
 C. What ! would 'st 
 Thou add a coward to a knave, and smutch 
 
 Thy country's name to save thj^self ? Go, wretch. 
 And face the country' thou would'st thus defame ! 
 Go, tell thy master of thy faithlessuess. 
 And thank him that his friendship saves thy head. 
 For hadst tliou got th}' dues, the laws, by this, 
 Had laid thy \j'\y\g tongue at lasting rest, 
 And rid the land of one who proves its bane. 
 Go, then, nor leave thy footprints on the shore ; 
 And tell tliat Cromwell lives in spite of thee — 
 In spite of all the spawn that hell can spare — 
 While England flourishes as ne'er before. 
 
 THE END.