University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

The King's closet in Whitehall Palace, hung with pictures: the appointments and furniture costly, but disordered. On a table a high-crowned grey hat, encircled by a carkanet of large rubies.
King James and Heriot are discovered. The King's doublet is of quilted green velvet, giving a protuberant appearance to his figure; with a sad coloured night-gown, from the pocket of which peeps a hunting horn; on his head is a blue-velvet night-cap with a heron plume in front. Heriot is habited richly, though gravely, in a cloak of black velvet, and hose of the same, slashed with purple silk; a doublet or purple cloth with numerous buttons of silver fillagree; a flat cap in his hand, a triple gold chain round his neck, and a silver writing case in his belt. They come forward.
James.
Alack, I doubt, friend Heriot, the whole wisdom
Of Scotland left it, when we took our travels
Southward.

Her.
The wise, an't please your majesty,
Follow the wisest, ev'n as stags their leader.

James.
Aye, but the fools come too. No further back
Than yester-noon, an Edinburgh beggar,
Each dud upon whose back was taking leave
Of its next neighbour, splash'd before our horse,
And thrust a smear'd petition in our hand
About our mother's debts, and sic-like trash.
Whereat, our beast uprear'd, and, had we not
Such seat as few, or kings, or subjects, have,
We'd laid our gracious length upon the causeway.
Oh, there is not a loon among 'em kens
How a petition should be brought before
The face of majesty!

Her.
Then, would I knew it,
Were't but to teach my unbred countrymen.

James.
Now, troth, but ye're a civilized fellow, Geordie,
And I'll bestow the lesson on you. First,
Ye must approach the regal presence, thus,
Shad'wing your forehead with your hand. (Heriot does so.)
That's well,
That's in a comely manner. Kneel, sir, next,
As ye would kiss our garment's hem, or shoe-latch.
(Heriot does so.)
Now, (very well enacted,) we prevent
This motion, signing you to rise; but you,
Having a boon to beg, obey not yet,
But, gliding thus your hand into your pouch,
Bring forth your scroll, and place it rev'rently
In our stretch'd hand.

Her.
(Putting a roll of paper into James's hands.)
So, by your grace's goodness—

James.
(startled)
What! have we taught the manual exercise
To you, that you should thus present your piece
At our own sacred body!

Her.
My presumption,
Which yet I trust your princely clemency
Will deign to pardon, is not for myself.

James.
(Raising him.)
The worse: I wish it were: I would be glad
To do thee kindness, Geordie: thou hast served
Our need more times than once, mine honest goldsmith.
(Opening the scroll).
But how? a dun? Why aye, 'tis true enough,
We owed some siller to Lord Nigel's father;
But we are not absconding! What hath prick'd
Nigel to dun us for't?

Her.
Alas! his want, sir,
And not his will. Unless, ere night to-morrow,
He raise six thousand pieces, all his lands,
Mortgaged for that amount, but ten times worth
So poor a sum, will pass for ever from him
Into the lender's grasp.

James.
It must not be!
Our old friend's son, a peer, thrust from his heritage
By a base money'd carle! A gracious youth too;
Bows well; hath parts and lore: Cannot you raise
The siller, George?

Her.
Had not mistaken shame
Withheld Lord Nigel from disclosing to me
The strait he labours in, until this morning,
I might have help'd him; but the sum I gather'd
Yesterday, for your grace's privy purse,
Has drain'd, not simply all my gold, but ev'n
My ready means of borrowing.

James.
Now ye think
Our purse is full. Ye're wrong: on a king's word
All's gone, paid out, to th'last: It were as hopeful
To ask the breeks of a wild Highlandman.
Your credit strain'd too?

Her.
Aye, sir.

James.
Here, old Levite, (Taking the rubies from his hat)

Raise him the gold on these. You've got them pledged
For larger sums ere now: we will redeem them
From the next subsidy. Oons, no more kneeling!
Your plaguy genuflexions have already
Cost us six thousand—if you should kneel down
A second time, we're bankrupt.

Her.
In the name, then,
Of my Lord Nigel—

James.
Name of nonsense, man,
Get thee away, and do it.
(Calling for his Pages at the side scene.)
To the gate there,
Knaves! keep a London goldsmith waiting, while
Boys truss their points! he'll stir you!—So—
Pages hurry across the stage, showing out Heriot, who bows and exit.
Aye, jingler—
Aye, canny gold and silver! that's the kind
Makes way with those that keep the doors of kings!

[Exit.