The Fortunes of Nigel by Walter Scott (good summer reads txt) 📕

a citizen, that is Sir Mungo Malagrowther and our servant George Heriot here, wha dang the poor lad about, and didna greatly spare our royal selves.—You mind, Geordie, what you said about the wives and concubines? but I forgie ye, man—nae need of kneeling, I forgie ye—the readier, that it regards a certain particular, whilk, as it added not much to Solomon's credit, the lack of it cannot be said to impinge on ours. Aweel, my lords, for all temptation of sore distress and evil ensample, this poor lad never loosed his tongue on us to say one unbecoming word—which inclines us the rather, acting always by your wise advice, to treat this affair of the Park as a thing done in the heat of blood, and under strong provocation, and therefore to confer our free pardon on Lord Glenvarloch.”

“I am happy your gracious Majesty,” said the Duke of Buckingham, “has arrived at that conclusion, though I could never have guessed at the road by which you attained it.”

“I trust,” said Prince Charles, “that it is not a path which your Majesty will think it consistent with your high dignity to tread frequently.”

“Never while I live again, Baby Charles, that I give you my royal word on. They say that hearkeners hear ill tales of themselves—by my saul, my very ears are tingling wi' that auld sorrow Sir Mungo's sarcasms. He called us close-fisted, Steenie—I am sure you can contradict that. But it is mere envy in the auld mutilated sinner, because he himself has neither a noble to hold in his loof, nor fingers to close on it if he had.” Here the king lost recollection of Sir Mungo's irreverence in chuckling over his own wit, and only farther alluded to it by saying—“We must give the old maunderer bos in linguam—something to stop his mouth, or he will rail at us from Dan to Beersheba.—And now, my lords, let our warrant of mercy to Lord Glenvarloch be presently expedited, and he put to his freedom; and as his estate is likely to go so sleaveless a gate, we will consider what means of favour we can show him.—My lords, I wish you an appetite to an early supper—for our labours have approached that term.—Baby Charles and Steenie, you will remain till our couchee.—My Lord Bishop, you will be pleased to stay to bless our meat.—Geordie Heriot, a word with you apart.”

His Majesty then drew the citizen into a corner, while the counsellors, those excepted who had been commanded to remain, made their obeisance, and withdrew. “Geordie,” said the king, “my good and trusty servant”—Here he busied his fingers much with the points and ribbons of his dress,—“Ye see that we have granted, from our own natural sense of right and justice, that which yon long-backed fallow, Moniplies I think they ca' him, proffered to purchase from us with a mighty bribe; whilk we refused, as being a crowned king, who wad neither sell our justice nor our mercy for pecuniar consideration. Now, what think ye should be the upshot of this?”

“My Lord Glenvarloch's freedom, and his restoration to your Majesty's favour,” said Heriot.

“I ken that,” said the king, peevishly. “Ye are very dull to-day. I mean, what do you think this fallow Moniplies should think about the matter?”

“Surely that your Majesty is a most good and gracious sovereign,” answered Heriot.

“We had need to be gude and gracious baith,” said the king, still more pettishly, “that have idiots about us that cannot understand what we mint at, unless we speak it out in braid Lowlands. See this chield Moniplies, sir, and tell him what we have done for Lord Glenvarloch, in whom he takes such part, out of our own gracious motion, though we refused to do it on ony proffer of private advantage. Now, you may put it till him, as if of your own mind, whether it will be a gracious or a dutiful part in him, to press us for present payment of the two or three hundred miserable pounds for whilk we were obliged to opignorate our jewels? Indeed, mony men may think ye wad do the part of a good citizen, if you took it on yourself to refuse him payment, seeing he hath had what he professed to esteem full satisfaction, and considering, moreover, that it is evident he hath no pressing need of the money, whereof we have much necessity.”

George Heriot sighed internally. “O my Master,” thought he—“my dear Master, is it then fated you are never to indulge any kingly or noble sentiment, without its being sullied by some afterthought of interested selfishness!”

The king troubled himself not about what he thought, but taking him by the collar, said,—“Ye ken my meaning now, Jingler—awa wi' ye. You are a wise man—manage it your ain gate—but forget not our present straits.” The citizen made his obeisance, and withdrew.

“And now, bairns,” said the king, “what do you look upon each other for—and what have you got to ask of your dear dad and gossip?”

“Only,” said the Prince, “that it would please your Majesty to command the lurking-place at the prison to be presently built up—the groans of a captive should not be brought in evidence against him.”

“What! build up my lugg, Baby Charles? And yet, better deaf than hear ill tales of oneself. So let them build it up, hard and fast, without delay, the rather that my back is sair with sitting in it for a whole hour.—And now let us see what the cooks have been doing for us, bonny bairns.”