“It would perhaps be more truthful to say that the verses are worthy of Sir David Lyndsay. In fact, although Sir David is a greater poet than Gavin Douglas, I doubt very much if in his happiest moments he could have equalled ‘The Beggar Man.’”
In mentioning Sir David Lyndsay, Flemming had named the king’s greatest friend, and the cobbler’s desire to please could not have escaped the notice of a man much less shrewd than was James the Fifth. The king rose to his feet, checking a laugh.
“Man Flemming,” he said, “I wonder at you! Have you forgotten that Sir David Lyndsay married Janet Douglas?”
The palpable dismay on the cobbler’s countenance caused the young man to laugh outright.
“The cobbler should stick to his honesty, and not endeavour to tread the slippery path of courtiership. Flemming, if I wanted flattery I could get that up at the castle. I come down here for something better. If anything I could write were half so good as Sir David’s worst, I should be a pleased man. But I’m learning, Flemming, I’m learning. This very day some of my most powerful nobles have presented me with a respectful petition. A year ago I should have said ‘No’ before I had got to the signature of it. But now I have thanked them for their attention to affairs of State, although between me and you and that bench, Flemming, it’s a pure matter of their own greed and selfishness. So I’ve told them I will give the subject my deepest consideration, and that they shall have their answer this day fortnight. Is not that the wisdom of the serpent combined with the harmlessness of the dove?”
“It is indeed,” agreed the cobbler.
“Very well; to-morrow it shall be given out that this petition will occupy my mind for at least a week, and during that time the king is invisible to all comers, high or low. To-morrow, Flemming, you’ll get me as clean a suit of beggar’s rags as you can lay your hands on. I’ll come down here as the Master of Ballengeich, and leave these farmer’s clothes in your care. I shall pass from this door as a beggar, and come back to it in the same condition a week or ten days hence, so see that you’re at hand to receive me.”
“Does your majesty intend to go alone?”
“Entirely alone, Flemming. Bless me, do you imagine I would tramp the country as a beggar with a troop of horse at my back?”
“Your majesty would be wise to think twice of such a project,” warned the cobbler.