"
They stopped that night at Northampton. Barton was reserved and silent,
and at length remarked, that in two days their party would reach
London.--"I have never seen London," said Isabel. "Come, describe it to
us, and say where shall we be confined. I suppose we shall meet with
only warm, steady, common-wealth's men."
"It is the seat of discord," answered Barton; "there are as many
factions as there are orators, all striving for mastery; yet all united
against the King, by a persuasion of his insincerity, and by
apprehensions that he would sacrifice them to his vengeance, in case he
were reconciled to the Parliament."
"Can it be supposed," said Eustace, "that after the wrongs and
iniquities he has endured, he ever can forgive! Where is the oblivious
draught that can drown the recollection of a nation rising in arms
against its Sovereign?"
Baron answered--"The nation and the King must both forgive, or war must
be eternal. You have seen its aspect; what think you? Is this great
quarrel like the mere abstract question which is cooly discussed in the
cabinet of Princes, when they talk of risking ten thousand lives for a
victory, and laying waste a province to cut off the resources of the
enemy? Let us not balance misery against forgiveness.
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