Read The Complete Poems of Percy Bysshe Shelley Page 62


  Strafford. A rod in pickle for the Fool’s back!

  Archy. Ay, and some are now smiling whose tears will make the brine; for the Fool sees—–

  Strafford. Insolent! You shall have your coat turned and be whipped out of the palace for this.

  Archy. When all the fools are whipped, and all the Protestant writers, while the knaves are whipping the fools ever since a thief was set to catch a thief. If all turncoats were whipped out of palaces, poor Archy would be disgraced in good company. Let the knaves whip the fools, and all the fools laugh at it. [Let the] wise and godly slit each other’s noses and ears (having no need of any sense of discernment in their craft); and the knaves, to marshal them, join in a procession to Bedlam, to entreat the madmen to omit their sublime Platonic contemplations, and manage the state of England. Let all the honest men who lie [pinched?] up at the prisons or the pillories, in custody of the pursuivants of the High-Commission Court, marshal them.

  Enter Secretary LYTTELTON, with papers.

  King (looking over the papers). These stiff Scots

  His Grace of Canterbury must take order

  To force under the Church’s yoke.—You, Wentworth,

  Shall be myself in Ireland, and shall add

  Your wisdom, gentleness, and energy,

  To what in me were wanting.—My Lord Weston,

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  Look that those merchants draw not without loss

  Their bullion from the Tower; and, on the payment

  Of shipmoney, take fullest compensation

  For violation of our royal forests,

  Whose limits, from neglect, have been o’ergrown

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  With cottages and cornfields. The uttermost

  Farthing exact from those who claim exemption

  From knighthood: that which once was a reward

  Shall thus be made a punishment, that subjects

  May know how majesty can wear at will

  80

  The rugged mood.—My Lord of Coventry,

  Lay my command upon the Courts below

  That bail be not accepted for the prisoners

  Under the warrant of the Star Chamber.

  The people shall not find the stubbornness

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  Of Parliament a cheap or easy method

  Of dealing with their rightful sovereign:

  And doubt not this, my Lord of Coventry,

  We will find time and place for fit rebuke.—

  My Lord of Canterbury.

  Archy. The fool is here.

  90

  Laud. I crave permission of your Majesty

  To order that this insolent fellow be

  Chastised: he mocks the sacred character,

  Scoffs at the state, and—

  King. What, my Archy?

  He mocks and mimics all he sees and hears,

  95

  Yet with a quaint and graceful licence—Prithee

  For this once do not as Prynne would, were he

  Primate of England. With your Grace’s leave,

  He lives in his own world; and, like a parrot

  Hung in his gilded prison from the window

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  Of a queen’s bower over the public way,

  Blasphemes with a bird’s mind:—his words, like arrows

  Which know no aim beyond the archer’s wit,

  Strike sometimes what eludes philosophy.—

  (To ARCHY.) Go, sirrah, and repent of your offence

  105

  Ten minutes in the rain; be it your penance

  To bring news how the world goes there.

  [Exit ARCHY.

  Poor Archy!

  He weaves about himself a world of mirth

  Out of the wreck of ours.

  Laud. I take with patience, as my Master did,

  All scoffs permitted from above.

  110

  King. My lord,

  Pray overlook these papers. Archy’s words

  Had wings, but these have talons.

  Queen. And the lion

  That wears them must be tamed. My dearest lord,

  I see the new-born courage in your eye

  115

  Armed to strike dead the Spirit of the Time,

  Which spurs to rage the many-headed beast.

  Do thou persist: for, faint but in resolve,

  And it were better thou hadst still remained

  The slave of thine own slaves, who tear like curs

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  The fugitive, and flee from the pursuer;

  And Opportunity, that empty wolf,

  Flies at his throat who falls. Subdue thy actions

  Even to the disposition of thy purpose,

  And be that tempered as the Ebro’s steel;

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  And banish weak-eyed Mercy to the weak,

  Whence she will greet thee with a gift of peace,

  And not betray thee with a traitor’s kiss,

  As when she keeps the company of rebels,

  Who think that she is Fear. This do, lest we

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  Should fall as from a glorious pinnacle

  In a bright dream, and wake as from a dream

  Out of our worshipped state.

  King. Belovèd friend,

  God is my witness that this weight of power,

  Which He sets me my earthly task to wield

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  Under His law, is my delight and pride

  Only because thou lovest that and me.

