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Am I the parlia

Crom. Why this address to me?

ment?

'Tis they who justly call him to account,

And form this high tribunal.

Juxon. Justly, Cromwell!

Crom. Ay, good bishop, justly!

I cry your mercy.

By the good old cause!

It is but gratitude in you to plead :
Episcopacy was the rock he split on;

And he has ventur'd fairly for your lawn :
How learnedly did he uphold your cause,
When Henderson inveigh'd against your mitres !
Did he not write full nobly? Say'st thou, bishop
Juxon. His conscience prompted him to what he did;
His zeal for us can never be forgotten.

Crom. His conscience you say true-his conscience did it :

He would have stretch'd to arbitrary sway,
And swallow'd down our liberties and laws:
His conscience would have soon digested them.
Fair. Let us not into insult turn our power;
'Good fortune is not wedded to our arms:
Conquest, like a young maiden with her lover,
If roughly treated, turns her smiles to frowns,
And hates where once she lov'd..

Crom. I stand corrected.

To me then you apply in Charles's favour,
And wait my answer, which is briefly thus:
I am but one, and (as the weaker must)
Flow in the current of majority

D

My single voice, be it against or for,

Avails him little: if the rest incline

To think of mercy and of Charles together,
'Tis fairly done, and e'en to Cromwell's wish:
This is the sum of all I can deliver————

Fairfax, I have matter for your private ear.
Juxon. We humbly take our leaves.

Fair. My lords, farewell!

[Exeunt Jux. Rich. and Lady Fair.

Crom. How can you waste your time on trash like

this?

Were Fairfax' honour to be doubted, this might make
The child suspicion grow to certainty;

But we are confident in you: your actions speak.
Yet, Fairfax, do not let thy noble eye

Catch the contagion of weak-judging pity,

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And sympathise with beggars. To my purpose:
The council, at whose head your wisdom sits,
Weighing some depositions 'gainst the king,.
Would have your judgment's sanction : - they request
Your presence there; I bear their will with pleasure.
Fair. It is not needed, sir.

As to the purpose of their meeting, say,
If they incline to mercy, let their charge
Be weaker than it is; but if to rigour,

They have, I fear, too much of that already :
Let them (if friendly Fairfax may advise)

Judge with that candour they expect of Heaven.
Crom. You will not go then ?

Fair. Say I cannot go.

My reason pleads against so bad a deed,

And inclination holds me; nay, yet more,

A secret impulse strikes upon my soul,

Which, though I had the will, would yet detain me. Crom. Folly and superstition! Drive them hence;

And, in exchange, wear honours and renown:

Of this I've said-And, noble Fairfax, believe me,
That when the wind of promise and of hope
Stretches the canvass out of resolution,
The bark, design, flies swift before the gale,
And quickly anchors in good-fortune's bay;
Then we unlade our freight of doubts and fears,
And barter them for happiness and glory.

[Exit. Fair. He who embarks himself in Cromwell's ship, Outsails fair truth and ev'ry honest purpose. 'Tis now too plain-How could I doubt so long? My honesty has made me Cromwell's tool: His arts have turn'd my virtue to a sword, And now 'tis bared against me.

But say, shall Fairfax, whom in open field
An army could not conquer, fall a prey
To the ambitious prospects of one man?
No, Fairfax-rouse up thy resentment's force,
And rescue thy renown from infamy.

SCENE II.

[Exit.

A Chamber. King CHARLES discovered reading.

King. What art thou, life, so dearly lov'd by all What are thy charms, that thus the great desire thee, And to retain thee part with pomp and titles ?

To buy thy presence, the gold-watching miser
Will pour his bags of mouldy treasure out,
And grow at once a prodigal. The wretch
Clad with disease and poverty's thin coat,
Yet holds thee fast, though painful company.
Oh, life! thou universal wish, what art thou?
Thou 'rt but a day- -a few uneasy hours:
Thy morn is greeted by the flocks and herds,
And every bird that flatters with its note,
Salutes thy rising sun: thy noon approaching,
Then haste the flies and every creeping insect
To bask in thy meridian; that declining,
As quickly they depart, and leave thy evening
To mourn the absent ray: night at hand,
Then croaks the raven conscience, time mispent;
The owl despair screams hideous, and the bat
Confusion Autters up and down-

Life's but a lengthen'd day not worth the waking for.

My dearest queen!

Enter QUEEN.

I have been summing up the amount of life,
But found no value in it, till you came.

Queen. Do not perplex yourself with thoughts like

those:

Ill-fortune at the worst, returns to better;
At least we think so, as it grows familiar.
King. No, I was only arming for the worst.
I have try'd the temper of my inmost soul,
And find it ready now for all encounters:
Death cannot shake it.

Queen. Do not talk of death:

The apprehension shakes my tender heart;

Ages of love, I hope, are yet to come,

Ere that black hour arrives: such chilling thoughts Disgrace the lodging of that noble breast.

King What have I not to fear? thus close confin'd;
To-morrow forc'd to trial. Will those men,
Who insolently drag me to the bar,
Stop in the middle of their purpose? No.
I must prepare for all extremities:

And (be that Power ador'd, that lends me comfort)
1 feel I am.- Oh, do not weep, my queen!
Rather rejoice with me, to find my thoughts
Outstretch the painful verge of human life,
And have no wish on earth-but thee! 'Tis there
Indeed I feel: peace and resignation

Had wander'd o'er the rooms of every thought,
To shut misfortune out, but left this door
Unclos'd, through which calamity

Has enter'd in thy shape to seize my heart.

Queen. Be more yourself, my lord; let majesty Take root within thy heart, nor meanly bend Before ill-fortune's blast.

King. Oh, doubt me not!

'Tis only on the side where you are plac'd,
That I can know a fear. For Charles's self,
Let fierce encounter with the sword of danger
Bring him to bloodiest proof; and if he shrinks,
Despise him. Here, I glory in my weakness.
He is no man whom tenderness not melts,

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