SCENE VI

_An evening in November, 1647. A room in Hampton Court, where CHARLES

THE FIRST, now a prisoner with the army, is lodged._

_At a table, writing, is NEAL, the King's secretary. He finishes his

document, and, going to a bureau, locks it away. He returns to the

table, and, taking up an unopened envelope, examines it carefully. As he

is doing so CHARLES enters from an inner room._

_Charles:_

From Hamilton?

_Neal:_

Yes, sire.

_Charles:_

Has it been opened?

_Neal:_

I think not.

(CHARLES takes the letter, opens and reads it.)

_Charles:_

Good. The commissioners from Scotland are in London. They are prepared

to hear from us.

_Neal:_

Andrews goes to London to-night. He is to be trusted.

_Charles:_

Everything begins to move for us again. To-morrow they will miss us

here, eh, Neal? In a week we should be at Carisbrooke.

_Neal:_

Do not be too confident, sire. Things have miscarried before.

_Charles:_

But not this time, Neal, believe me. Their House and their army are at

odds. I've seen to that. It has gained time, and perplexed their

resolution. And now Scotland will strike again, and this time mortally.

Yes, the end will be with us, mark me.

_Ned:_

May Your Majesty reckon truly.

_Charles:_

Is Cromwell coming to-night?

_Ned:_

He said not.

_Charles:_

Strangely, the fellow grows on me. But he's a fool, Neal. Brave, but a

fool. He sees nothing. Indeed, he's too dull. Ireton too--they are heavy

stuff. Clods. Poor country. She needs us again truly. To check such

mummers as these--all means are virtuous for that, Neal, eh?

_Neal:_

Your Majesty knows.

_Charles:_

Yes, we need no counsel. You are sure that Cromwell was not coming

to-night.

_Neal:_

That was as he said, sire.

_Charles:_

Then let us consider. These Scots. What was it? Did you set it down?

_Neal:_

Yes, sire.

(He gets the paper that he put in the bureau, and gives it to CHARLES.)

_Charles_

(reading it):

Yes. Write.

(NEAL does so on a large folio sheet.)

Clause I. For the reason that the Scots should invade England. Let the

intrigues of Parliament with the army and its leaders--notably Oliver

Cromwell--to the peril of the Church and the King, stand to the world

in justification. Clause 2. The royal forces in England shall move

when and as the Duke of Hamilton directs. Clause 3. The King shall

guarantee Presbyterian control in England for three years from this

date. But the King shall for himself be at liberty to use his own form

of divine service. Clause 4. All opinion and practice of those who

call themselves Independents are to be suppressed. To see that this

is diligently done may be left to the King's pleasure.... Yes--once

we are at Carisbrooke.... Copy that, Neal. I will sign it. Let it go

by Andrews to-night.

_Neal:_

Yes, sire.

_Charles:_

Do it now.

(NEAL proceeds to do so. CHARLES moves across to a book-case between the

table and the main door. As he stands there, there is a knock at the

door.)

_Charles:_

Yes?

(The door is opened by CROMWELL, with whom is IRETON.)

_Charles:_

Mr. Cromwell. We did not expect you.

_Cromwell:_

No, sir. It is unexpected.

(As the two men come into the room, CHARLES covers NEAL from them as he

can. The secretary has no time but to conceal his note by placing it

under a case of folio papers on the table. As the others approach the

table, he bows and retires. CHARLES sits, and motions the others to do

the same. CROMWELL takes NEAL'S place.)

_Cromwell:_

We came, sir, to reassure ourselves.

_Charles:_

As to what?

_Cromwell:_

Your Majesty knows that, in treating with you as we have done these

months past, we have been subject to suspicions.

_Charles:_

I imagined that it might be so. But your character and your reputation,

Mr. Cromwell, can ignore these.

_Cromwell:_

It is suggested that we become courtiers, and susceptible as courtiers

are. But that is nothing. Continually we are told that Your Majesty will

outwit us.

_Charles:_

But that is too fantastic. Between men so open one with another. Our

scruples--persuasion--yes, these may take time. We may not always easily

understand each other there. But that there should be any question of

duplicity between us--it is monstrous. We may disagree, stubbornly, Mr.

