John nodded. As soon as he had seen the king dressed as a martyr in black with that dazzling burst of diamonds on his shoulder he had known that this was the greatest masque Charles had ever played. This was no light-hearted interlude, it was full tragedy, and both the king and the court would play it to the full.

‘For these reasons,’ Cook concluded, ‘on behalf of the people of England, I impeach the said Charles Stuart as a tyrant, traitor and murderer, and a public and implacable enemy to the Commonwealth of England.’

There was a dead silence in the court as the people absorbed the accusation and understood that Cromwell and his court were demanding the ultimate punishment: the beheading of the king. The silence was broken by a peal of completely convincing laughter. The king was shaking in his chair, laughing as if at some delightful, ridiculous jest. He threw back his head and shook his curls. The laughter went on, horribly on, prolonged beyond any real amusement, the hard noise of a man defying his own fear.

‘Sir,’ Bradshaw said steadily. ‘You have now heard your charge and the court expects your answer.’

The whole body of people in the court leaned forwards. The fans of ladies in the galleries were frozen still. Everyone listened to hear what the king would say.

‘I would know by what power I am called hither?’ he asked. ‘I would know by what authority – I mean lawful?’

The rest of his answer was drowned by an upsurge of voices. ‘He’s going to challenge them every step of the way,’ Alexander shouted over the noise to John.

‘God no! If he would just agree, if he would just ask for mercy …’

The king was still speaking but he could not be heard above the shouting.

Bradshaw hammered for order and replied to the king. John saw the king shake his head and speak again.

Bradshaw made a gesture: the king should be taken from the court. As he rose to leave the soldiers in the court suddenly shouted ‘Justice! Justice!’ and John saw the king start back for a moment, and knew that he feared a brawl and death in a struggle more than anything else.

‘He wants the scaffold,’ John said, suddenly seeing it all. ‘So that he can hand the crown entire to Prince Charles. So he can die as a man who was martyred for his beliefs. He’s not staking for his own life now, but the condition of kingship itself.’

Charles paused before the table of judges. ‘You have shown no lawful authority to satisfy any reasonable man,’ he said sternly to Bradshaw.

‘We are satisfied.’

‘I don’t fear that,’ the king said derisively.

He turned and gave a little half-smile to the people in the courtroom, as a player will do when he has had the best of a scene.