University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

When Birds begin to nod upon the Bough,
And the Green Swaird grows damp with falling Dew,
While good Sir William is to rest retir'd,
The Gentle Shepherd tenderly inspir'd,
Walks through the Broom with Roger ever leel,
To meet, to comfort Meg, and tak Farewell.

Rog.
Wow! but I'm cadgie, and my Heart lowps light,
O, Mr. Patrick! ay your Thoughts were right:
Sure Gentle Fowk are farther seen than we,
That naithing ha'e to brag of Pedigree.
My Jenny now, wha brak my Heart this Morn,
Is perfect yielding,—sweet,—and nae mair Scorn.
I spake my Mind—she heard—I spake again,
She smil'd—I kiss'd—I woo'd, nor woo'd in vain.

Pat.
I'm glad to hear't—But O my Change this Day
Heaves up my Joy, and yet I'm sometimes wae.
I've found a Father, gently kind as brave,
And an Estate that lifts me 'boon the lave.
With Looks all Kindness, Words that Love confest;
He all the Father to my Soul exprest,
While close he held me to his manly Breast.
Such were the Eyes, he said, thus smil'd the Mouth
Of thy lov'd Mother, Blessing of my Youth;
Who set too soon!—And while he Praise bestow'd,
Adown his graceful Cheek a Torrent flow'd.
My new-born Joys, and this his tender Tale,
Did, mingled thus, o'er a' my Thoughts prevail:
That speechless lang, my late kend Sire I view'd,
While gushing Tears my panting Breast bedew'd.
Unusual Transports made my Head turn round,
Whilst I my self with rising Raptures found
The happy Son of ane sae much renown'd.
But he has heard!—too faithful Symon's Fear
Has brought my Love for Peggy to his Ear:
Which he forbids.—Ah! this confounds my Peace,
While thus to beat, my Heart shall sooner cease.

Rog.
How to advise ye, troth I'm at a stand:
But were't my Case, ye'd clear it up aff hand.

Pat.
Duty, and haflen Reason plead his Cause:
But what cares Love for Reason, Rules and Laws?
Still in my Heart my Shepherdess excells,
And Part of my new Happiness repells.

Rog.
Enjoy them baith.—Sir William will be won:
Your Peggy's bonny;—you're his only Son.

Pat.
She's mine by Vows, and stronger Ties of Love;
And frae these Bands nae Change my Mind shall move.
I'll wed nane else; thro' Life I will be true:
But still Obedience is a Parent's Due.

Rog.
Is not our Master and your sell to stay
Amang us here?—or are ye gawn away
To London Court, or ither far aff Parts,
To leave your ain poor us with broken Hearts?

Pat.
To Edinburgh straight to-morrow we advance,
To London neist, and afterwards to France,
Where I must stay some Years, and learn—to dance,
And twa three other Monky-tricks.—That done,
I come hame struting in my red-heel'd Shoon.
Then 'tis design'd, when I can well behave,
That I maun be some petted Thing's dull Slave,
For some few Bags of Cash, that I wat weel
I nae mair need nor Carts do a third Wheel.
But Peggy, dearer to me than my Breath,
Sooner than hear sic News, shall hear my Death.

Rog.
They wha have just enough, can soundly sleep;
The O'ercome only fashes Fowk to keep.—
Good Mr. Patrick, tak your ain Tale hame.

Pat.
What was my Morning Thought, at Night's the same.
The Poor and Rich but differ in the Name.
Content's the greatest Bliss we can procure
Frae 'boon the Lift.—Without it Kings are poor.

Rog.
But an Estate like your's yields braw Content,
When we but pick it scantly on the Bent:
Fine Claiths, saft Beds, sweet Houses, and red Wine,
Good Chear, and witty Friends, whene'er ye dine;
Obeysant Servants, Honour, Wealth and Ease:
Wha's no content with these, are ill to please.

Pat.
Sae Roger thinks, and thinks not far amiss;
But mony a Cloud hings hovering o'er the Bliss.
The Passions rule the Roast;—and, if they're sowr,
Like the lean Ky, will soon the fat devour.
The Spleen, tint Honour, and affronted Pride,
Stang like the sharpest Goads in Gentry's Side,
The Gouts and Gravels, and the ill Disease,
Are frequentest with Fowk o'erlaid with Ease;
While o'er the Moor the Shepherd, with less Care,
Enjoys his sober Wish, and halesome Air.

Rog.
Lord, Man! I wonder ay, and it delights
My Heart, whene'er I hearken to your Flights.
How gat ye a' that Sense, I fain wad lear,
That I may easier Disappointments bear.

Pate.
Frae Books, the Wale of Books, I gat some Skill;
These best can teach what's real good and ill.
Ne'er grudge ilk Year to ware some Stanes of Cheese,
To gain these silent Friends that ever please.

Rog.
I'll do't, and ye shall tell me which to buy:
Faith I'se ha'e Books, tho' I should sell my Ky.
But now let's hear how you're design'd to move,
Between Sir William's Will, and Peggy's Love.

Pat.
Then here it lyes;—His Will maun be obey'd;
My Vows I'll keep, and she shall be my Bride:
But I some time this last Design maun hide.
Keep you the Secret close, and leave me here;
I sent for Peggy, yonder comes my Dear.

Rog.
Pleas'd that ye trust me with the Secret, I
To wyle it frae me a' the Deils defy.

