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Page 88
Getting up from table, he ran to see what was the matter, followed by
many of the guests, and the king among them. They all crowded to the
door of the play-room.
On looking in, they beheld the little Prince Charles, with his rich
dress all torn, and covered with the dust of the floor. His royal blood
was streaming from his nose in great abundance. He gazed at Noll with a
mixture of rage and affright, and at the same time a puzzled expression,
as if he could not understand how any mortal boy should dare to give him
a beating. As for Noll, there stood his sturdy little figure, bold as a
lion, looking as if he were ready to fight not only the prince, but the
king and kingdom too.
"You little villain!" cried his uncle. "What have you been about? Down
on your knees, this instant, and ask the prince's pardon. How dare you
lay your hands on the king's Majesty's royal son?"
"He struck me first," grumbled the valiant little Noll; "and I've only
given him his due."
Sir Oliver and the guests lifted up their hands in astonishment and
horror. No punishment seemed severe enough for this wicked little
varlet, who had dared to resent a blow from the king's own son. Some of
the courtiers were of opinion that Noll should be sent prisoner to the
Tower of London, and brought to trial for high treason. Others, in their
great zeal for the king's service, were about to lay hands on the boy,
and chastise him in the royal presence.
But King James, who sometimes showed a good deal of sagacity, ordered
them to desist.
"Thou art a bold boy," said he, looking fixedly at little Noll; "and, if
thou live to be a man, my son Charlie would do wisely to be friends with
thee."
"I never will!" cried the little prince, stamping his foot.
"Peace, Charlie, peace!" said the king; then addressing Sir Oliver and
the attendants, "Harm not the urchin; for he has taught my son a good
lesson, if Heaven do but give him grace to profit by it. Hereafter,
should he be tempted to tyrannize over the stubborn race of Englishmen,
let him remember little Noll Cromwell, and his own bloody nose!"
So the king finished his dinner and departed; and, for many a long year,
the childish quarrel between Prince Charles and Noll Cromwell was
forgotten. The prince, indeed, might have lived a happier life, and have
met a more peaceful death, had he remembered that quarrel, and the moral
which his father drew from it. But, when old King James was dead, and
Charles sat upon his throne, he seemed to forget that he was but a man,
and that his meanest subjects were men as well as he. He wished to have
the property and lives of the people of England entirely at his own
disposal. But the Puritans, and all who loved liberty, rose against him,
and beat him in many battles, and pulled him down from his throne.
Throughout this war between the king and nobles on one side, and the
people of England on the other, there was a famous leader, who did more
towards the ruin of royal authority, than all the rest. The contest
seemed like a wrestling-match between King Charles and this strong man.
And the king was overthrown.
When the discrowned monarch was brought to trial, that warlike leader
sat in the judgment-hall. Many judges were present, besides himself; but
he alone had the power to save King Charles, or to doom him to the
scaffold. After sentence was pronounced, this victorious general was
entreated by his own children, on their knees, to rescue his Majesty
from death.
"No!" said he sternly. "Better that one man should perish, than that the
whole country should be ruined for his sake. It is resolved that he
shall die!"
When Charles, no longer a king, was led to the scaffold, his great enemy
stood at a window of the royal palace of Whitehall. He beheld the poor
victim of pride, and an evil education, and misused power, as he laid
his head upon the block. He looked on, with a steadfast gaze, while a
black-veiled executioner lifted the fatal axe, and smote off that
anointed head at a single blow.
"It is a righteous deed," perhaps he said to himself. "Now Englishmen
may enjoy their rights."
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