John Quincy.

The American medical lexicon, on the plan of Quincy's Lexicon physico-medicum, with many retrenchments, additions, and improvements; comprising an explanation of the etymology and signification of the terms used in anatomy, physiology, surgery, materia medica, chemistry, and the practice of physic. online

. (page 3 of 5)
Online LibraryJohn QuincyThe American medical lexicon, on the plan of Quincy's Lexicon physico-medicum, with many retrenchments, additions, and improvements; comprising an explanation of the etymology and signification of the terms used in anatomy, physiology, surgery, materia medica, chemistry, and the practice of physic. → online text (page 3 of 5)
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"Wi' the brown cow to clear their een,

Snuff, crack, and tak* tlieir rest.

SYMON, GL.AUD, and ELSPA.

Gland, We anes were young oupsells — I like to se-9
The bairns lob round wi* other merrylie :
Troth, Symon, Patic's .^rown a sirappan lad,
And better looks than his I never bade ;
Amang our lads he bears the gree awa* :
And tells his tale the cleverest o* them a*.

Elspa. Poor man ! — ^he's a great comfort to us
bailh ;
God mak' him good, and hide him aj frae skaith.
He is a bairn, I'll say't, wiel worth our care.
That ga'e us ne'er vexation late or air.

Gland. I trow, good wife, if I be not mista'en,
He seems to be wi' Peggy's beauty ta'en,
And troth, my niece is a right dainty wean.
As ye wiel ken; a bonnier needna be,
!Nor better — ^l)e*t she were nae kin to me.

Symon. Ha, Glaud ! I doubt that ne*ep will be a
match.
My Patie*s wild and will be ill to catch ;
And or he were, for reasons Pll no tell,
I'd rather be mixt y\\* the mools my sell,

Glaud. AVhat reasons can ye hae ? There's nan&
I'm sure.
Unless you may east up that she's but poor ;



}



35

But gif the lassie marry to my mind,

I'll be to her as my airi Jenny kind ;

Four score of breeding ews of my ain bim^

Five ky that at ae milldng fills a kirn,

1*11 gi'e to Peggy that day she's a bride ;

By and attour, if my good luck abide.

Ten lambs, at spaining time, as lang's 1 live.

And t>ya quey cawfs I'll yearly to them give.

Elspa. Ye offer fair, kind Glaud, but dinna speer
What may be is not fit ye yet shoidd hear.

Symon, Or this day eight-days, likely he shall
learn.
That our denial disna slight his bairn.

Gland. We'll nae mair o't; — come gie's the other
bend.
We'll drink their heal<ks, whatever way it end,

[Their healths gae round.

Symon. But will ye tell me, Glaud ? By some 'tis
said.
Your niece is but afundlingy that was laid
13own at your hallen-side, ae morn in May,
Right clean row'd up, and bedded on dry hay.

ixlaud. That clatteran Madge, my titty, tells sie
flav/s.
Whene'er our Meg her cankart humour gaws.

Enter Jenny.

Jenmji O fvither, there's an aidd n«an on the green.
The fellest fortune-teller e'er was seen ^
He tents our loofs, and syne whops out a book,
Turns o'er the leaves, and gies our brows a look :
Syne tells the oddest tales that e'er ye heai^d :
ifis head is gray, and lang and gray his beai'd.
Symon. Gae bring him in, we'll hear what he can
say,
Nane shall gang hungry by my house to day.

[Exit Jenny.
put for Ills telling fortunes, troth I fear.
He kens nae mak* o' that than my gray mare.

Gland, Spae-menllheirulh of a' their fa ws I doubt.
For greater liars Eiever ran tl^ereout.



36

Metuims Jenny, hnnging in Sir fTillwitn; with them

Fatie.

Symon. Ye 're welcome, honest carle, here tak'

a seat.
Sir Will. I give ye thanks, good-man, I'se no b©

blate.
Glaud. [drinks.] Come, t'ye, friend — How far

came ye the day ?
Sir Will. I pledge ye, nibour, e'en but little way ;
Rousted wi' eild, a wee piece gate seems lang,
Twa miles or three's the maist that I do gang.
Symon. Ye're welcome liere to stay a' night wi'
me.
And tak' sic bed and boax*d as we can gi'e.

Sir Will. That's kind unsought. — Wiel, gin ye
ha'e a bairn
Tliat ye like wiel, and wad his fortime learn,
I shall employ the farthest of my skill
To spay it faithfully, be't good or ill.

