University of Virginia Library

A Pastorall Eglogue betweene Cuddie and Rowie.

Rowie.
Wele mett is Cuddie man of mickle la'er,
And mare he leues may hee haue ever mare,
For hee's a bonnie ging.

Cuddie.
Rowie for shame
Why doest thou ruse me, Thou art far to blame;
Smaw is my la'er, my knawledge lile worth,
When sike an ane as Rowie bouteth forth.

Rowie.
Ha Cuddie, but if anie did but mell
And tauke sae barely on thee but the sell,
Wele siker I'se that thou would pout full soure,
And ought or laug there would be capps ath floor.

Cuddie.
Thou's far misled; if I were sike an ane
I reede thee Rowie, I cudd haue a Swaine
A buxom Hussie, that for tougher and good
Ther's nane her fallow, and I her ha woed,
And many laikings has shee tane fra me,
Yet whan wee sud be yoak'd it will not be.

Rowie.
Why, it's an aud sain sa, sike men as thou
That knaws the maste, knawes lile how to wooe;
For I haue ane a Neibour wonning here
wha has a sonn that nere this dozen yere
Has bene at farran Scules, and now his Dad
Crankie and worne wad haue this Clarkly lad
To boun him to a Wife, and sooth to say
My daughter Tibb is shee that hee wad ha.
But sike a wooing (Cuddie) seld was sene,
He will not tell my Lasse what he doe's mene,
But taukes of Starres, and clipses of the Sun,
An on a Man stands staringith the Moone,
Of wether-gaws and many sike as these;

Cuddie.
But wele I wate these will not Tibbie please.

Rowie.
Na Cuddie na, shee's but an ingrant thing,
An lile recks for aw his coniuring:
Ya I may sa thus lang hee sought the wance,
And I nere saw him busse her mare than ance.

Cuddie.
The mickle Lummer's swaimish;

Rowie.
Hee's indede,
But twill be lang ere sike a Milk-sopp spede:
Hee that wull woo and win wha he does wooe,
Mun faune on her hee makes his suite vnto,
Ilke Morne and Even hee mun his seruice doe,
And be right blith, an shee wull tak it too;
Bukes make not Lovers wise, for hee that can
Put himself forwardst is the speeding man.

Cuddie.
Now is I wele avis'd, and sees how lang
I'ue gane astray and woo'd my Loue a-wrang;
For aw the chat I vs'd whan I dud wooe her,
Was to make knawn my learning ever to her,
And aye I thought that was the way to git her,
Whereas I fun that there was nane vnfitter,
For th'Scaffish Carri{n} wad not cum nere hand me;

Rowie.
The cause was this, Shee cud not vnderstand thee.

Cuddie.
Rowie it's true, and I may rue the day,
That I so fondly learn'd the woers way,
But wele I trow'd, but se how ill I sped,
Wha ere I wooed, I mut as frelie wed.

Rowie.
A faute wele knawn 'mang th'trimmer gang of men
Wha thinke whare they get ane they may get ten,
But we sall find, though they'r na chip the wiser,
These elvish Harlottries are oft the nicer.

Cuddie.
Alesse for wae, I nere knew anie faire,
But trow'd themsels far fairer than they were;
For this's a true said Saw'mang womanhood,
“Shee knaws but lile that knaws not to be proud.

Rowie.
Ruse women Cuddie, if thou meane to spede,
For kindlie words wull stand thee in good stede;
They are th'weaker ging, and yet we see
They oft-time proue to be as strang as wee.

Cuddie.
In will they are.

Rowie.
Then Cuddie buckle still
Sine they are strangst in wull, to doe their will.