University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

While Peggy laces up her Bosom fair,
With a blew Snood Jenny binds up her Hair;
Glaud by his Morning Ingle takes a Beek,
The rising Sun shines motty thro' the Reek,
A Pipe his Mouth; the Lasses please his Een,
And now and than his Joke maun interveen.

Glaud.
I wish, my Bairns, it may keep fair till Night;
Ye do not use sae soon to see the Light.
Nae doubt now ye intend to mix the thrang,
To take your Leave of Patrick or he gang.
But do ye think that now when he's a Laird,
That he poor Landwart Lasses will regard?

Jen.
Tho' he's young Master now, I'm very sure
He has mair Sense than slight auld Friends, tho' poor.
But yesterday he ga'e us mony a Tug,
And kiss'd my Cousin there frae Lug to Lug.

Glaud.
Ay, ay, nae doubt o't, and he'll do't again;
But, be advis'd, his Company refrain:
Before he, as a Shepherd, sought a Wife,
With her to live a chast and frugal Life;
But now grown gentle, soon he will forsake
Sic godly Thoughts, and brag of being a Rake.

Peg.
A Rake!—What's that?—Sure if it means ought ill,
He'll never be't; else I have tint my Skill.

Glaud.
Daft Lassie, ye ken nought of the Affair,
Ane young and good and gentle's unco' rare.
A Rake's a graceless Spark, that thinks nae Shame,
To do what like of us thinks Sin to name:
Sic are sae void of Shame, they'll never stap
To brag how aften they have had the Clap.
They'll tempt young Things, like you, with Youdith flush'd,
Syne make ye a' their Jest, when ye're debauch'd.
Be warry then, I say, and never gi'e
Encouragement, or bourd with sic as he.

Peg.
Sir William's vertuous, and of gentle Blood;
And may not Patrick too, like him, be good?

Glaud.
That's true, and mony Gentry mae than he,
As they are wiser, better are than we;
But thinner sawn: They're sae puft up with Pride,
There's mony of them mocks ilk haly Guide,
That shaws the Gate to Heaven.—I've heard my sell,
Some of them laugh at Doomsday, Sin and Hell.

Jen.
Watch o'er us, Father! Heh! that's very odd;
Sure him that doubts a Doomsday, doubts a GOD.

Glaud.
Doubt! why, they neither doubt, nor judge, nor think,
Nor hope, nor fear; but curse, debauch and drink:
But I'm no saying this, as if I thought
That Patrick to sic Gates will e'er be brought.

Peg.
Enter Madge.

Glaud.
Lend me my Staff;—Madge, lock the Outer-door,
And bring the Lasses wi' ye; I'll step before.

Exit Glaud.
Mad.
Poor Meg!—Look, Jenny, was the like e'er seen,
How bleer'd and red with greeting look her Een?
This Day her brankan Wooer takes his Horse.
To strute a gentle Spark at Edinburgh Cross;
To change his Kent, cut frae the branchy Plain,
For a nice Sword, and glancing headed Cane;
To leave his Ram-horn Spoons, and kitted Whey,
For gentler Tea, that smells like new won Hay;
To leave the Green-swaird Dance, when we gae Milk,
To rustle amang the Beauties clad in Silk.
But Meg, poor Meg! maun with the Shepherd stay,
And tak what GOD will send, in Hodden-gray.

Peg.
Dear Aunt, what need ye fash us wi' your Scorn?
That's no my Faut that I'm nae gentler born.
Gif I the Daughter of some Laird had been,
I ne'er had notic'd Patie on the Green:
Now since he rises, why should I repine?
If he's made for another, he'll ne'er be mine:
And then, the like has been, if the Decree
Designs him mine, I yet his Wife may be.

Mad.
A bonny Story, trowth!—But we delay:
Prin up your Aprons baith, and come away.

Exeunt.