Symon. ['pointing to Patie.] Only that lad — alake !
I have nae mae,
Either to mak' me joyfu' now or wae.

Sir Will. Young man, let's see your hand ; what

gars ye sneer ?
Prt fie. Because your skill's but little worth I fear.
Sir Will. Ye cut before the point; but, Billy, bide,
I'll Avager there's a mouse-mark on your side.

Elspa. Betooch-us-to ! and wiel I wat tliat's true;
Awa, awa, the de'il's o'er grit Mi' you;
Four inch anieth his oxter is the mark,
Scarce ever seen since he first wore a sark.

Sir Will. I'll tell ye mair, if this ^oung lad be
spar'd
But a shoH: ^hilc, he'll be a brae rich laird.

Elspa. A laird ! Hear ye goodman — wiiat tliink ye

now?
Symon. I dinna ken ! Strange auld man, what art
thou ?
Fair fa' your heart, 'tis good to bode of wealth;
Come, turn tlie timmer to laird Patic's health.

\_Pati€*8 health gaes round.



37

Patie, A laird of twa good whistles and a kent^
Twa curs, my trusty tenants on the dent,
Is a* Diy great estate — and like to be :
Sae cunning carle, ne'er break your jokes on me.

Symon. Whisht, Patie — let the man look o'eryouP
liand,
Aftimes as broken a ship has come to land.

[Sir William looks a little at Patie' s handf then
counterfeits falling into a' trance, while tlieij
endeavour to lay him right,]

Mlspa. Preserve's !— the man's a warlock, or pos-
se st
\Vi' some nae good, or second-sight at least :
Where is he now ?

Glaud,- He's seeing a' that's done

In ilka place, beneath or yoiit the moon.

Elspa. These second-siglited Ibuli, his peace be
here !
See things far ail', and things to come as clear
As I can see my thumb — Wow ! can lie toll
(Speer at him, soon as lie comes to himsel!)
How soon we'll see Sir William ? Whisht, he heaves,
And speaks out broken words like ane that raves.

Symon. He'll soon grow better ; — Elspa, haste ye,
gae
And fill him up a tass of usqueb^.

Sir William staMs up and speaks,

A Knight that for a Lyon fought

Agaiiist a herd of bears.
Was to lang toil and trouble brought.

In which some thousands shares :
But now again the Lyon rares.

And joy spreads o er the plain :
The Lyon has defeat the bears.

The Knight returns again.
That Knight in a few days shaU brinu

A shepherd frae the fauld.
And shall present him to his Kiag,
D



38

A subject <rue and bauld ;
He Mr. Patrick sliall be call'd —

A}\ you that liear mc now
Hay Aviel believe >vliat I have tauld^

For it shall happen true.

iSymon. Friend, may your spacing happen soon
and wiel ;
But, faith, I'm redd you've bargain'd wi' the de'il.
To tell some tales, that fouks Avad secret keep ;
Or do you get them tald you in your sleep ?

Sir Willicim, Hovve'er 1 get them, never fash your
beard,
]\or come 1 to read fortunes for reward ;
liut I'll lay ten to ane wi' ony here.
That all i prophesy sliall soon appear.

Symon, You prophesying fouks are odd kind men !
They're here that ken and here that disna ken,
The wimpled meaning of your unco tale,
^Vhilk soon will mak a noise o'er muir and dale.
Glaud, 'Tis nae sma' sport to hear how Sym be-
lieves.
And taks't for gospel what the spaeman gives
Of flawing fortunes, whilk ho evens to Pate :
But what we wish we trow at cny rate.
Sir Willktm. \V hislit ! doubtfu' carle ; for e'er the
sun
Has driven twice down to the sea.
What 1 have said, ye shall see done

In part, or rae mair credit me.
GluuiL Wiel, bc't sac, friend ; 1 shall say nacthing
mair ;
But Pve twa sonsy lasses, young and fair,
Plump ripe for men ; I >\ ish ye cou'd ibresee
Sic fortunes for them, might prove joy to me.
Sir WiUiam, Nae mair thro' secrets can I hift^

Till darkness black the bent ;
I have but anes a day that gift,

Sae rest a while content.
^ymon. Klspa, cast on the claith^ fetch but som«
meat^



39

And of your best gar this auld stranger eat.

