His
daughter, who came with him, was about twenty years old, very pretty,
very demure, yet with lively black eyes, that ever and anon
contradicted the expression of sobriety, to which silence, reserve, a
plain velvet hood, and a cambric ruff, had condemned Mistress Marget,
as the daughter of a quiet citizen.
There were also two citizens and merchants of London, men ample in
cloak, and many-linked golden chain, well to pass in the world, and
experienced in their craft of merchandise, but who require no
particular description. There was an elderly clergyman also, in his
gown and cassock, a decent venerable man, partaking in his manners of
the plainness of the citizens amongst whom he had his cure.
These may be dismissed with brief notice; but not so Sir Mungo
Malagrowther, of Girnigo Castle, who claims a little more attention,
as an original character of the time in which he flourished.
That good knight knocked at Master Heriot's door just as the clock
began to strike twelve, and was seated in his chair ere the last
stroke had chimed. This gave the knight an excellent opportunity of
making sarcastic observations on all who came later than himself, not
to mention a few rubs at the expense of those who had been so
superfluous as to appear earlier.
Having little or no property save his bare designation, Sir Mungo had
been early attached to Court in the capacity of whipping-boy, as the
office was then called, to King James the Sixth, and, with his
Majesty, trained to all polite learning by his celebrated preceptor,
George Buchanan.
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