“For Scotland!—why, art thou mad, man?” said Nigel; “canst thou not tarry to go down with me?”
“I could be of little service,” said Richie, “since you purpose to hire another page and groom.”
“Why, thou jealous ass,” said the young lord, “will not thy load of duty lie the lighter?—Go, take thy breakfast, and drink thy ale double strong, to put such absurdities out of thy head—I could be angry with thee for thy folly, man—but I remember how thou hast stuck to me in adversity.”
“Adversity, my lord, should never have parted us,” said Richie; “methinks, had the warst come to warst, I could have starved as gallantly as your lordship, or more so, being in some sort used to it; for, though I was bred at a flasher's stall, I have not through my life had a constant intimacy with collops.”
“Now, what is the meaning of all this trash?” said Nigel; “or has it no other end than to provoke my patience? You know well enough, that, had I twenty serving-men, I would hold the faithful follower that stood by me in my distress the most valued of them all. But it is totally out of reason to plague me with your solemn capriccios.”
“My lord,” said Richie, “in declaring your trust in me, you have done what is honourable to yourself, if I may with humility say so much, and in no way undeserved on my side. Nevertheless, we must part.”
“Body of me, man, why?” said Lord Nigel; “what reason can there be for it, if we are mutually satisfied?”
“My lord,” said Richie Moniplies, “your lordship's occupations are such as I cannot own or countenance by my presence.”
“How now, sirrah!” said his master, angrily.
“Under favour, my lord,” replied his domestic, “it is unequal dealing to be equally offended by my speech and by my silence. If you can hear with patience the grounds of my departure, it may be, for aught I know, the better for you here and hereafter—if not, let me have my license of departure in silence, and so no more about it.”