ACT II.
SCENE I.
[2nd Grooves.]
A large Barn with folding doors. In it a number of Cavaliers drinking at various rude tables. Some women are interspersed among them. Many are playing at dice, &c. Their arms are piled in a corner.
1st Cav. [Sings]
Noll's red nose,
In a bumper here goes
To Beelzebub his own master;
With the pikes at his flank
Of our foremost rank,
And the devil to find him plaster,
Fairfax and Harrison,
On them our malison.
But drink and sing
A health to the KING—
Gentlemen! steady,
Fill, now be ready.
All. He shall have his own again!
[Shouting and huzzaing.]
A Cav. A toast! gentlemen. "Noll's nose a-fire, and the devil's youngest daughter to baste it with aqua-vitae!"
All. Ha! ha!
A Cav. Would that Goring's moonrakers might come across the snuffling organ and cut it off. We would have it by way of pavillon. Thou, Frank Howard! shouldst carry it as senior cornet. Thou wouldst be like curly-headed David with the spoils of the Philistine drum-major Goliah. Led on by its light we'd march direct to Whitehall, our trumpets sending dismay to the virtue of the starched coifs of the round rosy rogues of London.
A Cav. [Arranging his love-lock.] Plague on't, I don't think their virtue would tremble at the chance.
Anoth. Cav. Lord! what rumpling of sober dimities! Poor little plump partridges, they cannot help their forced puritanism.—But all women are for king and cavalier in their hearts.
[Two Cavaliers advance with angry gestures to the front of the stage.]
1st Cav. I tell thee, Wilmington! 'twas I she did regard.
2nd Cav. And I tell thee that thou thinkest wrong. I know she loves me.
1st Cav. Did she tell thee so?
2nd Cav. This kerchief was hers.
1st Cav. Bah! Thou didst steal it from thy mother, boy! Go home and return it to her.
2nd Cav. Ha!
3rd Cav. Who is this piece of goods—she at the White Dragon?
1st Cav. Nay, a mercer's daughter. Wouldst like the address? She entertaineth well.
2nd Cav. How! 'Tis false!
1st Cav. I met her yestereen, and she said thou shouldst have been a canting Psalmsinger. Thou art so innocent a youth.
2nd Cav. Hell's fire! I'll not bear this. I tell thee she waved her hand to me from her lattice, and dropped this kerchief.
1st Cav. And to me she gave her garter when I left her.
2nd Cav. To hang thyself? Nay, thou liest!
1st Cav. [Strikes him down.] Take that, thou fool!
[He rises, they draw. Closing in of the Cavaliers near, confusion.]
3rd Cav. Hold, gentlemen! 'Tis a mere wanton! I believe these wenches are dowered by old Noll to set our young hot-bloods by the ears. Hold! 'Tis not worth!
[They continue tonight. The 2nd Cavalier is wounded.]
A Cavalier, richly dressed, who has entered, L., in the meanwhile, and made inquiring gestures.
Cav. For whose sake?
O shame! shame!
The King—
The Queen needs all your blood, and ye must shed it
In shameless broils like these!
Thus the dear blood that should, if spilt it be,
Dye our white spotless cause with its rich crimson,
Must now for every muslin thing that spites
Her prentice-lover, making fools of you.
And O ye others, loyal gentlemen!
I weep indeed for England and our King,
To see ye all, in this the perilous gasp
Of hardy enterprize, yourselves forget,
Like Circe's brutish swine. I tell ye now,
While ye are lost in drunken quarrelling,
Cromwell is near.
3rd or 4th Cav. The King shall have his own. Lillibullero!
Cav. I say, thee General Cromwell Is on the road with some four hundred men, And will surprise us. [Confused movement to arm.]
1st Cav. [Who has continued to drink.] Ha! What does it concern thee with thy preaching? Dost thou want ought here? [Touching his sword-hilt.] I care not for thee or Noll. Would he were here, and a matter of four thousand to back him. [Draws.] Sa! sa! canst fight as well as talk? Wilt take up the bilbo? Come, adopt the weapon of him I have sliced. Come, be nimble, sir, jig. I would fain go visit the haulage of my fancy.
[A confused noise without.]
Cav. Too late! O gentlemen! here, Willsden, is thy sword. Varley, arouse thee! The enemy! Away, women! Come, gentlemen—this table—a barricade, so— [1st Cavalier stands in his way.] Off, fool! [Hurls him aside.]
A tremendous explosion; the wide doors behind are burst in by a petard; the barn falls, and discovers a view of York. Enter CROMWELL with IRONSIDES through the break.
