“Biennium dicis? Bene, bene, optume factum est—non uno Die, quod dicunt,—intelligisti, domine glenvarlochiensis? Aha!”
Nigel replied by a reverent bow, and the king, turning to those behind him, said—
“Adolescens quidem ingenui vultus ingenuique pudoris.” Then resumed his learned queries. “Et quid hodie lugdunenses loquuntur—vossius vester nihilne novi scripsit?—nihil certe, quod doleo, typis recenter editit.”
“Valet quidem vossius, rex benevole.” replied Nigel, “ast senex veneratissimus annum agit, ni fallor, septuagesimum.”
“Virum, mehercle, vix tam grandaevum crediderim,” replied the monarch. “et vorstius iste?—arminii improbi successor aeque ac sectator—herosne adhuc, ut cum homero loquar, [ZOOS ESTI KAI EPI THONI DERKOV]?” text in Greek
Nigel, by good fortune, remembered that Vorstius, the divine last mentioned in his Majesty's queries about the state of Dutch literature, had been engaged in a personal controversy with James, in which the king had taken so deep an interest, as at length to hint in his public correspondence with the United States, that they would do well to apply the secular arm to stop the progress of heresy by violent measures against the Professor's person—a demand which their Mighty Mightinesses' principles of universal toleration induced them to elude, though with some difficulty. Knowing all this, Lord Glenvarloch, though a courtier of only five minutes' standing, had address enough to reply—
“Vivum quidem, haud diu est, hominem videbam—vigere autem quis dicat qui sub fulminibus eloquentiae tuae, rex magne, jamdudum pronus jacet, et prostratus?”
[Footnote: Lest any lady or gentleman should suspect there is aught of mystery concealed under the sentences printed in Italics, they will be pleased to understand that they contain only a few commonplace Latin phrases, relating to the state of letters in Holland, which neither deserve, nor would endure, a literal translation.]
This last tribute to his polemical powers completed James's happiness, which the triumph of exhibiting his erudition had already raised to a considerable height.
He rubbed his hands, snapped his fingers, fidgeted, chuckled, exclaimed—“Euge! Belle! Optime!” and turning to the Bishops of Exeter and Oxford, who stood behind him, he said.—“Ye see, my lords, no bad specimen of our Scottish Latinity, with which language we would all our subjects of England were as well embued as this, and other youths of honourable birth, in our auld kingdom; also, we keep the genuine and Roman pronunciation, like other learned nations on the continent, sae that we hold communing with any scholar in the universe, who can but speak the Latin tongue; whereas ye, our learned subjects of England, have introduced into your universities, otherwise most learned, a fashion of pronouncing like unto the 'nippit foot and clippit foot' of the bride in the fairy tale, whilk manner of speech, (take it not amiss that I be round with you) can be understood by no nation on earth saving yourselves; whereby Latin, quoad anglos, ceaseth to be communis lingua, the general dragoman, or interpreter, between all the wise men of the earth.”