Вальтер Скотт - The Bride of Lammermoor стр 19.

We must please him after his own fashion, said another, though it be an unlooked-for one.

A wilful man maun hae his way, answered the old counsellor.

The Keeper will rue this before year and day are out, said a third; the Master of Ravenswood is the lad to wind him a pirn.

Why, what would you do, my lords, with the poor young fellow? said a noble Marquis present. The Lord Keeper has got all his estates; he has not a cross to bless himself with.

On which the ancient Lord Turntippet replied,

And that was our way before the Revolution: Lucitur cum persona, qui luere non potest cum crumena. Hegh, my lords, thats gude law Latin.

I can see no motive, replied the Marquis, that any noble lord can have for urging this matter farther; let the Lord Keeper have the power to deal in it as he pleases.

Agree, agree remit to the Lord Keeper, with any other person for fashions sake Lord Hirplehooly, who is bed-ridden one to be a quorum. Make your entry in the minutes, Mr. Clerk. And now, my lords, there is that young scattergood the Laird of Bucklaws fine to be disposed upon. I suppose it goes to my Lord Treasurer?

Shame be in my meal-poke, then, exclaimed the Lord Turntippet, and your hand aye in the nook of it! I had set that down for a bye-bit between meals for mysell.

To use one of your favourite saws, my lord, replied the Marquis, you are like the millers dog, that licks his lips before the bag is untied: the man is not fined yet.

But that costs but twa skarts of a pen, said Lord Turntippet; and surely there is nae noble lord that will presume to say that I, wha hae complied wi a compliances, taen all manner of tests, adjured all that was to be abjured, and sworn a that was to be sworn, for these thirty years bye-past, sticking fast by my duty to the state through good report and bad report, shouldna hae something now and then to synd my mouth wi after sic drouthy wark? Eh?

It would be very unreasonable indeed, my lord, replied the Marquis, had we either thought that your lordships drought was quenchable, or observed anything stick in your throat that required washing down.

And so we close the scene on the privy council of that period.

CHAPTER VI

ON the evening of the day when the Lord Keeper and his daughter were saved from such imminent peril, two strangers were seated in the most private apartment of a small obscure inn, or rather alehouse, called the Tods Den [Hole], about three or four [five or six] miles from the Castle of Ravenswood and as far from the ruinous tower of Wolfs Crag, betwixt which two places it was situated.

One of these strangers was about forty years of age, tall, and thin in the flanks, with an aquiline nose, dark penetrating eyes, and a shrewd but sinister cast of countenance. The other was about fifteen years younger, short, stout, ruddy-faced, and red-haired, with an open, resolute, and cheerful eye, to which careless and fearless freedom and inward daring gave fire and expression, notwithstanding its light grey colour. A stoup of wine (for in those days it was served out from the cask in pewter flagons) was placed on the table, and each had his quaigh or bicker before him. But there was little appearance of conviviality. With folded arms, and looks of anxious expectation, they eyed each other in silence, each wrapt in his own thoughts, and holding no communication with his neighbour. At length the younger broke silence by exclaiming: What the foul fiend can detain the Master so long? He must have miscarried in his enterprise. Why did you dissuade me from going with him?

One man is enough to right his own wrong, said the taller and older personage; we venture our lives for him in coming thus far on such an errand.

You are but a craven after all, Craigengelt, answered the younger, and thats what many folk have thought you before now. But what none has dared to tell me, said Craigengelt, laying his hand on the hilt of his sword; and, but that I hold a hasty man no better than a fool, I would he paused for his companions answer.

WOULD you? said the other, coolly; and why do you not then?

Craigengelt drew his cutlass an inch or two, and then returned it with violence into the scabbard Because there is a deeper stake to be played for than the lives of twenty hare-brained gowks like you.

You are right there, said his companion, for it if were not that these forfeitures, and that last fine that the old driveller Turntippet is gaping for, and which, I dare say, is laid on by this time, have fairly driven me out of house and home, I were a coxcomb and a cuckoo to boot to trust your fair promises of getting me a commission in the Irish brigade. What have I to do with the Irish brigade? I am a plain Scotchman, as my father was before me; and my grand-aunt, Lady Girnington, cannot live for ever.

Ay, Bucklaw, observed Craigengelt, but she may live for many a long day; and for your father, he had land and living, kept himself close from wadsetters and money-lenders, paid each man his due, and lived on his own.

And whose fault is it that I have not done so too? said Bucklaw whose but the devils and yours, and such-like as you, that have led me to the far end of a fair estate? And now I shall be obliged, I suppose, to shelter and shift about like yourself: live one week upon a line of secret intelligence from Saint Germains; another upon a report of a rising in the Highlands; get my breakfast and morning draught of sack from old Jacobite ladies, and give them locks of my old wig for the Chevaliers hair; second my friend in his quarrel till he comes to the field, and then flinch from him lest so important a political agent should perish from the way. All this I must do for bread, besides calling myself a captain!

You think you are making a fine speech now, said Craigengelt, and showing much wit at my expense. Is starving or hanging better than the life I am obliged to lead, because the present fortunes of the king cannot sufficiently support his envoys? Starving is honester, Craigengelt, and hanging is like to be the end ont. But what you mean to make of this poor fellow Ravenswood, I know not. He has no money left, any more than I; his lands are all pawned and pledged, and the interest eats up the rents, and is not satisfied, and what do you hope to make by meddling in his affairs?

Content yourself, Bucklaw; I know my business, replied Craigengelt. Besides that his name, and his fathers services in 1689, will make such an acquisition sound well both at Versailles and Saint Germains, you will also please be informed that the Master of Ravenswood is a very different kind of a young fellow from you. He has parts and address, as well as courage and talents, and will present himself abroad like a young man of head as well as heart, who knows something more than the speed of a horse or the flight of a hawk. I have lost credit of late, by bringing over no one that had sense to know more than how to unharbour a stag, or take and reclaim an eyas. The Master has education, sense, and penetration.

And yet is not wise enough to escape the tricks of a kidnapper, Craigengelt? replied the younger man. But dont be angry; you know you will nto fight, and so it is as well to leave your hilt in peace and quiet, and tell me in sober guise how you drew the Master into your confidence?