I said it in all honest simplicity, meaning only to excuse myself for the disrespect I had shown to the Duke; but I phrased the sentence most vilely, for I said: "When His Royal Highness questioned me, Sir, I had to speak the truth." Monmouth burst into a roar, and a moment later the King followed with a more subdued but not less thorough merriment.

When his mirth subsided he said, "True, Mr Dale.

I am a King, and no man is bound to speak truth to me.
Nor, by heaven--and there's a compensation--I to any man!" "Nor woman," said Monmouth, looking at the ceiling in apparent absence of mind.
"Nor even boy," added the King, with an amused glance at his son.

"Well, Mr Dale, can you serve me and this conscience of yours also ?" "Indeed I cannot doubt it, Sir," said I.
"A man's king should be his conscience," said the King.
"And what should be conscience to the King, Sir ?" asked Monmouth.
"Why, James, a recognition of what evil things he may bring into the world, if he doesn't mind his ways." Monmouth saw the hit, and took it with pretty grace, bending and kissing the King's hand.
"It is difficult, Mr Dale, to serve two masters," said the King, turning again to me.
"Your Majesty is my only master," I began; but the King interrupted me, going on with some amusement: "Yet I should like to have seen my brother." "Let him serve me, Sir," cried Monmouth.

"For I am firm in my love of these liberties, aye, and of the Reformed Religion." "I know, James, I know," nodded the King.