_Vane._ There are some little signs of late she knows The ground no place for her. She glances round, Wentworth has dropped the hand, is gone his way On other service: what if she arise? No! the King beckons, and beside him stands The same bad man once more, with the same smile And the same gesture. Now shall England crouch, Or catch at us and rise? _Voices._ The Renegade! Haman! Ahithophel! _Hamp._ Gentlemen of the North, It was not thus the night your claims were urged, And we pronounced the League and Covenant, The cause of Scotland, England's cause as well: Vane there, sat motionless the whole night through. _Vane._ Hampden! _Fien._ Stay, Vane! _Loudon._ Be just and patient, Vane! _Vane._ Mind how you counsel patience, Loudon! you Have still a Parliament, and this your League To back it; you are free in Scotland still: While we are brothers, hope 's for England yet. But know you wherefore Wentworth comes? to quench This last of hopes? that he brings war with him? Know you the man's self? what he dares? _Lou._ We know, All know--'t is nothing new. _Vane._ And what 's new, then, In calling for his life? Why, Pym himself-- You must have heard--ere Wentworth dropped our cause He would see Pym first; there were many more Strong on the people's side and friends of his, Eliot that 's dead, Rudyard and Hampden here, But for these Wentworth cared not; only, Pym He would see--Pym and he were sworn, 't is said, To live and die together; so, they met At Greenwich. Wentworth, you are sure, was long, Specious enough, the devil's argument Lost nothing on his lips; he 'd have Pym own A patriot could not play a purer part Than follow in his track; they two combined Might put down England. Well, Pym heard him out; One glance--you know Pym's eye--one word was all: "You leave us, Wentworth! while your head is on, I 'll not leave you." _Hamp._ Has he left Wentworth, then? Has England lost him? Will you let him speak, Or put your crude surmises in his mouth? Away with this! Will you have Pym or Vane? _Voices._ Wait Pym's arrival! Pym shall speak. _Hamp._ Meanwhile Let Loudon read the Parliament's report From Edinburgh: our last hope, as Vane says, Is in the stand it makes. Loudon! _Vane._ No, no! Silent I can be: not indifferent! _Hamp._ Then each keep silence, praying God to spare His anger, cast not England quite away In this her visitation! _A Puritan._ Seven years long The Midianite drove Israel into dens And caves. Till God sent forth a mighty man, (PYM _enters._) Even Gideon!