Cromwell, but we know each the other's thought.

_Cromwell:_

I believe it. You know nothing of these Scotch agents in London?

_Charles:_

Scotch?

_Ireton:_

They arrived yesterday.

_Charles:_

Who are they?

_Cromwell:_

You do not know, sir?

_Charles:_

I? Indeed, no.

_Cromwell:_

I did not suppose it. But already I am beset by warnings. I dismiss

them, giving my word in this for your integrity, as it were.

_Charles:_

Minds are strained in these days, It is shameless of them to say this.

_Ireton:_

It means so much, you see, sir. Intrigues with Scotland--there are none,

we are assured, but if there were it would almost inevitably bring civil

war again. The mere shadow of that in men's minds is enough, indeed, to

overthrow them. No man can consider the possibility of that without

desolation.

_Charles:_

No. That is unquestionable.

_Cromwell:_

And so I was minded to come, and be sure by word of mouth, so to speak.

Your Majesty knows how suspicions creep in absence, even of those whom

we trust. And I have shown, sir, that I trust you.

_Charles:_

We are not insensitive.

_Ireton:_

It is of that trust, truly worn, sir, that we may all yet look for a

happy settlement.

_Charles:_

It is my hope, devoutly.

_Cromwell:_

Parliament bends a little to my persuasion. If I could but induce Your

Majesty to treat no longer directly with them, but to leave all to me.

_Charles:_

It is our Parliament still. We cannot slight them.

_Cromwell:_

But, sir, you confuse things daily. If the army were no longer intact,

it would be another matter. But now it is the army that must be

satisfied--in the end there is the real authority. Remember, sir, that

these men are not merely soldiers. They are the heart and the conscience

of the nation in arms. By their arms thay have prevailed, how bloodily

Your Majesty knows. They stand now to see that the settlement is not

against that conscience that armed them.

_Charles:_

But we must consider ourselves. It would be folly to anger the House.

_Cromwell:_

The House can do nothing without us. And I have considered you, sir. I

have persuaded the army that the monarchy is the aptest form of

government for this country. It was difficult, but my belief has

prevailed. I have even won respect for Your Majesty's person. Do but

give us our guarantees, and you will mount a securer throne, I think,

than any king has yet held in England.

_Charles:_

But Parliament--

_Ireton:_

No, sir. Parliament's demands are not our demands. To give them what

they ask will be to lose all opinion in the army. That would be fatal.

_Cromwell:_

Parliament and the army are at one in asking for constitutional

safeguards. All are agreed on that. But after that we are in dispute,

irreconcileably. They want a Presbyterian despotism. This land, sir, has

had enough of despotism, and we will not exchange one despotism for

another. We, the army, demand liberty of opinion. We respect law, we

stand, above all, for order and right behaviour, for an observance of

the rights of others. But we demand that a man's thought shall be his

own, that his faith shall be directed by none. We stand for Bible

freedom. And we, sir, are strong enough to make Parliament accept that,

but Parliament can never make us accept the tyranny of the Presbyters.

We are the new Independents, sir, the Independents of the spirit. We are

determined that henceforth in England no man shall suffer for his faith.

_Charles:_

I respect these ambitions.

_Ireton:_

Do but let us go to the army with that respect, and not a trooper but

will renew your power for you.

_Charles:_

A power a little cropped, eh, Mr. Ireton?

_Cromwell:_

No, sir, enlarged. You have ruled by interest and fear. You can go back

to rule by the affection of a free people. You have the qualities,

sir--why waste them?

_Charles:_

You persuade well. Honestly, I am sure.

_Cromwell:_

I could take all. I do not want it. I want to restore your fortune, to

give you back a regenerate kingship. Will you take it, sir? It is of

love I offer it, love of England, of your great office. And you should

adorn that inheritance. Men should be proud to call you King, sir.

_Ireton:_

We have that pride--and we have suffered.