  For a king bears the office of a God

  To all the under world; and to his God

  Alone he must deliver up his trust,

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  Unshorn of its permitted attributes.

  [It seems] now as the baser elements

  Had mutinied against the golden sun

  That kindles them to harmony, and quells

  Their self-destroying rapine. The wild million

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  Strike at the eye that guides them; like as humours

  Of the distempered body that conspire

  Against the spirit of life throned in the heart,—

  And thus become the prey of one another,

  And last of death.

  Strafford. That which would be ambition in a subject

  150

  Is duty in a sovereign; for on him,

  As on a keystone, hangs the arch of life,

  Whose safety is its strength. Degree and form,

  And all that makes the age of reasoning man

  More memorable than a beast’s, depend on this—

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  That Right should fence itself inviolably

  With Power; in which respect the state of England

  From usurpation by the insolent commons

  Cries for reform.

  Get treason, and spare treasure. Fee with coin

  160

  The loudest murmurers; feed with jealousies

  Opposing factions,—be thyself of none;

  And borrow gold of many, for those who lend

  Will serve thee till thou payest them; and thus

  Keep the fierce spirit of the hour at bay,

  165

  Till time, and its coming generations

  Of nights and days unborn, bring some one chance,

  · · · · · · ·

  Or war or pestilence or Nature’s self,—

  By some distemperature or terrible sign,

  Be as an arbiter betwixt themselves.

  170

  Nor let your Majesty

  Doubt here the peril of the unseen event.

  How did your brother Kings, coheritors

  In your high interest in the subject earth,

  Rise past such troubles to that height of power

  175

  Where now they sit, and awfully serene

  Smile on the trembling world? Such popular storms

  Philip the Second of Spain, this Lewis of France,

  And late the German head
of many bodies,

  And every petty lord of Italy,

  180

  Quelled or by arts or arms. Is England poorer

  Or feebler? or art thou who wield’st her power

  Tamer than they? or shall this island be—

  [Girdled] by its inviolable waters—

  To the world present and the world to come

  185

  Sole pattern of extinguished monarchy?

  Not if thou dost as I would have thee do.

  King. Your words shall be my deeds:

  You speak the image of my thought. My friend

  (If Kings can have a friend, I call thee so),

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  Beyond the large commission which [belongs]

  Under the great seal of the realm, take this:

  And, for some obvious reasons, let there be

  No seal on it, except my kingly word

  And honour as I am a gentleman.

  195

  Be—as thou art within my heart and mind—

  Another self, here and in Ireland:

  Do what thou judgest well, take amplest licence,

  And stick not even at questionable means.

  Hear me, Wentworth. My word is as a wall

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  Between thee and this world thine enemy—

  That hates thee, for thou lovest me.

  Strafford. I own

  No friend but thee, no enemies but thine:

  Thy lightest thought is my eternal law.

  How weak, how short, is life to pay—–

  King. Peace, peace.

  Thou ow’st me nothing yet.

  205

  (To LAUD.) My lord, what say

  Those papers?

  Laud. Your Majesty has ever interposed,

  In lenity towards your native soil,

  Between the heavy vengeance of the Church

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  And Scotland. Mark the consequence of warming

  This brood of northern vipers in your bosom.

  The rabble, instructed no doubt

  By Loudon, Lindsay, Hume, and false Argyll

  (For the waves never menace heaven until

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  Scourged by the wind’s invisible tyranny),

  Have in the very temple of the Lord

  Done outrage to His chosen ministers.

  They scorn the liturgy of the Holy Church,

  Refuse to obey her canons, and deny

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  The apostolic power with which the Spirit

  Has filled its elect vessels, even from him

  Who held the keys with power to loose and bind,

  To him who now pleads in this royal presence.—

  Let ample powers and new instructions be

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  Sent to the High Commissioners in Scotland.

  To death, imprisonment, and confiscation,

  Add torture, add the ruin of the kindred

  Of the offender, add the brand of infamy,

  Add mutilation: and if this suffice not,

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  Unleash the sword and fire, that in their thirst

  They may lick up that scum of schismatics.

