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Scott, Walter, Sir, 1771-1832

"The Fortunes of Nigel"

If
I speak loud, start to me like a falcon--If I speak loun, keep your
lang lugs out of ear-shot--and now let him come in."
Richie passed forward at Maxwell's mute signal, and in a moment found
himself in the presence of the king. Most men of Richie's birth and
breeding, and many others, would have been abashed at finding
themselves alone with their Sovereign. But Richie Moniplies had an
opinion of himself too high to be controlled by any such ideas; and
having made his stiff reverence, he arose once more into his
perpendicular height, and stood before James as stiff as a hedge-
stake.
"Have ye gotten them, man? have ye gotten them?" said the king, in a
fluttered state, betwixt hope and eagerness, and some touch of
suspicious fear. "Gie me them--gie me them--before ye speak a word, I
charge you, on your allegiance."
Richie took a box from his bosom, and, stooping on one knee, presented
it to his Majesty, who hastily opened it, and having ascertained that
it contained a certain carcanet of rubies, with which the reader was
formerly made acquainted, he could not resist falling into a sort of
rapture, kissing the gems, as if they had been capable of feeling, and
repeating again and again with childish delight, "_Onyx cum prole,
silexque_---_Onyx cum prole!_ Ah, my bright and bonny sparklers, my
heart loups light to see you again." He then turned to Richie, upon
whose stoical countenance his Majesty's demeanour had excited
something like a grim smile, which James interrupted his rejoicing to
reprehend, saying, "Take heed, sir, you are not to laugh at us--we are
your anointed Sovereign.


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