_Straf._ So be it! And if an army follows me? _Vane._ His friends Will entertain your army! _Pym._ I' ll not say You have misreckoned, Strafford: time shows. Perish Body and spirit! Fool to feign a doubt, Pretend the scrupulous and nice reserve Of one whose prowess shall achieve the feat! What share have I in it? Do I affect To see no dismal sign above your head When God suspends his ruinous thunder there? Strafford is doomed. Touch him no one of you! [PYM, HAMPDEN, _etc., go out._ _Straf._ Pym, we shall meet again! (Lady CARLISLE _enters._) You here, child? _Lady Car._ Hush-- I know it all: hush, Strafford! _Straf._ Ah! you know? Well. I shall make a sorry soldier, Lucy! All knights begin their enterprise, we read, Under the best of auspices; 't is morn, The Lady girds his sword upon the Youth (He' s always very young)--the trumpets sound, Cups pledge him, and, why, the King blesses him-- You need not turn a page of the romance To learn the Dreadful Giant's fate. Indeed, We' ve the fair Lady here; but she apart,-- A poor man, rarely having handled lance, And rather old, weary, and far from sure His Squires are not the Giant's friends. All' s one: Let us go forth! _Lady Car._ Go forth? _Straf._ What matters it? We shall die gloriously--as the book says. _Lady Car._ To Scotland? not to Scotland? _Straf._ Am I sick Like your good brother, brave Northumberland? Beside, these walls seem falling on me. _Lady Car._ Strafford, The wind that saps these walls can undermine Your camp in Scotland, too. Whence creeps the wind? Have you no eyes except for Pym? Look here! A breed of silken creatures lurk and thrive In your contempt. You' ll vanquish Pym? Old Vane Can vanquish you. And Vane you think to fly? Rush on the Scots! Do nobly! Vane's slight sneer Shall test success, adjust the praise, suggest The faint result: Vane's sneer shall reach you there. --You do not listen! _Straf._ Oh,--I give that up! There' s fate in it: I give all here quite up. Care not what old Vane does or Holland does Against me! 'T is so idle to withstand! In no case tell me what they do! _Lady Car._ But, Strafford ... _Straf._ I want a little strife, beside; real strife; This petty palace-warfare does me harm: I shall feel better, fairly out of it. _Lady Car._ Why do you smile?