ays by charging the
enemy, rallying his troops, rushing everywhere, often wounded, killing
many royalist officers with his own hand, like a desperate and
infuriated grenadier.

Amid this frightful war Cromwell made love; he went, his Bible under his
arm, to sleep with the wife of his major-general, Lambert. She loved the
Count of Holland, who was serving in the king's army. Cromwell took him
prisoner in a battle, and enjoyed the pleasure of having his rival's
head cut off. His maxim was to shed the blood of every important enemy,
either on the field of battle, or by the executioner's hand. He always
increased his power, by always daring to abuse it; the profundity of his
plans took away nothing from his ferocious impetuosity. He goes into the
House of Parliament and, taking his watch, which he threw on the ground
and which he shattered to atoms: "I will break you," he said, "like this
watch." He returns there some time after, drives all the members out one
after the other, making them defile before him. Each is obliged, as he
passes, to make him a deep bow: one of them passes with his hat on his
head; Cromwell takes his hat from him and throws it on the ground:
"Learn to respect me," he says.

When he had outraged all kings by having his own legitimate king's head
cut off, and when he started to reign himself, he sent his portrait to a
crowned head; it was to Christine, Queen of Sweden. Marvell, a famous
English poet, who wrote very good Latin verse, accompanied this portrait
with six verses where he made Cromwell himself speak. Cromwell corrected
the last two as follows:

_At tibi submittit frontem reverentior umbra,
Non sunt hi vultus regibus usque truces._

This queen was the first to recognize him as soon as he was protector of
the three kingdoms. Almost all the sovereigns of Europe sent their
ambassadors _to their brother_ Cromwell, to this bishop's servant, who
had just caused a sovereign, their own kin, to perish at the hand of the
executioner. They vied with each in soliciting his alliance. Cardinal
Mazarin, to please him, drove out of France the two sons of Charles I.,
the two grandsons of Henry IV., the two first cousins of Louis XIV.
France conquered Dunkirk for him, and sent him the keys. After his
death, Louis XIV. and all his court wore mourning, excepting
Mademoiselle, who had the courage to come to the company in a coloured
habit, and alone maintained the honour of her race.

Never was a