Crom. Yield, sons of Belial!
Cav. O Charles, my king! 'Tis time to die, ere see thy cause thus lost!
[Throws himself on the pikemen.]
Here, cavaliers! a blow, one blow, 'tis Noll
The butcher, brewer Noll, that in your songs
Ye send to hell so often. Send him now,
If ye be men, not cowards. What! at loss!
[1st Cavalier staggers against him as he parries two or three pikemen, and he receives a mortal stroke, and falls. During this the other cavaliers are struck down or disarmed.]
Alas! I might have reach'd him, but betray'd
By our own rotten conduct, die—Oh, had I words
Now could I prophesy—destruction—Charles!
My king! [Dies.]
Crom. There is no king save one, and He
Is with us! [Points to 1st Cavalier.]
Yon poor wretch—what saith he?
Nay!
Strike not his mouth.
1st Cav. I defy thee, Satan! I'll back my rapier, an' thou wilt fight, Brewer! Curse on thy muddy veins, thou hast no honourable desperation in thee. Come, if thou beest a man, give up thy odds. What, ho! Excalibur!
[Makes a rush to get at CROMWELL]
Crom. It seemeth that
The ungodly fret. Go, place him in the stocks.
I charge ye harm him not—
But give him ale,
Wine, and a scurvy song-book—Such as he
Do make us triumph. Fie, fie, Cornet Dean!
Well, stop his mouth, an't please ye; come, away!
[Trumpets sound.]
This is a gift of God, see burial
Unto the dead—now on to Marston Moor.
[Exeunt U.E.R.]
[Enter WILLIAM, U.E.L.]
Will. So my master hath at last turned roundhead with a vengeance, and therefore I, to whom the rogue is necessary, am here, on the brink of nowhere. To think that so much merit may be quenched by the mechanical art of a base gunner, who hath no fear in his actions; for I take it that a discreet reverence for the body we live in, which the vulgar term fear, shows the best proof of the value of the individual. Egad! life here is as cheap as the grass on an empty common, where there is no democracy of goose to hiss at the kingly shadow of a single ass in God's sunshine. My master hath not done well; for he must have known that I could not leave him without a moral guide and companion—to die, too, with the sin of my unpaid wages on his conscience. Well, pray heaven, there come soon a partition of the crown jewels amongst us, after which I will withdraw this right arm from a cause I cannot approve; but to cherish principles one should not lack means; therefore, [taking the feather from his cap and throwing it down] lie thou there, carnal device! and I will go look for a barber and be despoiled, like a topsy-turvy Samson, not to lose strength, but to gain it. I thank heaven that our camp did yesterday fall in dry places, for there were many of these sour-visaged soldiers called me Jonah, and I did well to escape ducking in a horse-pond. Soft, here be some of them coming. Yestere'en I committed sacrilege in a knapsack, and stole a small Bible from amid great plunder for my salvation. Now will I feign to read it, and I doubt not the sin will be pardoned, for self-preservation is the second law of nature, as I have generally observed fornication to be the first!
Enter a party of Soldiers, R.
[Looking up.] These be some of Oliver's Ironsides; every one of whom is, as David, a man of war and a prophet; truly they are more earnest and sober than the others.
1st Troop. To-morrow we shall sup in York.
Will. [Aside.] How the man of war identifies himself with the remnant of those that shall sup.
2nd Troop. Not so—for this morning, when a surrender was demanded, they would have hanged our messenger. That raging Beelzebub, Rupert, in expected hourly to the relief. [Distant firing.] There! there! he is come.
1st Troop. What say the generals?
2nd Troop. Our own Cromwell is very prompt; but the rest chafe much, and the Scots are sore backsliders.
3rd Troop. I would we might be led on and the trumpets sounded, that the walls of yon Jericho might fall about their ears, and deliver them into our hands alive.
Will. Worthy martialist! may I speak?
1st Troop. Ay so?
Will. Is the King there in person?
2nd Troop. Surely not; he is in that city of abomination, Oxford.
[Here CROMWELL enters, U.E.R., with his face covered.]
Will. Is it not true that ye did ask them that guard the city to yield it in the King's name?
2nd Troop. I heard the message: it was so worded.
Will. 'Tis an excellent contradiction, to fight for and against. If ye should meet the King now in battle, would you fire on him with your pistols, or cleave him with your swords?
1st Troop. Nay!
Crom. [Discovering himself.] But I say, yea!
Will. [Without seeing CROMWELL.] What, in his own name, kill him for himself, for his own sake, as it were? I would fain argue that with your general—[sees CROMWELL.]—another time. Farewell, worthy sirs!
