“What a noble little prince he is!” exclaimed Sir Oliver, lifting his hands in admiration.  “No, please your Majesty, I have no son to be the playmate of his Royal Highness; but there is a nephew of mine, somewhere about the house.  He is near the prince’s age, and will be but too happy to wait upon his Royal Highness.”

“Send for him, man! send for him!” said the king.

But, as it happened, there was no need of sending for Master Noll.  While King James was speaking, a rugged, bold-faced, sturdy little urchin thrust himself through the throng of courtiers and attendants, and greeted the prince with a broad stare.  His doublet and hose (which had been put on new and clean in honor of the king’s visit) were already soiled and torn with the rough play in which he had spent the morning.  He looked no more abashed than if King James were his uncle, and the prince one of his customary playfellows.

This was little Noll himself.

“Here, please your Majesty, is my nephew,” said sir Oliver, somewhat ashamed of Noll’s appearance and demeanor.  “Oliver, make your obeisance to the king’s Majesty!”

The boy made a pretty respectful obeisance to the king; for, in those days, children were taught to pay reverence to their elders.  King James, who prided himself greatly on his scholarship, asked Noll a few questions in the Latin Grammar, and then introduced him to his son.  The little prince in a very grave and dignified manner, extended his hand, not for Noll to shake, but that he might kneel down and kiss it.

“Nephew,” said Sir Oliver, “pay your duty to the prince.”

“I owe him no duty,” cried Noll, thrusting aside the prince’s hand, with a rude laugh.  “Why should I kiss that boy’s hand?”

All the courtiers were amazed and confounded, and Sir Oliver the most of all.  But the king laughed heartily, saying that little Noll had a stubborn English spirit, and that it was well for his son to learn betimes what sort of a people he was to rule over.

So King James and his train entered the house; and the prince, with Noll and some other children, was sent to play in a separate room while his Majesty was at dinner.  The young people soon became acquainted; for boys, whether the sons of monarchs or of peasants, all like play, and are pleased with one another’s society.  What games they diverted themselves with, I cannot tell.  Perhaps they played at ball—­perhaps at blindman’s buff—­perhaps at leap-frog—­perhaps at prison-bars.  Such games have been in use for hundreds of years; and princes as well as poor children have spent some of their happiest hours in playing at them.

Meanwhile, King James and his nobles were feasting with Sir Oliver, in the great hall.  The king sat in a gilded chair, under a canopy, at the head of a long table.  Whenever any of the company addressed him, it was with the deepest reverence.  If the attendants offered him wine, or the various delicacies of the festival, it was upon their bended knees.  You would have thought, by these tokens of worship, that the monarch was a supernatural being; only he seemed to have quite as much need of those vulgar matters, food and drink, as any other person at the table.  But fate had ordained that good King James should not finish his dinner in peace.