give sentence."

"I shall add nothing, sir," said the king; "and only request that what I
have said may be recorded." Without replying to this, Bradshaw informed
him that he was about to hear his sentence; but before he ordered it to
be read, he addressed to the king a long discourse, as a solemn apology
for the proceedings of parliament, enumerating all the evil deeds of the
king, and imputing to him alone all the misfortunes of the civil war,
since it was his tyranny that had made resistance as much a matter of
duty as of necessity. The orator's language was harsh and bitter, but
grave, pious, free from insult, and stamped with profound conviction,
though with a slight mixture of vindictive feeling. The king heard him
without offering any interruption, and with equal gravity. In
proportion, however, as the discourse drew towards a close, he became
visibly troubled; and as soon as Bradshaw was silent, he endeavoured to
speak: Bradshaw prevented him, and commanded the clerk to read the
sentence; this being done, he said, "This is the act, opinion, and
unanimous judgment of the court," and the whole court rose up in token
of assent: "Sir," said the king, abruptly, "will you hear one word?"

_Bradshaw._ "Sir, you cannot be heard after sentence has been
passed."

_The King._ "No, sir!"

_Bradshaw_. "No, sir, with your permission, sir. Guards, remove the
prisoner."

_The King_. "I can speak after sentence.--With your permission,
sir, I have still a right to speak after sentence.--With your