_Cromwell:_

I can disabuse rumour about Scotland, I can persuade Parliament about

the Presbytery, I can convince the army of your good faith as to

tolerance, if you will but give me the word. Let us together make

Charles Rex the noblest name of Christendom.

_Charles:_

How shall I stand with the Episcopacy?

_Cromwell:_

All tyrannies must go together. We mislike no bishops save that they

stand by a tyrannous church. That we will destroy. It is there as I have

said. We attack not faiths or opinions, but despotism. Let a man think

as he will, but he shall command no other man to think it.

_Ireton:_

We will not persecute even our persecutors. But they shall stay their

hands, now and for ever.

_Cromwell:_

This is just; merciful even. Will you work with us together, sir, to the

salvation of our country?

_Charles:_

You are very patient.

_Cromwell:_

To great ends. Why do you deliberate, sir? What invention is needed? All

is so plain. And many wish you disaster. If you refuse this, it may be

hard to deny them.

_Charles:_

We do not fear disaster.

_Cromwell:_

But I offer you an ascendancy undreamt of. It should be plain.

_Charles:_

You offer much, and it should prosper. Or I think so. But I must

consider. One has old habits, not easily to be put by. One grows to

kingship thus, or thus--the manner does not readily change. But I will

consider it.

_Cromwell:_

Time presses.

_Charles:_

Yes, but a day or two. Say three days.

_Cromwell:_

Three days, then, sir. I brought Your Majesty this.

(He takes a miniature from his pouch.)

It is newly drawn by Mr. Cooper. It is of a young man, Andrew Marvell,

of whose verses Your Majesty would think well. He should do much. Cooper

has drawn it well--it's very decisive in line, sir?

_Charles:_

Yes. A little heavy there in the nostril, perhaps, but good. Yes, very.

_Cromwell:_

I am told that Van Dyck admires him.

_Charles:_

I have heard him say so.

_Cromwell:_

It's generous of him--the methods are so different.

_Charles:_

Van Dyck draws marvellously in sanguine.

(He takes a drawing from the drawer in front of him and places it before

Cromwell, on the case of papers.)

That approaches any of the masters, I think.

_Cromwell:_

Good--yes. And yet Hans Holbein was incomparable--not so assertive--no,

copious, and yet as complete, simpler. But--yes, there is great dignity

here.

(He holds up the drawing in front of him, holding it against the folio

case for firmness. CHARLES makes a movement, but instantly restrains

himself. CROMWELL is about to replace the drawing and case on the table,

when his glance falls on NEAL'S paper, which is lying in front of him.

He sees nothing, but a second glance arrests all his movement. After a

moment he turns to look fixedly at the King. There is a silence; then:)

_Cromwell:_

What in the name of God is this?

(Striking the paper with his hand.)

_Charles:_

It is private to ourselves.

_Cromwell_

(rising):

To ourselves? For our private pleasure we will destroy this country, and

blast the people in it! Read it, Ireton.

(IRETON takes the paper and rises.)

_Charles_

(rising):

These are notes for our own contemplation.

_Cromwell:_

Here are ten lines of the bitterest damnation that ever came from the

mind of treason.

(Taking the paper again.)

The Scots to invade England. The King's arms to be raised again.

Presbytery to... Freedom to be destroyed--and diligently, at the King's

pleasure. Word blaspheming word as we have spoken. Disastrous man!

_Ireton:_

How far has this gone?

_Charles:_

We are not before our judges.

_Cromwell:_

It will come. This iniquity means we know not what new bitterness of

destruction. But know this, Charles Stuart, that, when we draw the sword

again, it is the sword of judgment. Out there many call you the man of

blood. I have laboured for you, have met them all in persuasion. I had

prevailed. It is finished. Blood is upon us again, blood spilled for a

perfidious king. The sword that we had put by for ever! My God, how I

have feared it! Well, so be it. We go to the field again--but then,

prepare you for the reckoning. It shall be to the uttermost.

_Charles:_

This argument is ended.

_Cromwell:_

All arguments are ended.

(He goes with IRETON, taking the paper.)

THE SCENE CLOSES

Oliver Cromwell: A Play · 第 6 / 8 章