Andrew Pringle, my son, having got the ticket, left us sitting, when
shortly after in came a nobleman, high in the cabinet, as I think he
must have been, and he having politely asked leave to take his tea
at our table, because of the great throng in the house, we fell into
a conversation together, and he, understanding thereby that I was a
minister of the Church of Scotland, said he thought he could help us
into a place to see the funeral; so, after he had drank his tea, he
took us with him, and got us into the Castle-yard, where we had an
excellent place, near to the Glasgow manufacturer that drank the
champaign. The drink by this time, however, had got into that poor
man's head, and he talked so loud, and so little to the purpose,
that the soldiers who were guarding were obliged to make him hold
his peace, at which he was not a little nettled, and told the
soldiers that he had himself been a soldier, and served the king
without pay, having been a volunteer officer. But this had no more
effect than to make the soldiers laugh at him, which was not a
decent thing at the interment of their master, our most gracious
Sovereign that was.
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