Reviews

R370527A.  Strafford.

The Court Journal, 27 May 1837, pp. 329–330.

As reprinted in The Brownings’ Correspondence, 3, 406–407.

Covent Garden—We are glad to perceive that Mr Browning’s tragedy of Strafford is to be played again on Tuesday, in which the part of Pym, lately represented by Vandenhoff, will be supported by Elton. It gives us great pleasure to find that a drama of so high an order as this will not be withdrawn from the enjoyment of the public, in consequence of arrangements dependent on the mere cast of its characters. Our notice of Strafford, on a former occasion, was, from want of space, necessarily a brief one, and our readers will, we doubt not, welcome our return to it again in the following extract, in which Strafford’s confidence in the King’s honour, his impatience of confinement, his unwillingness to believe the fate which is announced to him, and the bitter apostrophewith which he resigns himself to death, are marked with extreme beauty and truth:—

 

Hollis. The King—I bear

His message, Strafford—pray you, let me speak!

Strafford. Go, William! Anne, try o’er your song again!

(The children retire.)

They shall be loyal, friend, at all events.

I know your message: you have nothing new

To tell me: from the first I guessed as much.

I know, instead of coming here at once——

Leading me forth before them by the hand,—

I know the King will leave the door ajar

As though I were escaping—let me fly

While the mob gapes upon some show prepared

On the other side of the river!

Hollis. (To his companion.) Tell him all;

I knew my throat would thicken thus—Speak you!

Strafford. ’Tis all one—I forgive him. Let me have

The order of release!

——I’ve heard, as well,

Of certain poor manœuvrings to avoid

The granting pardon at his proper risk;

First, he must prattle somewhat to the Lords—

Must talk a trifle to the Commons first—

Be grieved I should abuse his confidence,

And far from blaming them, and—

——Where’s the order?

Hollis. Spare me!

Strafford. Why—he’d not have me steal away?

—With an old doublet and a steeple hat

Like Prynne’s? Be smuggled into France, perhaps?

Hollis, ’tis for my children! ’Twas for them

I e’er consented to stand day by day

And give those Puritans the best of words—

Be patient—speak when called upon—observe

Their rules,—and not give all of them the lie!

Hollis. No, Strafford—no escape—no—dearest Strafford!

Strafford. What’s in that boy of mine that he should be

Son to a prison-breaker? I shall stay

And he’ll stay with me. Charles should know as much—

He too has children!

(Turning to Hollis’s companion.) Ah! you feel for me! [p. 330→]

No need to hide that face! Though it have looked

Upon me from the judgment-seat—I know

Strangely, that somewhere it has looked on me—

Still there is One who does not come—there’s One

That shut out Heaven from me——

Hollis. Think on it then!

On Heaven—and calmly—as one—as one to die!

Strafford. Die? True, friend, all must die, and all must need

Forgiveness: I forgive him from my soul.

Hollis. Be constant, now—be grand and brave—be now

Just as when——Oh, I cannot stay for words——

’Tis a world’s wonder—but—but—you must die!

Strafford. Sir, if your errand is to set me free

This heartless jest will——

Hollis—you turn white,

And your lip shivers!—What if——

Oh, we’ll end,

We’ll end this! See this paper—warm—feel—warm

With lying next my heart? Whose hand is there?

Whose promise? Read! Read loud! For God to hear!

“Strafford shall take no hurt”—read it, I say!

“In person, honour, nor estate”——

Hollis. The King——

Strafford. I could unking him by a breath! You sit

Where Loudon sate—Loudon, who came to tell

The certain end, and offer me Pym’s pardon

If I’d forsake the King—and I stood firm

On my King’s faith! The King who lived——

Hollis. To sign

The warrant for your death.

Strafford. “Put not your trust

In Princes, neither in the sons of men,

In whom is no salvation!”

Reviewed:

Strafford (RB), London: Longman, Rees, Orme, Brown, Green, 1837.

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