Upon that morning, however, while he was dressing, there came a rap upon
his door, and when he opened it he saw the Prince's treasurer, a foppish
gentleman, very dainty in his words.

"Mr. Warner," said the treasurer, "his Highness has hinted to me his
desires; he has moulded them into the shape of a prayer or a request."

"In a word, he has bidden you," said Wogan.

"Fie, sir! There's a barbarous and improper word, an ill-sounding word;
upon my honour, a word without dignity or merit and banishable from
polite speech. His Highness did most prettily entreat me with a fine
gentleness of condescension befitting a Sunday or a New Year's Day to
bring and present and communicate from hand to hand a gift,--a most
incomparable proper gift, the mirror and image of his most incomparable
proper friendship."

Wogan bowed, and requested the treasurer to enter and be seated the
while he recovered his breath.

"Nay, Mr. Warner, I must be concise, puritanical, and unadorned in my
language as any raw-head or bloody-bones. The cruel, irrevocable moments
pass. I could consume an hour, sir, before I touched as I may say the
hem of the reason of my coming."

"Sir, I do not doubt it," said Wogan.

"But I will not hinder you from forthwith immediately and at once
incorporating with your most particular and inestimable treasures this
jewel, this turquoise of heaven's own charming blue, encased and
decorated with gold."