Discworld – Guards! Guards! (Terry Pratchett)

By mid-morning the streets were packed, Vimes had docked Nobby a day's salary for waving a flag, and an air of barbed gloom settled over the Yard, like a big black cloud with occasional flashes of lightning in it.

" 'Get up in a high place', " muttered Nobby. "That's all very well to say."

"I was looking forward to lining the streets," said Colon. "I'd have got a good view."

"You were going on about privilege and the rights of man the other night," said Nobby accusingly.

"Yes, well, one of the privileges and rights of this man is getting a good view," said the sergeant. "That's all I'm saying."

"I've never seen the captain in such a filthy temper," said Nobby. "I liked it better when he was on the drink. I reckon he's-"

"You know, I think Errol is really ill," said Carrot.

They turned towards the fruit basket.

"He's very hot. And his skin looks all shiny."

"What's the right temperature for a dragon?" said Colon.

"Yeah. How do you take it?" said Nobby.

"I think we ought to ask Lady Ramkin to have a look at him," said Carrot. "She knows about these things."

"No, she'll be getting ready for the coronation. We shouldn't go disturbing her," said Colon. He stretched out his hand to Errol's quivering flanks. "I used to have a dog that-arrgh! That's not hot, that's boiling!"

"I've offered him lots of water and he just won't touch it. What are you doing with that kettle, Nobby?"

Nobby looked innocent. "Well, I thought we might as well make a cup of tea before we go out. It's a shame to waste-"

"Take it off him!"