_Rudyard and others._ Forgive him! He would join us, now he finds What the King counts reward! The pardon, too, Should be your own. Yourself should bear to Strafford The pardon of the Commons.

_Pym._ Meet him? Strafford?

Have we to meet once more, then? Be it so!

And yet--the prophecy seemed half fulfilled When, at the Trial, as he gazed, my youth, Our friendship, divers thoughts came back at once And left me, for a time.... 'Tis very sad!

To-morrow we discuss the points of law With Lane--to-morrow?

_Vane._ Not before to-morrow-- So, time enough! I knew you would relent!

_Pym._ The next day, Haselrig, you introduce The Bill of his Attainder. Pray for me!

SCENE III.--_Whitehall._

_The KING._

_Charles._ My loyal servant! To defend himself Thus irresistibly,--withholding aught That seemed to implicate us!

We have done Less gallantly by Strafford. Well, the future Must recompense the past.

She tarries long.

I understand you, Strafford, now!

The scheme-- Carlisle's mad scheme--he'll sanction it, I fear, For love of me. 'Twas too precipitate: Before the army's fairly on its march, He'll be at large: no matter.

Well, Carlisle?

_Enter PYM._

_Pym._ Fear me not, sir:--my mission is to save, This time.

_Charles._ To break thus on me! Unannounced!

_Pym._ It is of Strafford I would speak.

_Charles._ No more Of Strafford! I have heard too much from you.

_Pym._ I spoke, sir, for the People; will you hear A word upon my own account?

_Charles._ Of Strafford?

(So turns the tide already? Have we tamed The insolent brawler?--Strafford's eloquence Is swift in its effect.) Lord Strafford, sir, Has spoken for himself.

_Pym._ Sufficiently.

I would apprise you of the novel course The People take: the Trial fails.

_Charles._ Yes, yes: We are aware, sir: for your part in it Means shall be found to thank you.

_Pym._ Pray you, read This schedule! I would learn from your own mouth --(It is a matter much concerning me)-- Whether, if two Estates of us concede The death of Strafford, on the grounds set forth Within that parchment, you, sir, can resolve To grant your own consent to it. This Bill Is framed by me. If you determine, sir, That England's manifested will should guide Your judgment, ere another week such will Shall manifest itself. If not,--I cast Aside the measure.

_Charles._ You can hinder, then, The introduction of this Bill?

_Pym._ I can.

_Charles._ He is my friend, sir: I have wronged him: mark you, Had I not wronged him, this might be. You think Because you hate the Earl ... (turn not away, We know you hate him)--no one else could love Strafford: but he has saved me, some affirm.

Think of his pride! And do you know one strange, One frightful thing? We all have used the man As though a drudge of ours, with not a source Of happy thoughts except in us; and yet Strafford has wife and children, household cares, Just as if we had never been. Ah sir, You are moved, even you, a solitary man Wed to your cause--to England if you will!

_Pym._ Yes--think, my soul--to England! Draw not back!

_Charles._ Prevent that Bill, sir! All your course seems fair Till now. Why, in the end, 'tis I should sign The warrant for his death! You have said much I ponder on; I never meant, indeed, Strafford should serve me any more. I take The Commons' counsel; but this Bill is yours-- Nor worthy of its leader: care not, sir, For that, however! I will quite forget You named it to me. You are satisfied?

_Pym._ Listen to me, sir! Eliot laid his hand, Wasted and white, upon my forehead once; Wentworth--he's gone now!--has talked on, whole nights, And I beside him; Hampden loves me: sir, How can I breathe and not wish England well, And her King well?

_Charles._ I thank you, sir, who leave That King his servant. Thanks, sir!

_Pym._ Let me speak!

--Who may not speak again; whose spirit yearns For a cool night after this weary day: --Who would not have my soul turn sicker yet In a new task, more fatal, more august, More full of England's utter weal or woe.

I thought, sir, could I find myself with you, After this trial, alone, as man to man-- I might say something, warn you, pray you, save-- Mark me, King Charles, save----you!

But G.o.d must do it. Yet I warn you, sir-- (With Strafford's faded eyes yet full on me) As you would have no deeper question moved --"How long the Many must endure the One,"

a.s.sure me, sir, if England give a.s.sent To Strafford's death, you will not interfere!

Or----

_Charles._ G.o.d forsakes me. I am in a net And cannot move. Let all be as you say!

_Enter +Lady+ CARLISLE._

_Lady Carlisle._ He loves you--looking beautiful with joy Because you sent me! he would spare you all The pain! he never dreamed you would forsake Your servant in the evil day--nay, see Your scheme returned! That generous heart of his!

He needs it not--or, needing it, disdains A course that might endanger you--you, sir, Whom Strafford from his inmost soul....

[_Seeing PYM._] Well met!

No fear for Strafford! All that's true and brave On your own side shall help us: we are now Stronger than ever.

Ha--what, sir, is this?

All is not well! What parchment have you there?

_Pym._ Sir, much is saved us both.

_Lady Carlisle._ This Bill! Your lip Whitens--you could not read one line to me Your voice would falter so!

_Pym._ No recreant yet!

The great word went from England to my soul, And I arose. The end is very near.

_Lady Carlisle._ I am to save him! All have shrunk beside; 'Tis only I am left. Heaven will make strong The hand now as the heart. Then let both die!

In the last act Browning has drawn upon his imagination more than in any other part of the play. Strafford in prison in the Tower is the center around which all the other elements of the drama are made to revolve. A glimpse, the first, of the man in a purely human capacity is given in the second scene with Strafford and his children. From all accounts little Anne was a precocious child and Browning has sketched her accordingly. The scene is like a gleam of sunshine in the gathering gloom.

The genuine grief felt by the historical Charles over the part he played in the ruin of Strafford is brought out in an interview between Strafford and Charles, who is represented as coming disguised to the prison. Strafford who has been hoping for pardon from the King learns from Hollis, in the King's presence, that the King has signed his death warrant. He receives this shock with the remark which history attributes to him.

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

History tells us of two efforts to rescue Strafford. One of these was an attempt to bribe Balfour to allow him to escape from the tower. This hint the Poet has worked up into the episode of Charles, calling Balfour and begging him to go at once to Parliament, to say he will grant all demands, and that he chooses to pardon Strafford. History, however, does not say that Lady Carlisle was implicated in any plan for the rescue of Strafford, of which Browning makes so much. According to Gardiner, she was by this time bestowing her favors upon Pym. Devotion to the truth here on Browning's part would have completely ruined the inner unity of the play. Carlisle, the woman ready to devote herself to Strafford's utmost need, while Strafford is more or less indifferent to her is the artistic compliment of Strafford the man devoted to the unresponsive King. The failure of the escape through Pym's intervention is a final dramatic climax bringing face to face not so much the two individual men as the two principles of government for which England was warring, the Monarchical and the Parliamentary. To the last, Strafford is loyal to the King and the Kingly idea, while Pym crushing his human feelings under foot, calmly contemplates the sacrifice not only of Strafford, but even of the King, if England's need demand it.

In this supreme moment of agony when Strafford and Pym meet face to face both men are made to realize an abiding love for each other beneath all their earthly differences. "A great poet of our own day," writes Gardiner, "clothing the reconciling spirit of the nineteenth century in words which never could have been spoken in the seventeenth, has breathed a high wish. On his page an imaginary Pym, recalling an imaginary friendship, looks forward hopefully to a reunion in a better and brighter world."

SCENE II.--_The Tower._