"But a deuced poor one, sometimes, Mr. Ichabod. I am about to be married to Lilian, of Bruntisfield, and thou shalt espouse us, because the citizens hold thee to be their first preacher, and it will increase my influence among them." "But, my Lord," began Mr. Ichabod, bowing. "_But_ me nothing--'tis my non-attendance at kirk and my old tricks you aim at--pho! I am a thorough Reformado--but, Mr. Ichabod, hast never a drop of wine about thee?--'tis a hot forenoon." "My dwelling contains nothing but water, and it is a plack the runlet in these dear years; but, my Lord," continued the divine, after sundry gasps and contortions of visage, "if I lend all my influence to render popular this intended espousal, whilk I perceive to be the main object of your visit, may I crave your Lordship's favour in another particular?" "Command me in all things save my purse, for 'tis a mere vacuum, if thy philosophy will admit of such a thing. Say forth, my Apostle!" "I love the maiden called Meinie Elshender--yea, I love her powerfully with the carnal love of this world, and the maiden is not altogether indisposed to view me favourably." "Zounds!" said Clermistonlee, while the minister looked complacently down on his long spindle shanks; "in the name of mischief, who is Meinie Elshender?" "Handmaiden to the young Madam Lilian, who views me as an abomination----" "By all the devils, thou shalt have her, _bongré, malgré_, and after I am fairly wedded, the best kirk in the Lothians to boot--even should I make Juden shoot the present incumbent." "Heaven reward these generous promises," replied Ichabod, with a smile of incredulity. "Well it is that the maiden hath escaped the snares of her first lover, who was a soldier of Antichrist--a musqueteer of the bluidy Dunbarton." "Say rather the most princely earl of the noble house of Douglas! Ha, ha--by my faith! we whigs are winning the false lemans of the cavaliers in glorious style." "And now, my lord, I have one other boon to crave," said Ichabod, producing a tattered and dog-eared MS. from a bunker. "This is a book of which doubtless your Lordship hath heard; my _Bombshell aimet at the taile of the Great Beast_." "Oh, the devil take thy bombshell--" "Shame, my lord. It proveth that Jonah--" "Swallowed the whale; eh, Master Ichabod?" said the gay lord, pirouetting about and laughing boisterously. "Oh, my Lord, for a centiloquy--" "Ha, ha! a what?" "A hundredfold discourse, to convince thee of the crime of this irreverence and irreligion." "I crave pardon, but what do you want, eh?" "Your Lordship's subscription; 'tis to be published in the imprinting press in the Parliament Close, whenever new irons are brought over from Holland."