The Queen's Maries: A Romance of HolyroodWhyte-Melville, G. J. (George John)
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The Queen's Maries: A Romance of Holyrood
Whyte-Melville, G. J. (George John)
Mary, Queen of Scots, 1542-1587 -- Fiction
‘Is the holy man not ready yet?’ said he, with something of irony in
his tone. ‘Ho! bid the knaves bring in the food. Cowl or cassock,
rochet and stole, or black Geneva gown, not one of them but comes to
corn as kindly as the longest-legged borderer that ever lifted a spear.
Bid them serve, Dick, in the devil’s name.’
‘Nay, James Hepburn,’ said a deep, stern voice at the earl’s elbow,
‘not in the name of the evil one, but in His from whom cometh all good.
Bless the food,’ he added, stretching both hands over the board which
was now spread, and shutting his eyes reverently while he prayed:
‘Bless those good things which are the product of thrift and honest
industry, and may every morsel turn to gall on the lip, and poison in
the breast, that is wrested by violence and bloodshed from the store of
the widow and the fatherless!’
‘Amen!’ ejaculated Bothwell, without pretending to conceal the sneer
on his lip, as he took his seat; whilst his retainers, glancing with
a comical mixture of respect and astonishment at a man who dared to
address their formidable chief in accents of reproach, seemed uncertain
how to receive a blessing of such doubtful import on the border. The
obvious course was to fall to without further ceremony; and soon the
clatter of knives and drinking-horns drowned all qualms of conscience,
if indeed such were experienced; ‘Dick-o’-the-Cleugh’ merely remarking,
as he filled his trencher, ‘that if all the beef in the larder that was
_lifted_ behoved to turn to gall, there wou’d be no want o’ mustard for
a whiley in Liddesdale.’
Evidently putting a strong constraint on himself, the earl proceeded
to entertain his guest with marked distinction and courtesy. Indeed,
after a time, the stately bearing and obvious sincerity of the man
could not fail to produce a favourable effect; and though Bothwell, for
political reasons, was disposed to court his good opinion, he could not
but confess to himself, that under that black robe and grave exterior,
lurked a spirit equal in point of courage, and far superior in energy,
perseverance, and force of character, to his own.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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