Crom. Stay, thou base knave! I'll have thee whipped without
The army of the saints. Hearken ye all!
Charles Stuart I would gladly smite to death:
Not as a king, but as a man that fights
Against the honour, conscience of the king,
And the true rights of all his loving subjects.
Is any here the muscles of whose arm
Grow slack to think he may meet such an one
In arms to-morrow? Let him home to-day,
God and his country have no need of him.
Soldiers. A Cromwell! Cromwell! Lead on, we'll slay the king.
Crom. I did but say If ye should meet him, ye would not turn back.
Soldiers. No! No!
Crom. Nor slur the onset?
Soldiers. No!
Crom. Nor spare A courtier for his likeness to the King?
Soldiers. No! No!
Crom. Why then ye are mine own, [observing the soldiers.]
My brave and trusty Ironsides! See here
Are some right honest faces I have known
From childhood, and they'll follow me to death,
If needed.—Let the paltry Scot go hence,
And even Fairfax rein his charger back—
We'll on unto the breach. The Lord Himself
Will ride in thunder with our mail-clad host:
The proudest head that ever wore a crown
Shall not withstand us.—Strike! and spare not! Ho!
Down with the curs'd of God!
Soldiers. A Cromwell! Cromwell! Let us come on!
Crom. The sun that stood in Heaven, Until his beams grew red with two days' blood Of slaughtered Canaan, shall see them flee like chaff before us—
Soldiers. Joshua! cry aloud, A Joshua!—
Crom. These gay Philistine lords That fight for Dagon, will ye fly them, or Hurl them and Dagon down?—
Soldiers. A Samson! Samson!
[Distant cannon heard. Cheering from the Soldiers.]
Will. [Aside.] Here's gory enthusiasm! Now whilst every man is ready to preach individually on his own account, and the whole collectively are about to sing a psalm, I will endeavour to steal away unperceived, lest any of them, imagining himself somewhere between Deuteronomy and Kings, should take it upon himself to proclaim that I come from Gibeon, and so—
Crom. [To William.] Hither! sirrah! It is well I know the master that thou servest, or else thy back had paid the license of thy speech. Tell him I would speak with him two hours hence in his own quarters. [Exit William, U.E.L.] Good friend, [to a soldier] I am thirsty in the flesh. Get me, I prithee, a cup of thine ale. [Soldier goes out.] [To another soldier.] Give me thy pipe, Ruxton! is it right Trinidado?—[To them all.] Think ye now, the generals fare better than ye do—I mean now, Desborough or Rossiter, or our brave Ireton?
A Soldier. Ay! do they. But just now we saw a store of good things carried into Desborough's tent. Lo! there goes Jepherson and Fight-the-good-Fight Egerton this instant to feast on the fat things of the earth. [Here the soldier gives him a cup of ale.]
Crom. [Pausing ere he drinks.] What is thy name, friend?
A Soldier. [Near.] Born-again Rumford.
Crom. A babe, I do protest, a babe of grace. See you not, he cannot speak himself. [Drinks, and throws the remainder over Born-again Rumford's beard. Returns the cup and prepares his pipe.] Now, Born-again! I think thou art baptized again! [The soldiers laugh.] So there is feasting and gluttony amongst our captains. Hearken ye, I shall call a conference straightway. When the generals be come, which they will do with sore grumbling, then do ye fall to and spare not! I will stand between you and the fierce wrath of them that be spoiled. Three rolls on the kettledrum shall be the signal. See that ye leave nothing. [Going, L.]
[As he goes he strikes his pipe on the back of the corslet of one of the soldiers; so that the ashes fall on his neck.]
Sol. Now may the devil!
Crom. Ho! swearest thou?—fy! fy! for shame, Orderly officer! set Hezekiah Sin-Despise down in thy book five shillings for an oath. Truly Sin-Despise is no fitting name for thee, but rather 'Overcome-by-Sin.' Come, as I did tempt thy railing, I will pay thy fine. [Gives him money.] Tush! grin not so, man. I thought my Ironsides were proof against fire as well as steel. [Exit, L.]
Shouts of the Soldiers. Live, Cromwell! live, our worthy general!
[WILLIAM re-enters and joins the Soldiers. Exeunt, B.]
Enter ARTHUR reading a letter, U.E.L.
"——and so, cousin, I am very miserable, and if you have this influence with the General Cromwell, whose fair daughter I do so well remember, get me a home with her; for, alas! I can stay no longer here. And yet my father? But to wed with one that I despise, it is impossible, and all things are prepared, I look to you alone for rescue. Farewell. Florence."
