36 T H E W I T T Y E X P L O I T S, &c. him to give his horſe, at the door, half a peck of oyſters: You mean oats, Sir: No, no, ſays George, it is oyſters and baſe is that horſe that will not eat oyſters. The people, at the fire hearing this, all ſtarted up and ran to the door to ſew the horſe eating oyſters; the moment they left their ſeats, George took the opportunity to plant himſelf before the fire, with a table and cloth beſide him. In a little they came back again one by one, ſaying, This horſe will eat no oyſters: Well, well, ſays George, he is either too full or too ſaucy; ſo you may bring them in, and I will eat them myſelf.
Now George being old, and highly advanced in years; finding his natural ſtrength, and ſtate of health daily decaying, he petitioned King James to let him return to Scotland, for to viſit his friends, and the land of his nativity, which he moſt willingly granted? (not thinking his deſign was never to return,) for George had a great
deſign to reſign his ſoul and breath in that place of the world where he received them; and that his body and bones might be laid amongſt his anceſtors, which was counted a great honour in former ages.
So accordingly George came to the pariſh of Killearn, in the weſt of Scotland, where he viſited all his friends and relations before his death, during which time the king ſent ſeveral meſſages for him
to return, in all the haſte he could; but he absolutely refuſed, telling him, That he would never ſee him again; which grieved the King very much to hear him expreſs himſelf in that manner. After this the king ſent him a letter, threatening him very ſharply, if he did not appear in London in the space of twenty days, he would ſend his Lyon-heralds with a party, who would bring him to London, whether he would or not. Unto which, as an anſwer, George ſent him a famous letter of admonition, both anent the government of his kingdoms, and the well-being of his ſoul, which cauſed the King weep very bitterly when he read it over with the following verſe,
My honour'd Leige and Sovereign King,
Of your boaſting great, I dread nothing,
On your ſend and favour I'll fairly venture;
E'er that day I'LL BE, where few Kings will enter.
F I N 1 S.
