The miller walked up the glen, and soon gained the highway. At
every step he beheld proofs of the bad effects of the “Book of
Sports.” No crowds were to be seen moving to church, but they were
loitering by the way, engaged in mirth and games.
“Ha!” exclaimed Hans, as he beheld an old man tottering on before
him,--“who can this be? I should know his gait, but then, his
apparel is changed. It is old Sir Robert; but before, he was always
dressed as a gay cavalier.”
The old knight turned round. His white locks hung over a
plain-fashioned coat, and his hat was stripped of the proud plume
which he had once sported. His age might be seventy, although his
face was rosy.
“Well, well, good miller,” he kindly said, “art thou alone also? I
left my beloved daughters at home, for I am fearful of the times.”
“You have nothing to fear, Sir Robert,” replied the miller, “in
Lancaster, since you are a Royalist.”
“A Royalist!” echoed the knight, and he shook his head. “Not much
of that now; no, no. The king has become a tyrant, and I disown his
cause. A gallant nephew of mine, a roundhead by principle, in a
battle of last month, was made prisoner, and the king gave him no
quarter--but death!”
“The taking away of life,” rejoined the miller, “Charles seems to
consider as his kingly prerogative.”
“His turn will come at last, Republicans say it _shall_, Death says
it _will_. And what is a King? The meanest beggar. The poor man may
only have one morsel of bread,--the king demands the half of it,
and he is not frightened, for all his pride, and by his thoughts of
dirt and scab to eat it. He,--a great man! Go to the treasury, and
there you will see the widow’s mite, and the starving man’s alms!
and Charles puts forth his white hand and takes them!”
“Yea, truly,” said Hans, “I am more independent in my cottage,
than Charles in his palace. I earn my bread by labour, but he just
puts on a few robes which we have all patched up with our own rags,
blows a whistle which we have bought for him, and plays with a toy
which he calls a sceptre, and for all this he receives his million.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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