I will! I will "Postscript. I hear you are engaged in these dreadful wars. Pray heaven! you have chosen aright; for I know not. But peril not your life more than becomes true valour; for I have heard you are dear to many. Adieu!" I dear to many?—let's see, there is my faithful serving-man—poor fellow, he likes not this life, and doth assume an amusing kind of fear, but I do believe thinking more of me than himself. Well then; I had a dog; but he was lost the night of our passage, when but for his inveterate barking, for which I beat him, I had surely been drowned in the cabin, where I slept, when the vessel was stranded—he loved me; but for more—I know them not.
O dearest Florence! were I lov'd indeed by thee,
There were indeed a bright star in the sky,
To guide my shatter'd bark of destiny! [Retires, U.R.]
Enter CROMWELL, IRETON, DESBOROUGH, and others, U.E.L., ARTHUR joins them.
Crom. Thus, gentlemen, the reports being ended, I would but detain you a short while in prayer.
Des. Nay! as I said before, we are fatigued, and the body needs refreshment.
Ire. [Apart to Cromwell.] How the pampered boar frets!
Crom. [To Desborough.] Will you to my tent?—I can give you a soldier's fare, with a soldier's welcome, a crust and cup of ale, and we can discourse what remains.
An Officer. Indeed we are engaged; but if the General Cromwell would honour us—
Crom. I thank you, I have supped ere you have dined.
[Drum rolls. A loud shout of merriment and clatter is heard.]
Des. What is that—in my tent too!
[Looking off, R. WILLIAM comes forward, R.]
By Heaven! rank mutiny. I'll have them shot.
Will. Nay! worthy sir, knock out the priming of your wrath from the matchlock of your vengeance, and abide till to-morrow, when you shall see many a stout fellow and gormandizer to boot levelled. [To Cromwell.] Great Sir! they complain that the wine is thin.
Crom. Go purchase some strong waters. [Gives him money.] I must not have my fellows' stomachs unsettled. Here, thou graceless knave.
Will. An't please you, we had no time for grace; but we return thanks to you, under Heaven.
Des. This then is your work, General Cromwell! Call you this discipline?
Crom. [To the Soldiers as they enter, R.] Go hence, you rascals.
[Soldiers entering with whooping and shouts.]
Sound bugles! fall in! quick march!
[The Soldiers march round and fall in a line in perfect order, WILLIAM bringing up the rear, shouldering a bone.]
Ire. [To Arthur Walton.] See you now the bent of this? How he doth make them his own? I tell you that the day will come, this host shall follow him alone, ay! and perchance England—
Crom. [To Desborough, who has remained apart, indignant.] Come, Desborough! if thou hast digested thine indignation—[Taking Desborough's arm, kindly.]
Ire. As he will never his dinner.
Crom. Thou wilt unto my tent, where is store of wholesome food.
Enter HARRISON, L., hurriedly.
Har. I fear they will not sally forth; our host Meanwhile will melt away. Despondency Sits heavy on my soul.
[Firing is heard from the town.]
Ire. If they abide In York, we'd best draw off. [Exit ARTHUR, L.]
Crom. But Rupert! Rupert!
Wilt he not fight—The fiery-headed fool
Will rush out on us from yon fenced town,
And then—Whom have we here?
[An Orderly hastens in.]
Ord. The earl doth bid you Prepare for instant action; Rupert and Newcastle Are forth outside the gates.
Crom. Said I not so?— Their hearts are hardened by the Lord of hosts. [Musketry in the distance.] [To an officer entering.] Did you not hear me when I said "Bring up the fascines?" How shall we cross the ditch? Do you not heed? Quick, man!
Offi. Even as Balaam said to Balak, Lo! I will but speak what the Lord hath put in my mouth. [Turning to the Soldiers.] Wherefore, I say, O brethren, be ye as they the Lord set apart to Gideon—
Crom. [Striking him with his pistol butt.] Take that, thou babbling fool! this is no fitting time to preach. Ho! Jepherson. Bring up the facines.
Enter ARTHUR, L., to CROMWELL.
Arth. Fairfax is beaten, and our right wing scattered.
Crom. Hist! dismay not these. Doth Rupert follow them?
Arth. He doth fight fiercely.
Crow. Then will I meet him. Victor to victor, we will close together. Ho! forward!
[Another Officer enters.]