Sir Willimn. Delay a while your hospitable care ;
I*d rather eiijoy tliis ev'niiig calm and fair,
Aroiiml yon ruin'd tower, to fetch a walk
With you, kind friend, to have some private talk.
Symon, Soon as yon please I'll answer your de-
sire —
And, Glaud, you'll tak' your pipe beside iliQ fire ; —
We'll but gae round tlie place, and soon be back.
Syne sup together, and tak our pint and crack.
Glaud, I'll out a while, and see the young anes
play ;
My heart's still light, albeit my locks be gray.

[Exeunt,

SCENE III.

PROROGUE.

Jenny pretends an errand hame.

Young- Roger draps the rest.
To whisper out his melting flame,
And thow his lassie's breast.
Behind a bush, wiel hid frae sight, they meet ;
See, Jenny's laughing, Roger's like to greet.
Poor Shepherd !

ROGER AND JENNY.

Moger, Dear Jenny, I wad speak t'ye wad ye let.
And yet I ergh, ye 're ay say scornfu' set.

Jemiy, And what wad Roger say, if he cou'd speak ?
Am I obljg'd to guess what ye're to seek ?

Roger, Yes, ye may guess right eith for what 1
grein,
Baith by my service, sighs, and langing een :
An I maun out wi't, tho' I risk your scorn,
Ye're never frae my thouglit-, baith ev'n and mot^U.
Ah ! cou'd I looe ye less, I'd happy be.
But happier far ! cou'd ye but fancy me.

Jenny, And wlia kens, honest lad, but that I may ?
Y^e canna say that e'er 1 said ye nay,

Jloger, Alake ! my frighted heart begins to fail^



40.

Whene'er I mint to tell ye out my tale,
For fear some tighter lad, mair rich than I,
Has win your love, and near your heart may lie.

Jenny. I looe my lather, cousin Meg I love |
But to this day nae man my mind eou'd move 5
Except my kin, ilk lad's alike to me ;
And li*ae ye a' I best had keep me fr^e.

Kogev. JIow lang, dear Jenny ? — sayna that again,
What pleasure can ye tak' in giving pain ?
I'm glad however that ye yet stand free ;
Wha kens but ye may rue, and pity me !

Jenny. Ye ha'e my pity else, to see you set
On that wliilk makes our sweetness soon forget :
Wow ! but we're bonny, good, and every thing !
How sweet we breathe whene'er we kiss or sing !
But we*re nae sooner fools to gi'e consent,
'.nian we our dalfin, and tint power repent :
When prison'd in four wa's, a wife right tame,
Altho' the ilrst, the greatest drudge at hame.

IbGgci'. That only happens, when, for sake o' gear,
Ane wales a wife as he wad buy a mare;
Or when dull parents bairns together bind
Of different tempers, that can ne'er prove kind :
But love, true downright love, engages me,
(ITio' thou should scorn) still to delight in thee.
Jenny. What sugar'd words frae wooers lips can
fa' !
But girning m.arriage comes and ends them a*.
I've seen ^^i' shining fail* the morning rise,
Asd soon the sleety clouds mirk a' the skies ;
I've seen the silver spring a wliile rin clear.
And soon in mossy puddles disappear ;
Tlie bridegroom may rejoice, the bride may smile ;
But soon contentions a' tJieir joys beguile.

lioger. I've seen the morning rise »i' fairest light.
The day, unclouded, sink in calmest night :
I've seen the spring rin wimpling thro' the plain.
Increase and join tlie ocean without stain :
The bridegroom may be blyth, the bride may smile ;
Rejoice thro' life, and a' your fears beguile.
Jinny. Were I but sure ye lang would love main-
tain.



41

The fewest words my easy heart could gain 5
For I maun own, since now at last you're free,
Altho' I jokM, I lov'd your company :
And ever had a warmness in my breast.
That made ye dearer to me than the rest.

Roger. I'm happy now ! o'er happy ! had my head !
This gush of pleasure's like to he my dead.
Come to my arms ! or strike me ! I'm a' iir'd
Wi' wond'ring love ! let's kiss till we be tir'd.
Kiss, kiss ! we'll kiss the sun and starns away,
And ferly at the quick return of day !
O Jenny ! let my arms about thee twine,
And briss thy bonny breasts and lips to mine.

Tfliich may he sung as follows,

SANG Xin. Tune, Leitli Wynd.