Exit Roger.
Patie
solus.
Enter Peggy.

Peg.
I dare not think sae high: I now repine
At the unhappy Chance, that made not me
A gentle Match, or still a Herd kept thee.
Wha can, withoutten Pain, see frae the Coast
The Ship that bears his All like to be lost?
Like to be carry'd, by some Rever's Hand,
Far frae his Wishes, to some distant Land?

Pat.
Ne'er quarrel Fate, whilst it with me remains,
To raise thee up, or still attend these Plains.
My Father has forbid our Loves, I own:
But Love's superior to a Parent's Frown.
I Falshood hate: Come, kiss thy Cares away;
I ken to love, as well as to obey.
Sir William's generous; leave the Task to me,
To make strict Duty and true Love agree.

Peg.
Speak on!—speak ever thus, and still my Grief;
But short I dare to hope the fond Relief.
New Thoughts a gentler Face will soon inspire,
That with nice Air swims round in Silk Attire:
Then I, poor me!—with Sighs may ban my Fate,
When the young Laird's nae mair my heartsome Pate;
Nae mair again to hear sweet Tales exprest,
By the blyth Shepherd that excell'd the rest:
Nae mair be envy'd by the tattling Gang,
When Patie kiss'd me, when I danc'd or sang:
Nae mair, alake! we'll on the Meadow play!
And rin haff breathless round the Rucks of Hay;
As aftimes I have fled from thee right fain,
And fawn on purpose, that I might be tane.
Nae mair around the Foggy-know I'll creep,
To watch and stare upon thee, while asleep.
But hear my Vow—'twill help to give me Ease;
May sudden Death, or deadly sair Disease,
And warst of Ills attend my wretched Life,
If e'er to ane, but you, I be a Wife.

Pat.
Sure Heaven approves—and be assur'd of me,
I'll ne'er gang back of what I've sworn to thee:
And Time, tho' Time maun interpose a while,
And I maun leave my Peggy and this Isle;
Yet Time, nor Distance, nor the fairest Face,
If there's a fairer, e'er shall fill thy Place.
I'd hate my rising Fortune, should it move
The fair Foundation of our faithful Love.
If at my Foot were Crowns and Scepters laid,
To bribe my Soul frae thee, delightful Maid;
For thee I'd soon leave these inferior Things
To sic as have the Patience to be Kings.
Wherefore that Tear? Believe, and calm thy Mind.

Peg.
I greet for Joy, to hear thy Words sae kind.
When Hopes were sunk, and nought but mirk Despair
Made me think Life was little worth my Care,
My Heart was like to burst; but now I see
Thy generous Thoughts will save thy Love for me.
With Patience then I'll wait each wheeling Year,
Hope Time away, till thou with Joy appear;
And all the while I'll study gentler Charms,
To make me fitter for my Traveller's Arms:
I'll gain on Uncle Glaud,—he's far frae Fool,
And will not grudge to put me thro' ilk School;
Where I may Manners learn—

Pat.
—That's wisely said,
And what he wares that Way shall be well paid.
Tho' without a' the little Helps of Art,
Thy native Sweets might gain a Prince's Heart:
Yet now, lest in our Station, we offend,
We must learn Modes, to Innocence unkend;
Affect aftimes to like the thing we hate,
And drap Serenity, to keep up State:
Laugh, when we're sad; speak, when we've nought to say;
And, for the Fashion, when we're blyth, seem wae:
Pay Compliments to them we aft have scorn'd;
Then scandalize them, when their Backs are turn'd.

Peg.
If this is Gentry, I had rather be
What I am still—But I'll be ought with thee.

Pat.
No, no, my Peggy, I but only jest
With Gentry's Apes; for still amangst the best,
Good Manners give Integrity a Bleez,
When native Vertues join the Arts to please.

Peg.
Since with nae hazard, and sae small Expence,
My Lad frae Books can gather siccan Sense;
Then why, ah! why should the tempestuous Sea,
Endanger thy dear Life, and frighten me?
Sir William's cruel, that wad force his Son,
For Watna-whats, sae great a Risk to run.

Pat.
There is nae doubt, but travelling does improve,
Yet I would shun it for thy Sake, my Love.
But soon as I've shook aff my Landwart Cast,
In foreign Cities, hame to thee I'll haste.

Peg.
With every setting Day, and rising Morn,
I'll kneel to Heaven, and ask thy safe Return.
Under that Tree, and on the Suckler Brae,
Where aft we wont, when Bairns, to run and play;
And to the Hissel-shaw where first ye vow'd
Ye wad be mine, and I as eithly trow'd,
I'll aften gang, and tell the Trees and Flowers,
With Joy, that they'll bear Witness I am yours.

Pat.
My Dear, allow me, frae thy Temples fair,
A shining Ringlet of thy flowing Hair;
Which, as a Sample of each lovely Charm,
I'll aften kiss, and wear about my Arm.

Peg.
Were't in my Power with better Boons to please,
I'd give the best I could with the same Ease;
Nor wad I, if thy Luck had faln to me,
Been in ae Jot less generous to thee.

Pat.
I doubt it not; but since we've little Time
To ware't on Words, wad border on a Crime:
Love's safter Meaning better is exprest,
When 'tis with Kisses on the Heart imprest.

Exeunt.