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STRAFFORD: An Historical Tragedy
STRAFFORD: An Historical Tragedy
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This ebook edition has been proofed and corrected and compiled to be read with without errors!
***
PREFACE.
I had for some time been engaged in a Poem of a very different nature, when induced to make the present attempt; and am not without apprehension that my eagerness to freshen a jaded mind by diverting it to the healthy natures of a grand epoch, may have operated unfavourably on the represented play, which is one of Action in Character rather than Character in Action. To remedy this, in some degree, considerable curtailment will be necessary, and, in a few instances, the supplying details not required, I suppose, by the mere reader. While a trifling success would much gratify, failure will not wholly discourage me from another effort: experience is to come, and earnest endeavour may yet remove many disadvantages.
The portraits are, I think, faithful; and I am exceedingly fortunate in being able, in proof of this, to refer to the subtle and eloquent exposition of the characters of Eliot and Strafford, in the Lives of Eminent British Statesmen now in the course of publication in Lardner's Cyclopædia, by a writer whom I am proud to call my friend; and whose biographies of Hampden, Pym, and Vane, will, I am sure, fitly illustrate the present year—the Second Centenary of the Trial concerning Ship-Money. My Carlisle, however, is purely imaginary: I at first sketched her singular likeness roughly in, as suggested by Matthew and the memoir-writers—but it was too artificial, and the substituted outline is exclusively from Voiture and Waller.
The Italian boat-song in the last scene is from Redi's Bacco, long since naturalized in the joyous and delicate version of Leigh Hunt.
***
An excerpt from the beginning of:
ACT I.
SCENE I.—A House near Whitehall.
Hampden, Hollis, the younger Vane, Rudyard, Fiennes, and many of the Presbyterian Party: Loudon and other Scots Commissioners: some seated, some standing beside a table strewn over with papers, &c.
VANE.
I say, if he be here . . .
RUDYARD.
And he is here!
HOLLIS.
For England's sake let every man be still
Nor speak of him, so much as say his name,
Till Pym rejoin us! Rudyard—Vane—remember
One rash conclusion may decide our course
And with it England's fate—think—England's fate!
Hampden, for England's sake they should be still!
VANE.
You say so, Hollis? well, I must be still!
It is indeed too bitter that one man—
Any one man . . .
RUDYARD.
You are his brother, Hollis!
HAMPDEN.
Shame on you, Rudyard! time to tell him that,
When he forgets the Mother of us all.
RUDYARD.
Do I forget her? . .
HAMPDEN.
—You talk idle hate
Against her foe: is that so strange a thing?
Is hating Wentworth all the help she needs?
A PURITAN.
The Philistine strode, cursing as he went:
But David—five smooth pebbles from the brook
Within his scrip . . .
RUDYARD.
—Be you as still as David!
***
PREFACE.
I had for some time been engaged in a Poem of a very different nature, when induced to make the present attempt; and am not without apprehension that my eagerness to freshen a jaded mind by diverting it to the healthy natures of a grand epoch, may have operated unfavourably on the represented play, which is one of Action in Character rather than Character in Action. To remedy this, in some degree, considerable curtailment will be necessary, and, in a few instances, the supplying details not required, I suppose, by the mere reader. While a trifling success would much gratify, failure will not wholly discourage me from another effort: experience is to come, and earnest endeavour may yet remove many disadvantages.
The portraits are, I think, faithful; and I am exceedingly fortunate in being able, in proof of this, to refer to the subtle and eloquent exposition of the characters of Eliot and Strafford, in the Lives of Eminent British Statesmen now in the course of publication in Lardner's Cyclopædia, by a writer whom I am proud to call my friend; and whose biographies of Hampden, Pym, and Vane, will, I am sure, fitly illustrate the present year—the Second Centenary of the Trial concerning Ship-Money. My Carlisle, however, is purely imaginary: I at first sketched her singular likeness roughly in, as suggested by Matthew and the memoir-writers—but it was too artificial, and the substituted outline is exclusively from Voiture and Waller.
The Italian boat-song in the last scene is from Redi's Bacco, long since naturalized in the joyous and delicate version of Leigh Hunt.
***
An excerpt from the beginning of:
ACT I.
SCENE I.—A House near Whitehall.
Hampden, Hollis, the younger Vane, Rudyard, Fiennes, and many of the Presbyterian Party: Loudon and other Scots Commissioners: some seated, some standing beside a table strewn over with papers, &c.
VANE.
I say, if he be here . . .
RUDYARD.
And he is here!
HOLLIS.
For England's sake let every man be still
Nor speak of him, so much as say his name,
Till Pym rejoin us! Rudyard—Vane—remember
One rash conclusion may decide our course
And with it England's fate—think—England's fate!
Hampden, for England's sake they should be still!
VANE.
You say so, Hollis? well, I must be still!
It is indeed too bitter that one man—
Any one man . . .
RUDYARD.
You are his brother, Hollis!
HAMPDEN.
Shame on you, Rudyard! time to tell him that,
When he forgets the Mother of us all.
RUDYARD.
Do I forget her? . .
HAMPDEN.
—You talk idle hate
Against her foe: is that so strange a thing?
Is hating Wentworth all the help she needs?
A PURITAN.
The Philistine strode, cursing as he went:
But David—five smooth pebbles from the brook
Within his scrip . . .
RUDYARD.
—Be you as still as David!
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