"Uncle," whispered the page, creeping up to his ear, "can this man be
indeed a Jew? He hath a blue eye and an English tongue; and surely not
an Israelitish heart; see that he deceive us not."
"My dear boy, peace," said the simple yet learned Doctor; "let the
wisdom of this poor child of Israel teach thee to be more humble-minded;
for, look ye, who might not profit by his words?"
The excellent man would have spoken much more to our friend Robin, who
might not inaptly be likened to a dark-lantern, within which is much
light, though it is only occasionally given forth; but on the instant
Gracious Meanwell summoned him to appear before the Protector.
"The Lord deliver me! the Lord deliver me!" muttered Robin, as he
followed his conductor past the silken barrier--"The Lord deliver me!
for, of a truth, my head is now fairly in the lion's mouth."
The room into which he was ushered thus abruptly was hung with ancient
tapestry, and furnished after the strangest fashion. Robin had little
inclination to examine either its proportions or arrangements, but
tremblingly followed until his guide paused with him opposite a long
narrow table, at the further end of which, his hand resting upon a pile
of books, stood the Protector--Oliver Cromwell.
It was impossible to look upon him without feeling that he was a man
born to command and to overthrow. His countenance, though swollen and
reddish, was marked and powerful, and his presence as lofty and majestic
as if he had of right inherited the throne of England. However his
enemies might have jested upon his personal appearance, and mocked the
ruddiness of his countenance, and the unseemly wart that disfigured his
broad, lofty, and projecting brow, they must have all trembled under the
thunder of his frown: it was terrific, dark, and scowling, lighted up
occasionally by the flashing of his fierce grey eye, but only so as to
show its power still the more. His dress consisted of a doublet and vest
of black velvet, carefully put on, and of a handsome fashion; a deep
collar of the finest linen, embroidered and edged with lace, turned over
his vest, and displayed to great advantage his firm and remarkably
muscular throat. His hair, which seemed by that light as dark and
luxuriant as it had been in his younger age, fell at either side, but
was completely combed or pushed off his massive forehead. He looked, in
very truth, a most strong man--strong in mind, strong in body, strong in
battle, strong in council. There was no weakness about him, except that
engendered by a warm imagination acting in concert with the deepest
veneration, and which rendered him ever and unhappily prone to
superstitious dreamings.