Chapter 9

So pitiful a thing is suitor's state!
Most miserable man, whom wicked fate
Hath brought to Court to sue, for _had I wist_,
That few have found, and many a one hath miss'd!
Full little knowest thou, that hast not tried,
What hell it is, in sueing long to bide:
To lose good days that might be better spent;
To waste long nights in pensive discontent;
To speed to-day, to be put back to-morrow;
To feed on hope, to pine with fear and sorrow;
To have thy Prince's grace, yet want her Peers';
To have thy asking, yet wait many years;
To fret thy soul with crosses and with cares--
To eat thy heart through comfortless despairs.
To fawn, to crouch, to wait, to ride, to run,
To spend, to give, to want, to be undone.
_Mother Hubbard's Tale._

On the morning of the day on which George Heriot had prepared to
escort the young Lord of Glenvarloch to the Court at Whitehall, it may
be reasonably supposed, that the young man, whose fortunes were likely
to depend on this cast, felt himself more than usually anxious. He
rose early, made his toilette with uncommon care, and, being enabled,
by the generosity of his more plebeian countryman, to set out a very
handsome person to the best advantage, he obtained a momentary
approbation from himself as he glanced at the mirror, and a loud and
distinct plaudit from his landlady, who declared at once, that, in her
judgment, he would take the wind out of the sail of every gallant in
the presence--so much had she been able to enrich her discourse with
the metaphors of those with whom her husband dealt.

At the appointed hour, the barge of Master George Heriot arrived,
handsomely manned and appointed, having a tilt, with his own cipher,
and the arms of his company, painted thereupon.

The young Lord of Glenvarloch received the friend, who had evinced
such disinterested attachment, with the kind courtesy which well
became him.

Master Heriot then made him acquainted with the bounty of his
sovereign; which he paid over to his young friend, declining what he
had himself formerly advanced to him. Nigel felt all the gratitude
which the citizen's disinterested friendship had deserved, and was not
wanting in expressing it suitably.

Yet, as the young and high-born nobleman embarked to go to the
presence of his prince, under the patronage of one whose best, or most
distinguished qualification, was his being an eminent member of the
Goldsmiths' Incorporation, he felt a little surprised, if not abashed,
at his own situation; and Richie Moniplies, as he stepped over the
gangway to take his place forward in the boat, could not help
muttering,--"It was a changed day betwixt Master Heriot and his honest
father in the Kraemes;--but,