It is
George Heriot come to tell us he cannot find these jewels.--Get thee
behind the arras, Richie--stand close, man--sneeze not--cough not--
breathe not!--Jingling Geordie is so damnably ready with his gold-ends
of wisdom, and sae accursedly backward with his gold-ends of siller,
that, by our royal saul, we are glad to get a hair in his neck."
Richie got behind the arras, in obedience to the commands of the good-
natured king, while the Monarch, who never allowed his dignity to
stand in the way of a frolic, having adjusted, with his own hand, the
tapestry, so as to complete the ambush, commanded Maxwell to tell him
what was the matter without. Maxwell's reply was so low as to be lost
by Richie Moniplies, the peculiarity of whose situation by no means
abated his curiosity and desire to gratify it to the uttermost.
"Let Geordie Heriot come in," said the king; and, as Richie could
observe through a slit in the tapestry, the honest citizen, if not
actually agitated, was at least discomposed. The king, whose talent
for wit, or humour, was precisely of a kind to be gratified by such a
scene as ensued, received his homage with coldness, and began to talk
to him with an air of serious dignity, very different from the usual
indecorous levity of his behaviour. "Master Heriot," he said, "if we
aright remember, we opignorated in your hands certain jewels of the
Crown, for a certain sum of money--Did we, or did we not?"
"My most gracious Sovereign," said Heriot, "indisputably your Majesty
was pleased to do so.
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