SCENE IV. PROLOGUE. Behind a tree upon the plain, PATIE AND PEGGY. PEGGY. O Patie! let me gang; I mauna stay ; We're baith cryed hame, and Jenny she's away. PATIE. I'm laith to part sae soon! Now we're alane; And Roger he's away with Jenny gane; They're as content, for aught I hear or see, To be alane themselves, I judge, as we. Here, where primroses thickest paint the green, Hard by this little burnie let us lean. Hark how the lav'rocks chant aboon our heads; How saft the westlin winds sough through the reeds! PEGGY. The scented meadows, birds, and healthy breeze, For aught I ken, may mair than Peggy please. PATIE. Ye wrang me sair, to doubt my being kind! In speaking sae, ye ca' me dull and blind, Gif I cou'd fancy aught's sae sweet or fair As my sweet Meg, or worthy of my care. Thy breath is sweeter than the sweetest brier; Thy cheek and breast the finest flow'rs appear; Thy words excel the maist delightfu' notes That warble through the merle or mavis' throats. With thee I tent nae flowers that busk the field, Or ripest berries that our mountains yield; The sweetest fruits that hing upon the tree Are far inferior to a kiss of thee. PEGGY. But Patrick for some wicked end may fleech; And lambs should tremble when the foxes preach. I darna stay; ye joker, let me gang; Or swear ye'll never 'tempt to do me wrang.1 PATIE. Sooner a mother shall her fondness drap, This fool imagines, as do many sic,- To speak and act aboon their common thought: 1 The edition of 1808 reads: I darena stay; ye joker, let me gang; Your thoughts may flit, and I may thole the wrang.' PEGGY. Then keep your aith.-But mony lads will swear, And be mansworn to twa in half a-year. Now I believe ye like me wonder weel; PATIE. I'm sure I canna change; ye needna fear, Though we 're but young, I've looed ye mony a year. I mind it weel, when thou could'st hardly gang, Or lisp out words, I choosed thee frae the thrang Of a' the bairns, and led thee by the hand, Aft to the tansy know, or rashy strand; Thou smiling by my side:-I took delight To pou the rashes green, with roots sae white, Of which, as well as my young fancy cou'd, For thee I plet the flow'ry belt and snood. The gentleman thus hid in low disguise, I'll for a space, unknown, delight mine eyes With a full view of ev'ry fertile plain, Which once I lost, which now are mine again. Yet, 'midst my joy, some prospects pain renew, Whilst I my once fair seat in ruins view. Yonder, ah me! it desolately stands, Without a roof; the gates fall'n from their bands; The casements all broke down; no chimney left; The naked walls of tapestry all bereft. My stables and pavilions, broken walls, That with each rainy blast decaying falls; My gardens once adorned the most complete, With all that nature, all that art makes sweet; Where round the figured green and pebble-walks The dewy flow'rs hung nodding on their stalks ; But overgrown with nettles, docks, and brier, Here failed and broke's the rising ample shade, Where peach and nect'rine trees their branches spread, Basking in rays, and early did produce Since Heav'n too soon called home his mother fair. forth. Ye offer fair, kind Glaud; but dinna speer What may be is not fit ye yet should hear. SYMON. I'm [sure, Or this day eight days, likely, he shall learn, That our denial disna slight his bairn. GLAUD. We'll nae mair o't?-Come, gies the other bend, We'll drink their healths, whatever may it end. [Their healths gae round.] He'll soon grow better. - Elspa, haste ye, gae And fill him up a tass of usquebæ. SIR WILLIAM (starts up and speaks). Was to lang toil and trouble brought, And joy spreads o'er the plain; That knight in a few days shall bring |