  I laugh at those weak rebels who, desiring

  What we possess, still prate of Christian peace,

  As if those dreadful arbitrating messengers

  235

  Which play the part of God ’twixt right and wrong,

  Should be let loose against the innocent sleep

  Of templed cities and the smiling fields,

  For some poor argument of policy

  Which touches our own profit or our pride

  240

  (Where it indeed were Christian charity

  To turn the cheek even to the smiter’s hand);

  And, when our great Redeemer, when our God,

  When He who gave, accepted, and retained

  Himself in propitiation of our sins,

  245

  Is scorned in His immediate ministry,

  With hazard of the inestimable loss

  Of all the truth and discipline which is

  Salvation to the extremest generation

  Of men innumerable, they talk of peace!

  250

  Such peace as Canaan found, let Scotland now;

  For, by that Christ who came to bring a sword,

  Not peace, upon the earth, and gave command

  To His disciples at the Passover

  That each should sell his robe and buy a sword,—

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  Once strip that minister of naked wrath,

  And it shall never sleep in peace again

  Till Scotland bend or break.

  King. My Lord Archbishop,

  Do what thou wilt and what thou canst in this.

  Thy earthly even as thy heavenly King

  260

  Gives thee large power in his unquiet realm.

  But we want money, and my mind misgives me

  That for so great an enterprise, as yet,

  We are unfurnished.

  Strafford. Yet it may not long

  Rest on our wills.

  Cottington. The expenses

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  Of gathering shipmoney, and of distraining

  For every petty rate (for we encounter

  A desperate opposition inch by inch

  In every warehouse and on every farm),

  Have swallowed up the gross sum of the imposts;

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  So that, though felt as a most grievous scourge

  Upon the land, they stand us in small stead

  As touches the receipt.

  Strafford. ’Tis a conclusion

  Most arithmetical: and thence you infer

  Perhaps the assembling of a parliament.

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  Now, if a man should call his dearest enemies

  To sit in licensed judgement on his life,

  His Majesty might wisely take that course.

  [Aside to COTTINGTON.

  It is enough to expect from these lean imposts

  That they perform the office of a scourge,

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  Without more profit. (Aloud.) Fines and confiscations,

  And a forced loan from the refractory city,

  Will fill our coffers: and the golden love

  Of loyal gentlemen and noble friends

  For the worshipped father of our common country,

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  With contributions from the catholics,

  Will make Rebellion pale in our excess.

  Be these the expedients until time and wisdom

  Shall frame a settled state of government.

  Laud. And weak expedients they! Have we not drained

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  All, till the which seemed

  A mine exhaustless?

  Strafford. And the love which is,

  If loyal hearts could turn their blood to gold.

  Laud. Both now grow barren: and I speak it not

  As loving parliaments, which, as they have been

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  In the right hand of bold bad mighty kings

  The scourges of the bleeding Church, I hate.

  Methinks they scarcely can deserve our fear.

  Strafford. Oh! my dear liege, take back the wealth thou gavest:

  With that, take all I held, but as in trust

  300

  For thee, of mine inheritance: leave me but

  This unprovided body for thy service,

  And a mind dedicated to no care

  Except thy safety:—but assemble not

  A parliament. Hundreds will bring, like me,

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  Their fortunes, as they would their blood, before—–

  King. No! thou who judgest them art but one. Alas!

  We should be too much out of love with Heaven,

  Did this vile world show many such as thee,

  Thou perfect, just, and honourable man!

  310

  Neve
r shall it be said that Charles of England

  Stripped those he loved for fear of those he scorns;

  Nor will he so much misbecome his throne

  As to impoverish those who most adorn

  And best defend it. That you urge, dear Strafford,

  Inclines me rather—

  315

  Queen. To a parliament?

  Is this thy firmness? and thou wilt preside

  Over a knot of censurers,

  To the unswearing of thy best resolves,

  And choose the worst, when the worst comes too soon?

  320

  Plight not the worst before the worst must come.

  Oh, wilt thou smile whilst our ribald foes,

  Dressed in their own usurped authority,

  Sharpen their tongues on Henrietta’s fame?

  It is enough! Thou lovest me no more!

  [Weeps.

  King. Oh, Henrietta!

  [They talk apart.

  325

  Cottington (to LAUD). Money we have none:

  And all the expedients of my Lord of Strafford

  Will scarcely meet the arrears.

  Laud. Without delay

  An army must be sent into the north;

  Followed by a Commission of the Church,

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  With amplest power to quench in fire and blood,

  And tears and terror, and the pity of hell,

  The intenser wrath of Heresy. God will give

  Victory; and victory over Scotland give

  The lion England tamed into our hands.

  That will lend power, and power bring gold.