Oh, curs'd ambition, thou devouring bird,
How dost thou from the field of honesty
Pick every grain of profit and delight,

And mock the reaper, virtue! Bloody man!
Know that I still have power, have still the means
To make that certain which I stoop to ask;
And fix myself against thy black design,
And tell thee, dauntless, that he shall not die.
Crom. Will Fairfax turn a rebel to the cause,
And shame his glories?

Fair. I abjure the name;

I know no rebel on the side of virtue.
This I am sure of, he that acts unjusꞌly,

Is the worst rebel to himself; and though now
Ambition's trumpet and the drum of power
May drown the sound, yet conscience will, one day,
Speak loudly to him, and repeat that name.

Crom. You talk as 't were a murder, not a justice.

Have we not brought him to an open trial ›

Does not the general cry pronounce his death?
Come, Fairfax dares not-

Fair. By yon heaven, I will

I know thee resolute; but so is Fairfax.

You see my purpose, and shall find I dare.

[Going

Crom. Fairfax, yet stay. I would extend my power

To its full stretch, to satisfy your wish;

Yet would not have you think that I should grant That to your threats, which I deny'd your prayerJudge not so meanly of yourself and me.

Be calm, and hear me -What is human nature,
When the intemperate heat of passion blinds
The eye
of reason, and commits her guidance
To headlong rashness? He directs her steps
Wide of success to error's pathless way,
And disappointments wild; yet such we are,
So frail our being, that our judgment reaches
Scarce farther than our sight-Let us retire,
And, in this great affair, entreat his aid,
Who only can direct to certainty.

There is I know not what of good presage,
That dawns within, and lights to happy issue.
Fair. If Heaven and you consider it alike,
It must be happy.

Crom. An hour or two of pray'r

Will pull down favour upon Charles and us.

Fair. I am contented; but am still resolv'd

That Charles shall live-I shall expect your answer With the impatience of desiring lovers,

Who swell a moment's absence to an age.

[Exit.

Crom. This was a danger quite beyond my view,

Which only this expedient could prevent.
Fairfax is weak in judgment; but so brave,

That, set determination by his side,
And he ascends the mountain top of peril.

Now time is gain'd to ward against his power,
Which must be quickly thought on-To my wish-

Enter IRETON.

Ire. I but this instant met the general, Fairfax,

G

Who told me his entreaty had prevail'd

To save the life of Charles- -'Tis more than won

der

Crom. Ireton, thy presence never was more timely. I would disclose; but now each moment's loss

Is more than the neglect of future years.
Hie thee in person to St. James's, Ireton,
And warn the officer, whose charge leads forth
The king to execution, to be sudden :

Let him be more than punctual to the time;
If his respect to us forerun his warrant,
It shall win greatness for him; so inform him-
That done, repair o' th' instant to the army,
And see a chosen party march directly,

(Such as can well be trusted) post them, Ireton,
Around the scaffold- -My best kinsman, fly.

[Exit Ireton.

Why, now, I think I have secur'd my point;

I set out in the current of the tide,

And not one wind that blows around the compass,
But drives me to success. Ambition, now,
Soars to its darling height, and, eagle-like,
Looks at the sun of power, enjoys its blaze,

And grows familiar with the brightness; now I see
Dominion nigh; superiority

Beckons and points me to the chair of state;

There grandeur robes me. Now let Cromwell boast
That he has reft the crown from Charles's brow,
To make it blaze more awful on his own.

[Exit.

SCENE 11.

The KING discovered on a Couch.

King. Kind sleep, farewell!

Thou hast been loyal in the nightly care,
And always smooth'd my pillow at our parting,
As to a faithful friend, I say, farewell,

And thank thee for thy service. Here's another,

Enter Bishop JUXON.

Whose better care gives quiet to the mind;
Who gives us the rich opiate of content,
That makes us sleep in hope, and wake to mercy;
Him too, the bankrupt Charles can only pay
As he has done the former; no return,

But the poor gratitude of thanks, warm from the heart.
Say, my good lord, have you so soften❜d rigour,
That I may see my children ere I die?

Juxon. It is permitted, sir; they wait without;

I would not let them enter, till I knew

You were prepar'd, and ready for the interview.

[Exit Juxon.

King. Good Juxon, lead them hither.

father,

Spite of my firmness, steals into my eye,

Now the

And melts my manhood. Heart, thou hast no temper Proof against nature, speaking in a child!

Enter Bishop JUXON, JAMES, GLO'STER, and ELIZABETH.

James. My royal father!

King. Good Juxon, make them rise;

For if I look that way I shall kneel too,

And join with them in tears. A chair, good Juxon. [Juxon brings a chair forward, and raises the children. Come hither, James; nay, do not weep, my boy; Keep thy eyes bright to look on better times.

James. I will command my nature if I can, And stop these tears of sorrow; for, indeed, They drown my sight; and I would view thee well, Copy my royal father in his death,

And be the son of his heroic virtues.

King. Thou art the child of duty: hear me, James,

And lay up this last lesson in thy heart:

When I am dead, look on thy brother Charles

Not as thy brother only, but thy king;

Pay him fraternal love, and subject duty;

Nor let ambition, or the thirst to reign,

Poison thy firm allegiance. When thou seest him,
Bear him my blessing, and this last advice:
If Heaven restores him to his lawful crown,
Let him wreak no revenge upon his foes,
But think it his best conquest to forgive;

With kindness let him treat success, so shall she be
A constant guest; his promise, when once given,
Let no advantage break; nor any view