Offi. The musketry of Belial hath mowed our ranks, and the sons of Zeruiah—
Crom. Tush, tell me not of Zeruiah, or, by the Eternal, I will smite thee! Speak in English.
Offi. The Scotch are in disorder. Lucas, and Porter, and the malignant Goring are playing havoc with them. Newcastle, with his white coats, is winning on us at the pike's point.
Crom. That's what is done. What is to do? What says the General?
Offi. That you charge Rupert.
Crom. Why did you not speak sooner?
I am dead
To hear you drawl thus. Righteous Lambert, on!
Bring up the regiments.
Tell brave Frizell,
He shall see sport anon—
[A Soldier gives him his morion.]
I will not wear it!
I cannot see around—
[A heavy discharge of cannon heard without.]
Ho! Desborough,
Here is a dinner for thee. See thou carve it
Right well. On! on! a Cromwell for a Rupert!
Soldiers. The Lord and Cromwell!
Crom. Nay, not thus: shout rather "God and his people! England! Liberty!"
[Exeunt L.]
[Different parties of wounded Soldiers enter U.E.L; some being assisted, and others staggering; the scene becomes dark and obscured with clouds of smoke. Several Soldiers fall down.]
[Enter WILLIAM, R., meeting a wounded Trooper, L.]
Troop. How goes the day? Why art thou not with the saints, that are now fighting?
Will. I was about to fight; but they waited not for me. It is all over now. The king hath no more chance than a butterfly three days at sea amongst a covey of Mother Carey's chickens. I would pursue, but lack spurs and a horse, or you should not find me here; [Aside.] or within ten miles of it.
Troop. Get me some water, friend!
Will. Ah! you would have watered me in a pond two days since; but here—this is better than water.
[The Soldier takes a flask from him.]
Troop. I think thou saidst that the malignants were smitten. Praised be the Lord! Yet I would I had not seen my father's white hairs amid yon accursed red coats. I parried a stroke from him that must have jarred the old man's arm.
[Falls back exhausted.]
Will. An' this be not a lesson! I have no father that is a malignant, and could therefore only undergo simple murder. However, [touching the hilt of his sword] rest thou there! in Mercy's hallowed name—nay more, as rashness is animal, so a due timidity is soul, which is mind, and I have a great mind to run away, and mind being soul, I think I have a greater soul than Alexander.
[A loud discharge of cannon, L.]
Now if it were not for that, this foolish brute, my body, might rush off in that direction, but it don't, for a great mind prevents it, therefore—
[Stage more dark. He runs off in an opposite direction to the shot, R. More wounded enter and fall down, U.E.L.]
Enter an Old Man in the King's uniform, of red coats, L.
Old Man. I thought the day was ours. The headlong Rupert
Swept all before him, like the wind that bends
The thin and unkind corn, his men were numb
With slaying, and their chargers straddling, blown
With undue speed, as they had hunted that
Which could not turn again—e'en thus was Rupert,
When round to meet his squadrons came a host
Like whirlwind to the wind.
There was a moment that the blood-surge roll'd
Hither and thither, while you saw in the air
Ten thousand bright blades, and as many eyes
Of flame flashed terribly. Then Rupert stay'd
His hot hand in amazement,
And all his blood-stain'd chivalry grew pale:
The hunters, chang'd to quarry, fled amain,
I saw the prince's jet-black, favourite barb
Thrown on her haunches; then away, away,
Her speed did bear him safe. Then there came one,
A grisly man, with head all bare and grey,
That shouted, "Smite and scatter, spare not, ho!
Ye chosen of the Lord!" and they did smite,
As on the anvil; till the plumed helms
Of all our best bent down. Alas! alas!
That I should see this day—-
[Looks about and finds his son.]
What's this, my son!
Wounded? my disobedient child?
I thought of him
But now in charging, as I met a foe
That beat my sword-arm down—had he been there
I had not suffer'd—nay, what colours these?
Against the king?—he is my son; I'll bear
Him off, and win him to his king and me.
[Takes him up, several cross the stage flying. Musketry from L. to R. A shot strikes the Old Man, who falls. Several officers and soldiers enter fighting with swords and firearms.]
CROMWELL enters pursuing, L. to R.
Crom. Strike home! spare none! The father with the son,
That fights for tyranny. [To a Trooper.] Give me thy sword!
Mine own is hack'd with slaying—
Where is Rupert?
The haughty Rupert now?—
Where is this king,
That tempts the God of battles?—Are they gone,
That cost these precious lives?
[Here the sun breaks out in splendour and lights up the battle-ground behind.]
"Let God arise,
And let his enemies be scattered!"