John Bradshaw, the late King's judge, was in the chair; he faced the Lord-General as he had faced the unhappy King, with unshaken dignity and calm.
Cromwell was now composed; but he eyed the Councillors fiercely as he walked up the room.
"If you meet here as private persons," he said, "you shall not be disturbed, but if you meet as a Council of State, this is no place for you," his harsh voice became ominous. "Since you cannot but know what has just been done in the House, take notice that the Parliament is dissolved."
The Latin secretary raised his tired blue eyes with something of admiration as well as keen interest in their glance, but Bradshaw replied with unmoved sternness, eyeing Cromwell with a directness as uncompromising as Cromwell eyed him.
"Sir," he said, "we have heard what you did in the House, and before many hours all England will hear it. But, sir, you are mistaken to think that the Parliament is dissolved—for no power under Heaven can dissolve them but they themselves, therefore take you notice of that."
"Ha, Mr. Bradshaw," returned the Lord-General, "you may talk and talk, but I say that the Lord has done with you and with these others about you. I know that you are a person of an upright carriage, who has notably appeared for God and for the public good, but I say that your time is over—other means are to be used now, yea, other means!"
"The means of force and violence," replied John Bradshaw calmly, "and to them we must submit. I do not deny that, but your right we shall always deny, therefore remember it——"
"You are no longer a Council of State," said Cromwell, "and none shall any longer give heed to you. Go about your several businesses."
Bradshaw came down from his place.