Cardinal Beaton A Drama, in Five Acts |
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| 4. | SCENE IV. |
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 | Cardinal Beaton |  |
SCENE IV.
—Abbey Church-yard.Enter Gordonsha, Drumrawk, Blacklaws, and other Tenants of Melvil and Duncan.
GORDONSHA.
Weel, here we're met again, lads, for some braw wark,
and by special appountment; mair chappin' and lounderin',
I houp, ere we gang down to the coast.
DRUMRAWK.
We maun e'en do as we're bidden, Gordonsha—but I
would fain houp our wark's no to be o'the bluidy sort—
I'm no fond o'bluid. I wadnae gie a gill o'gin for a barrelfu'
o'bluid ony day, mickle mair on a raw druikit mornin'
like this.—But it's a guid for the beer-seed this rook.
Fient a fear for the beer-seed, but mickle for oursells,
I misdoubt,—what wi' thae aprons an' lime-troughs, and
ither mason trumphery, I dread we'll get into some scrape.
GORDONSHA.
I'se get into nae scrape, as lang as my twa arms can
wallop frae my shouthers. I'm a man to bring ither folk
into scrapes, takin' aye tent to keep clear o'them mysel, at
least wi' God's will.
DRUMRAWK.
I houp it'll a'end weel; but I wad fain be i'my bit
housie i'the muirs again. Fient a wink hae I sleepit this
hale night; what wi' seeking backets and mason's auld
duds, I've had a sair traikit night o't.
GORDONSHA.
Mair a fool you, man—I've been weel enterteen'd by
my auld friend Bob Kennedy, that bides i'the Market-street,
yonder—we'd a half-mutchkin o'punch thegither,
though he's no a drinkin' man, Robert; but he's like mysel,
nae friend to the Cardinal and Bishops. He lent me
this bonnie auld apron, and his warst workin'-jacket, forby
this crunkled waur-for-the-wear hat, and his best hammer
a mason as ony workin'-chap in a'St Ayles's.
DRUMRAWK.
Tie up your apron right there, Blacklaws; it's hingin'
ajee, no like a man o'real stane-an'-lime business—you'll
mak us be suspeckit, man.
BLACKLAWS.
I think I set my apron and my mare as weel as you
your apparel. I've a marefu' o'as good lime here as ever
cam out o'a lime-kill—there's nae fear o'it—it'll never be
suspeckit. It might hae done for Solomon's Temple, let
alane Beaton's brothel-house.—But here comes the Laird.
MELVIL,
(approaching.)
Ho, lads, come forth! the time requires you now;
Your brethren of the trowel, now uproused
To labour by the crowing of the cock,
Assemble thick before the Castle-gate,
In expectation of the lower'd bridge;
Come, let us join them, that amid this crowd
Unnoticed we may enter to the work.
GORDONSHA.
Now, now, let's be gane. Blacklaws, up wi' your auld
mare there.
Ay, ay, here I maun tak up the auld mare, but at Airdrie
the auld mare maun tak up me. Words are a'whumbled
wi' this transmugrifyin' wark.
DRUMRAWK.
I houp we'll hae a gude affcome.
GORDONSHA.
I'm for the good oncome, deil a fear for the affcome.
[Exeunt.
| Cardinal Beaton | |