And now 'tis lovely; the redress of wrongs,
Hunger's repast, and the large draught of thirst,
The poor man's riches, and the rich man's wealth,
When thus apply'd-The means to stop the death,
The death of Charles-This is my wish for power.
[Exit.
Draws, and discovers the High-Court. KING, BRADSHAW, CROMWELL, IRETON, &c.
King. Sir, were my person all the danger here,
I should not think it worth the pain of speech:
Your charge 'gainst me is of the smallest force;
But 'tis my people's liberties I prize,
At which through me you strike: impeachments run
In the king's name, and therefore cannot lie
Against the king himself; what earthly power
Can justly call me to account? By what law
Have you erected this pretended court?
The house of commons ì—Say, is that alone
A court of judicature? Where are the lords
To lend their aid? the king to sit supreme,
And pass the nation's laws? Are these your means
To bring the king to meet his parliament?
To force him hither like a criminal?
I lately did require, and press'd it warmly,
Stoop'd almost to entreaty, to be heard
Before both houses in the Painted-chamber;
I told you what I had to offer there
Concern'd the kingdom's safety more than mine:
-Is this your boasted justice?
Consider of it yet-and hear your king:
If you do not, remember where it lies,
The weight of this day's guilt; if you refuse—
Do as you please i have no more to say.
Brad. The court has something then to say to you, Which, though it may not please you, must be spoke : You have been charged with tyranny and murder, With levying arms against the commonwealth, And joining in rebellion 'gainst the people.
King. Sir, give me leave to speak, ere sentence passes,
Against those imputations
Brad. By your favour,
Your time is past, and sentence now approaching.
King. Am I not to be heard?
You have disown'd us for a court of justice;
We have too long been trifled with already,
And must proceed-Attend your sentence, sir:
The commons, in behalf of the whole people,
Have constituted this high-court of justice,
To try Charles Stuart, lately king of England.
He has thrice heard his charge, and thrice deny'd
The power and jurisdiction of the court;
For which contempt, and proof of his high crimes,
It does pronounce him tyrant, traitor, murderer,
Adjudging him to death, by severing
His head and body- -This is the joint act,
The sentence, judgment, and the resolution
Of the whole court.
[The whole Court rises in token of their assent. King. Will you hear me, sir?
Brad. Not after sentence.
King. No, sir?
Brad. It is too late. Withdraw your prisoner. "King. May I not speak?—I may, sir, after sen
"Your favour, sir, I may, sir, after sentence.
"Brad. Adjourn the court.”
[The King is brought forward; the Scene closes.
King. Deny'd to speak!-Why have I lived to this?
When I had power, the meanest of my subjects,
Not heard by me, would straight arraign my justice,
And brand me with the hated name of tyrant.
Will future ages, looking back to this,
Credit the record? They will rather deem it
The black invective of a partial pen,
And curse his memory that libell'd England.
Sir, I am ready to attend your will,
Do your worst office; if 'tis your commission,
Then lead me down this instant to the block;
'Twill be a joyful hearing; for, believe me,
I would not live in longer fellowship
With men, whom my best thoughts must call ungrate
Tom. Sir, my commands are to attend you back; I have no more in charge.
[As he goes out, Fairfax enters.
Fair. Sir, let me trespass for a word or two,
Ere you remove your prisoner.
Tom. I obey, sir.
King. Your pleasure, sir? If you come here t'insult, Spare not the taunt, nor the opprobrious smile: I have to-day already borne so much,
That an addition will be scarcely felt.
Fair. Wrong me not so; 1 bear a fairer purpose:
My heart, detesting this accursed day,
Comes to approve its honesty to Charles:
If I have often fought against thy arms,
My conscience dictated, and not my hate:
Acquit me to thyself of this last act,
And judge the former as you please.
King. Good Fairfax,
The present times are liable to error,
I am a fatal instance; then forgive me.
I had forgot how lately I had cause
To think you now no enemy to Charles;
But sorrow forc'd down her lethargic draught,
Which had clos'd up the eye of memory.
Fair. Ill-fated prince! how does thy firmness shine, And make affliction glorious! Oh, 'tis thus
The truly great exert their resolution,
And make calamity a virtue. Cromwell now
Loses the barb'rous joy of his design,
To see misfortune's arrow fail to pierce thee.
King. Believe ne, Fairfax, 'tis not innate firmness, The dame morality, the Stoic patience,
That furnish true serenity of mind :
I had try'd all these helps, but prov'd them weak, And found the best philosophy in virtue.
Can the fond teacher's lesson, conn'd by rote,
Change the dark lodging of the murderer's breast
To the sun-lighted rooms of innocence? Oh, no!
As to the agents of my present fate,
I look upon them with the eye of thanks;
Who from this life of sorrow wing my parting,
And send me sooner to an happier throne.
Fair. Such resignation wears the noble mind,
And triumphs over death: but, gentle Charles!
Think not of death so soon, live long and happy.
Fairfax will try his utmost stretch of power,
But you shall live, though this black day has happen'd;
Persuasion, prayer, and force, shall all be us'd,'
To make my promise good.
King Good Fairfax, hear me;
Nor indiscreetly throw thyself away,
To save the man whose wishes are to die.
I had remov'd my thoughts from earth, and now
'T will be such pain to call them back again-
Life is not worth the trouble: yet I thank thee.
Fair. This was but half my purpose: hear me on-
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