‘You have waived it—refused it—denied it—and betrayed it.’
‘Ah, never, never!’
‘Twice, sir, to my bitter cost.’
He laughed harshly to hear such words. ‘Sirs,’ he said to those with him, ‘I see how it is. Rumour for once is no fibster.’
‘Come away, my lord, come your ways,’ said old Livingstone. ‘You will do harm to yourself.’
He cried out, ‘None shall dictate to me in this realm.’
And then Moray said, ‘Sir, I would seriously advise you—for your good——’
The King stared at him, gibed at him. ‘If you seek my good, my lord, God judge me, ’tis for the first time.’
‘It is the good of us all,’ said Moray. ‘Her Grace is overwrought. Let me entreat your patience. This coming is something sudden, though so long attended. In the morning maybe——’