_Straf._ I got to fear them, child! I could have torn his throat at first, old Vane's, As he leered at me on his stealthy way To the Queen's closet. Lord, one loses heart! I often found it on my lips to say, "Do not traduce me to her!" _Lady Car._ But the King ... _Straf._ The King stood there, 't is not so long ago, --There; and the whisper, Lucy, "Be my friend Of friends!"--My King! I would have ... _Lady Car._ ... Died for him? _Straf._ Sworn him true, Lucy: I can die for him. _Lady Car._ But go not, Strafford! But you must renounce This project on the Scots! Die, wherefore die? Charles never loved you. _Straf._ And he never will. He' s not of those who care the more for men That they 're unfortunate. _Lady Car._ Then wherefore die For such a master? _Straf._ You that told me first How good he was--when I must leave true friends To find a truer friend!--that drew me here From Ireland,--"I had but to show myself, And Charles would spurn Vane, Savile, and the rest"-- You, child, to ask me this? _Lady Car._ (If he have set His heart abidingly on Charles!) Then, friend, I shall not see you any more. _Straf._ Yes, Lucy. There 's one man here I have to meet. _Lady Car._ (The King! What way to save him from the King? My soul-- That lent from its own store the charmed disguise Which clothes the King--he shall behold my soul!) Strafford,--I shall speak best if you 'll not gaze Upon me: I had never thought, indeed, To speak, but you would perish too, so sure! Could you but know what 't is to bear, my friend, One image stamped within you, turning blank The else imperial brilliance of your mind,-- A weakness, but most precious,--like a flaw I' the diamond, which should shape forth some sweet face Yet to create, and meanwhile treasured there Let nature lose her gracious thought forever! _Straf._ When could it be? no! Yet ... was it the day We waited in the anteroom, till Holland Should leave the presence-chamber? _Lady Car._ What? _Straf._ --That I Described to you my love for Charles? _Lady Car._ (Ah, no-- One must not lure him from a love like that! Oh, let him love the King and die! 'T is past. I shall not serve him worse for that one brief And passionate hope, silent forever now!) And you are really bound for Scotland then? I wish you well: you must be very sure Of the King's faith, for Pym and all his crew Will not be idle--setting Vane aside! _Straf._ If Pym is busy,--you may write of Pym.