JOHN HAMPDEN. DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. JOHN HAMPDEN. OLIVER CROMWELL. JOHN PYM. SIR HARRY VANE. CHARLES I. KING OF ENGLAND. PRINCE RUPERT. William Laud, Archbishop of Canterbury. THOMAS WENTWORTH, Earl of Strafford. EARLS OF ESSEX, SUNDERLAND, AND LINDSAY. LORDS BROOK, SAY, AND FALKLAND. SIR BEVILL GRENVILLE, SIR JOHN SUCKLING, SIR JOHN ELIOT, SIR RICHARD KNIGHTLEY; SIR ANTHONY VANDYKE, SIR GEORGE CROKE, SIR EDWARD HERBERT, SIR EDMUND VERNEY. SIR WILLIAM BALFOUR, Lieutenant of the Tower. JAMES MAXWELL, Usher of the Black Rod. EDWARD HYDE, OLIVER ST. JOHN, NATHANIEL FIENNES. WILLIAM LENTHALL, Speaker of the House of Commons. COLONEL LUNSFORD. RICHARD GRAINGER, RICHARD GRAINGER the Younger, AND GEORGE ROSCOE, Farmers. WILLIAM HAMPDEN, Son to JOHN HAMPDEN. THOMAS HATFIELD, Servant to HAMPDEN; PHIL KENDALL, Servant to GRAINGER. DR. GILES, DR. Spurstow, Robert Baillie, ALEXANDER HENDERSON, ROBERT BLAIR, AND GEORGE GILLESPIE, Clergymen. WILL CORITON, Friend to HAMPDEN; ARCHY, the King's fool. GAINFORD, COULSTON, SATTERTHWAITE, HODGSON, AND HALLIDAY, Smugglers. HENRIETTA MARIA, Queen of England. COUNTESS OF CARLISLE, COUNTESS OF LEICEster, Lady Grenville, LADY CROKE. ELIZABETH HAMPDEN, Wife to JOHN HAMPDEN; ELIZABETH CROMWELL, Wife to OLIVER CROMWELL. ALICE RENFORTH, Betrothed to HATFIELD. CICELY, JOAN, BESS, AND KATE, Servants to GRAINGER. CITIZENS, GENTLEMEN, SOLDIERS, FARM-SERVANTS, WAITS, ATTENDANTS, ETC. ENGLISH WORK AND SONG. JOHN HAMPDEN. A DRAMA. ACT I. SCENE I.-A Room at Great Hampden. Eliz. Hampden. What spell is this, my husband, which to-night The present and the past. Thine eyes have glowed Flowed out into them; tell me what resolve Thy thoughts have bred and ripened. Hampden. Ah! my wife, The witchcraft that can charm me 's in thy smile; B Of my thought-wearied spirit; sweet soul-searcher ! Didst thou divine the current of my thoughts When fifteen years ago I met thee first At Mrs. Storie's ? Eliz. Hampden. John, I cannot tell. My eyes were dim with joy, I scarce could think The low, rich music of thy voice, the deep, intense Was the tale true, Bess? Has it ever held Eliz. Hampden. Oft has my heart regretted that my youth Hampden. But thy love Love's constant accusation, my dear wife; The true heart ever doth mistrust itself, And its own power, when weighed with what it loves; Lest it be insufficient; quiet thy heart, Thy love is one of those most precious things Which Providence enriches life with; thou art lovelier When I first called thee wife; thy deep affection, Mellowed by time, is sweeter, richer, holier, Which haunts me still. Eliz. Hampden. Hampden. My husband, let me know it! My soul is worn and fevered with the wrong |