_Straf._ Observe, not but that Pym and you Will find me news enough--news I shall hear Under a quince-tree by a fish-pond side At Wentworth. Garrard must be re-engaged My newsman. Or, a better project now-- What if when all 's consummated, and the Saints Reign, and the Senate's work goes swimingly,-- What if I venture up, some day, unseen, To saunter through the Town, notice how Pym, Your Tribune, likes Whitehall, drop quietly Into a tavern, hear a point discussed, As, whether Strafford's name were John or James-- And be myself appealed to--I, who shall Myself have near forgotten! _Hol._ I would speak ... _Straf._ Then you shall speak,--not now. I want just now, To hear the sound of my own tongue. This place Is full of ghosts. _Hol._ Nay, you must hear me, Strafford! _Straf._ Oh, readily! Only, one rare thing more,-- The minister! Who will advise the King, Turn his Sejanus, Richelieu and what not, And yet have health--children, for aught I know-- My patient pair of traitors! Ah,--but, William-- Does not his cheek grow thin? _Wil._ 'T is you look thin, Father! _Straf._ A scamper o'er the breezy wolds Sets all to-rights. _Hol._ You cannot sure forget A prison-roof is o'er you, Strafford? _Straf._ No, Why, no. I would not touch on that, the first. I left you that. Well, Hollis? Say at once, The King can find no time to set me free! A mask at Theobald's? _Hol._ Hold: no such affair Detains him. _Straf._ True: what needs so great a matter? The Queen's lip may be sore. Well: when he pleases,-- Only, I want the air: it vexes flesh To be pent up so long. _Hol._ The King--I bear His message, Strafford: pray you, let me speak! _Straf._ Go, William! Anne, try o'er your song again! [_The_ Children _retire._ They shall be loyal, friend, at all events. I know your message: you have nothing new To tell me: from the first I guessed as much. I know, instead of coming here himself, Leading me forth in public by the hand, The King prefers to leave the door ajar As though I were escaping--bids me trudge While the mob gapes upon some show prepared On the other side of the river! Give at once His order of release! I 've heard, as well, Of certain poor manœuvres to avoid The granting pardon at his proper risk; First, he must prattle somewhat to the Lords, Must talk a trifle with the Commons first, Be grieved I should abuse his confidence, And far from blaming them, and ... Where 's the order? _Hol._ Spare me!