f the play is, even more than that of _Strafford_,
political. The intrigue turns on questions of government, complicated
with questions of relationship and duty. The conflict is one between
ruler and ruler, who are also father and son; and the true tragedy of
the situation seems to be this: shall Charles obey the instincts of a
son, and cede to his father's wish to resume the government he has
abdicated, or is there a higher duty which he is bound to follow, the
duty of a king to his people? The motive is a fine one, but it is
scarcely handled with Browning's accustomed skill and subtlety. King
Victor, of whose "fiery and audacious temper, unscrupulous selfishness,
profound dissimulation, and singular fertility in resources," Browning
speaks in his preface, is an impressive study of "the old age of crafty
men," the futile wiliness of decrepit and persevering craft, though we
are scarcely made to feel the once potent personality of the man, or to
understand the influence which his mere word or presence still has upon
his son. D'Ormea, who checkmates all the schemes of his old master, is a
curious and subtle study of one who "serves God at the devil's bidding,"
as he himself confesses in the cynical frankness of his continual
ironical self-criticism. After twenty years of unsuccessful intrigue, he
has learnt by experience that honesty is the best policy. But at every
step his evil reputation clogs and impedes his honest action, and the
very men whom he is now most sincere in helping are the most mistrustful
of his sincerity. Charles, whose good intentions and vacillating will
are the precise opposites of his father's strong will and selfish
purposes, is really the central figure of the play. He is one of those
men whom we at once despise and respect. Gifted with many good
qualities, he seems to lack the one thing needful to bind them together.
Polyxena, his wife, possesses just that resolution in which he is
wanting. She is a fine, firm, clear character, herself admirable, and
admirably drawn. Her "noble and right woman's manliness" (to use
Browning's phrase) is prompt to sweep away the cobwebs that entangle her
husband's path or obscure his vision of things. From first to last she
sees through Charles, Victor and D'Ormea, who neither understand one
another nor perhaps themselves; from first to last she is the same
clear-headed, decisive, consistent woman, loyal always to love, but
always yet more loyal toward truth.

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