_Fien._ I never thought it could have come to this. _Pym._ But I have made myself familiar, Fiennes, With this one thought--have walked, and sat, and slept, This thought before me. I have done such things, Being the chosen man that should destroy The traitor. You have taken up this thought To play with, for a gentle stimulant, To give a dignity to idler life By the dim prospect of emprise to come, But ever with the softening, sure belief, That all would end some strange way right at last. _Fien._ Had we made out some weightier charge! _Pym._ You say That these are petty charges: can we come To the real charge at all? There he is safe In tyranny's stronghold. Apostasy Is not a crime, treachery not a crime: The cheek burns, the blood tingles, when you speak The words, but where 's the power to take revenge Upon them? We must make occasion serve,-- The oversight shall pay for the main sin That mocks us. _Rud._ But this unexampled course, This Bill! _Pym._ By this, we roll the clouds away Of precedent and custom, and at once Bid the great beacon-light God sets in all, The conscience of each bosom, shine upon The guilt of Strafford: each man lay his hand Upon his breast, and judge! _Vane._ I only see Strafford, nor pass his corpse for all beyond! _Rud. and others._ Forgive him! He would join us, now he finds What the King counts reward! The pardon, too, Should be your own. Yourself should bear to Strafford The pardon of the Commons. _Pym._ Meet him? Strafford? Have we to meet once more, then? Be it so! And yet--the prophecy seemed half fulfilled When, at the Trial, as he gazed, my youth, Our friendship, divers thoughts came back at once And left me, for a time ... 'Tis very sad! To-morrow we discuss the points of law With Lane--to-morrow? _Vane._ Not before to-morrow-- So, time enough! I knew you would relent! _Pym._ The next day, Haselrig, you introduce The Bill of his Attainder. Pray for me! SCENE III. _Whitehall._ _The_ KING. _Cha._ My loyal servant! To defend himself Thus irresistibly,--withholding aught That seemed to implicate us! We have done Less gallantly by Strafford. Well, the future Must recompense the past. She tarries long. I understand you, Strafford, now! The scheme-- Carlisle 's mad scheme--he 'll sanction it, I fear, For love of me. 'T was too precipitate: Before the army 's fairly on its march, He 'll be at large: no matter. Well, Carlisle? (_Enter_ PYM.) _Pym._ Fear me not, sir:--my mission is to save, This time.