"Here is penance and restraint, yonder is joy and freedom." "Thou hast prevailed, most sage counsellor," replied Rothsay; "but mark you, it shall be the last of my frolics." "I trust so," replied Ramorny; "for, when at liberty, you may make a good accommodation with your royal father." "I will write to him, Ramorny.

Get the writing materials.

No, I cannot put my thoughts in words--do thou write." "Your Royal Highness forgets," said Ramorny, pointing to his mutilated arm.
"Ah! that cursed hand of yours.

What can we do ?" "So please your Highness," answered his counsellor, "if you would use the hand of the mediciner, Dwining--he writes like a clerk." "Hath he a hint of the circumstances?
Is he possessed of them ?" "Fully," said Ramorny; and, stepping to the window, he called Dwining from the boat.
He entered the presence of the Prince of Scotland, creeping as if he trode upon eggs, with downcast eyes, and a frame that seemed shrunk up by a sense of awe produced by the occasion.
"There, fellow, are writing materials.

I will make trial of you; thou know'st the case--place my conduct to my father in a fair light." Dwining sat down, and in a few minutes wrote a letter, which he handed to Sir John Ramorny.
"Why, the devil has aided thee, Dwining," said the knight.