Chapter 5

Wherefore come ye not to court?
Certain 'tis the rarest sport;
There are silks and jewels glistening,
Prattling fools and wise men listening,
Bullies among brave men justling,
Beggars amongst nobles bustling;
Low-breath'd talkers, minion lispers,
Cutting honest throats by whispers;
Wherefore come ye not to court?
Skelton swears 'tis glorious sport.
_Skelton Skeltonizeth._

It was not entirely out of parade that the benevolent citizen was
mounted and attended in that manner, which, as the reader has been
informed, excited a gentle degree of spleen on the part of Dame
Christie, which, to do her justice, vanished in the little soliloquy
which we have recorded. The good man, besides the natural desire to
maintain the exterior of a man of worship, was at present bound to
Whitehall in order to exhibit a piece of valuable workmanship to King
James, which he deemed his Majesty might be pleased to view, or even
to purchase. He himself was therefore mounted upon his caparisoned
mule, that he might the better make his way through the narrow, dirty,
and crowded streets; and while one of his attendants carried under his
arm the piece of plate, wrapped up in red baize, the other two gave an
eye to its safety; for such was then the state of the police of the
metropolis, that men were often assaulted in the public street for the
sake of revenge or of plunder; and those who apprehended being beset,
usually endeavoured, if their estate admitted such expense, to secure
themselves by the attendance of armed followers. And this custom,
which was at first limited to the nobility and gentry, extended by
degrees to those citizens of consideration, who, being understood to
travel with a charge, as it was called, might otherwise have been
selected as safe subjects of plunder by the street-robber.

As Master George Heriot paced forth westward with this gallant
attendance, he paused at the shop door of his countryman and friend,
the ancient horologer, and having caused Tunstall, who was in
attendance, to adjust his watch by the real time, he desired to speak
with his master; in consequence of which summons, the old Time-meter
came forth from his den, his face like a bronze bust, darkened with
dust, and glistening here and there with copper filings, and his
senses so bemused in the intensity of calculation, that he gazed on
his friend the goldsmith for a minute before he seemed perfectly to
comprehend who he was, and heard him express his invitation to David
Ramsay, and pretty Mistress Margaret, his daughter, to dine with him
next day at noon, to meet with a noble young countrymen, without
returning any answer.

"I'll make thee speak, with a murrain to thee," muttered Heriot