Speech And dying Words of John Dalgleish Lock man alias Hang-man of Edinburgh [by Alexander Pennecuik] |
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 | Speech And dying Words of John Dalgleish |  |
SPEECH And dying Words of John Dalgleish, Lock man alias Hang-man of Edinburgh.
I
When Hangie saw Death drawing near,The Carle grew in an unko' Fear,
He sight and sab'd, and shed a Tear;
Said to his Wife,
Sonsie, I find I'm ga'n Gear
Fra' this frail Life.
II
Now sin I find my Pith decay,And here, I can no longer stay
In this auld rotten Lump of Clay;
Before you all,
I'll tell my Sins, it's the best Way
For a poor Saul.
III
First, I was a Horse-Couper bred,And that's an unko' cheating Trade:
I'll tell you plainly what I did
To gain the Lour,
I ly'd an hundred Times for Bread,
Ilk a half Hour.
IV
Quoth I, this Pouney's Eight Years auld,And fre' of either Crook or Cald;
He's cliver baith in Heel and Spauld,
Fit for the Wark;
Cost me, in ready Money tald,
An Hunder Mark.
V
But now, with meikle Shame I tell,The Beast was twice as auld's my sell,
And stumbled ev'ry other Ell;
Blind of his Eyes,
What's worst of all; when e're he fell,
He dought not rise.
VI
The next Trade I took up, ye ken,Was Deacon of the Water-Men,
A Trade worth any other Ten,
In our Good-Town:
Then I had Peuther but and ben;
The Pat play'd broun.
VII
Ay when I into Kitchens came,I pouch'd up Beef and lumps of Lamb,
And Remnants of Westphalia Ham,
Or Apple Tart;
Fra' Ambries slought the other Dram,
To warm my Heart.
VIII
The Servants a' were kind to me,Gifted me a' the Kitchen-Fee
And Candle-Doups: I bore the gree
Fra' a' the rest;
At Wells I ended mony a Plea,
Which a' confest.
IX
When Water-Wives began a Pother,Cursing and cuffing one another,
With Heaps aboon them, like to smother,
A' Dirt and Clay:
Dalglish was ay a kindly Brother.
To end the Fray.
X
I had ay Money for to len,For ev'ry Hunder Pound took Ten
For yearly Interst, and ye ken,
Thro' perfect Greed,
Took up the Trade of Hanging Men
For better Bread,
XI
For Greed of Geir, I turnd Jack-catch;(For I'm an avaritious Wretch)
My Daughter lost a dainty Match,
Whan I was plac'd;
My Son lost Lear, a' save a Swatch,
Was sair disgrac'd.
XII
Na' mair a fine Parad I'll mak,In my bra Liv'ry, White and Black;
Captains and Sogers at my Back,
O! I grew faine
Na' mair Folks Neeks in Halters rack,
Alak, I'm ga'n.
XIII
Ye'll never see poor Hangie mair,Driving young Jilts with Shoulders bare:
I lash't them well, and did na' spare,
My Ten-tail'd Cat;
To lose my Post, my Heart's right sair,
It was sa' fat.
XIV
Wha in the Town could tell my Tale;I brew'd my awn strang nappie Ale,
The Fish-Wives gae me right good Sale:
Nae Gager Fellows
Came near me for to touch a Peal,
Fear'd for the Gallows.
XV
Whan a the Brewers were run dry,And Drunkards gae the wearie Cry,
What will we do, thro' Drouth we'll dy,
They minded me;
Came louping in, few Fock went by,
And blyth were we.
XVI
The Kirk on Sunday was nae thranger;Quoth they, we canna want Ale langer,
Or else we'll hang our selves for Anger,
Sae spoil my Craft.
Whan Spouse turnd fu', my Fists did bang her,
And put her daft.
XVII
He cried thro' Fear, as fu's an Egg,Death, I've a Favour for to beg,
That ye wad only gie a Fleg,
And spare my Life,
As I did to ill hanged Megg,
The Webster's Wife.
XVIII
But O! I find, it's a' in vain,My Head and Heart, and a's in pain,
I'll never see your Face again;
I sink like Leads
Let every ane gae hang their ain,
For Hangie's dead.
| Speech And dying Words of John Dalgleish | |