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Scott, Walter, Sir, 1771-1832

"The Fortunes of Nigel"

There is
a resemblance, sir,--Do you not think so? Then they call our most
gracious Sovereign the Second Solomon, and Solomon, you know, was King
of the Jews; so the thing bears a face, you see. I believe, sir, you
will find yourself trimmed now to your content. I will be judged by
the fair mistress of your affections. Crave pardon--no offence, I
trust. Pray, consult the glass--one touch of the crisping tongs, to
reduce this straggler.--Thank your munificence, sir--hope your custom
while you stay in Greenwich. Would you have a tune on that ghittern,
to put your temper in concord for the day?--Twang, twang--twang,
twang, dillo. Something out of tune, sir--too many hands to touch it--
we cannot keep these things like artists. Let me help you with your
cloak, sir--yes, sir--You would not play yourself, sir, would you?--
Way to Sir Munko's eating-house?--Yes, sir; but it is Ned's eating-
house, not Sir Munko's.--The knight, to be sure, eats there, and makes
it his eating-house in some sense, sir--ha, ha! Yonder it is, removed
from over the way, new white-washed posts, and red lattice--fat man in
his doublet at the door--Ned himself, sir--worth a thousand pounds,
they say--better singeing pigs' faces than trimming courtiers--but
ours is the less mechanical vocation.--Farewell, sir; hope your
custom. "So saying, he at length permitted Nigel to depart, whose
ears, so long tormented with continued babble, tingled when it had
ceased, as if a bell had been rung close to them for the same space of
time.


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