Jenny.
Were I assur'd you'll constant prove.

You should nae mair complain j
The easy maid, beset wi' love.

Few words will quickly gain:
For I must own, now since you're free.

This too fond heart of mine
Has lang, a black-sole true to thee,

Wish'd to be pair'd wi' thine.

Roger,
I'm happy now, ah ! let my head

Upon thy breast recline !
The pleasure strikes me near-hand dead.

Is Jenny then sae kind ?

O let me briss thee to my heart !

And round my arms entwine :
Delightfu' thought, we'll never part !

Come, press thy lips to mine.

Jenny. Wi' equal joy my easy heart gives way,
To own thy wiel try'd love has won the day.
Now by these warmest kisses thou has tane.
Swear thus to love me, when by vows made anc.

Roger. I swear by fifty thousand yet to come,

D 2



42

Op may the first aue strike me deaf and dumb*
There shall not be a kindlier dawted wife
If jou agree wi' me to lead your life.

Jenny. Wicl, I agree — niest to my parent ga«,
Get his consent, he'll hardly say ye nae :
Ye ha'e what Avill commend ye to him wiel,
Auld foulvs, like them, that wants na milk and meal.

SANG XIY. Tune, O'er Bogie.

Wiel, I agree, your sure of me,

Next to my father gae ;
Make him content to gi*e consent.

He'll hardly say you nae :
For ye ha'e what he wad be at.

And v/ill commend vou wiel,
Since parents auld, think love grows cauld

"Wliere bairns want milk and meal.

Sliould he deny, I care na by.

He'd contradict in vain ;
Tho' a' my kin had said and sworn.

But thee I will ha'e nane.
I'hen never range, nor learn to change.

Like tliese in high degree ;
And if you prove faithfu' in love,

You'll find nae fault in me,

Moger. My faulds contain twice fifteen forrcw
nowt.
As mony newcal in my byres rowt;
Five pack of woo I can at Lammas sell.
Shorn frae my bob-tail'd bleeters on the fell.
Good twenty pair of blankets for our bed,
"Wi' meilde care, my thrifty mither made ;
Ilk thing that makes a heartsome house and tight
Was still her care, my father's great delight.
They left me a', whicli now gie's joy to me.
Because I can gi'e a', my dear, to thee :
And had I fifty times as meikle mair,
Nane but my Jenny shou'd the samen skair :
My love and a' is yours ; now had them fast^
And guide them as ye like, to gar them last-



43

Jenny, I'll do my best ; but see wha comes this
way,
Patie and Meg — ^besides, I mauna stay ;
Let's steal frae itlier now, and meet the morn ;
If we be seen, well dree a deal of scorn.

Roger. To where the saugh tree shades the men-

ninpool,

I'll frae the hill come down, when day grows cool :

Keep tryst and meet me tliere ; there let us meet.

To kiss and tell our love; there's nought sae sweet.

SCENE IV.

PROLOGUE.

This scene presents the Knig-ht and Syi%

Witliin a gallery of the place.
Where a' looks ruinous and grim ;

Nor has tlie Baron shown his face.
But joking wi' his shepherd leel.

Aft speers tlie gate he kens fu* wiel.

Sir WIIJ.IAM AND SYMON.

Sir William, To whom belongs this house so much
decay'd ?

Symon, To aoe that lost it, lending gen'rous aid.
To bear the head up, when rebellious Tail
Against the laws of nature did prevail.
Sir William Worthy is our master's name,
Whilk fills us a' wi' joy, now /le's come hame,

(Sir William draps his masking beard ;

Symon transported sees
The welcome knight, wi' fond regard.

And grasps him round the knees.)

Mv Master ! my dear master ! — do I breathe
To see him healthy, strong and free frae skaith!
Return'd to cheer liis wishing tenants' siglit !
To bless his son, my charge, the world's delight.
Sir William, Rise, faitliful Symon, in my arms
enjoy
A place, thy due, kind guardian of my boy ;
I came to view thy care in this disguise,



44

And am confirmM thy conduct has heen wise ;
Since still the secret thou'st securely seaPd,
And ne'er to him his real hirth reveal'd.

Symon. The due obedience to your strict com-
mand

"Was the first lock neist, my ane judgment fand

Out reasons plenty since, without estate,

A youth, though sprung frae kings, looks baugh and
blate :
Sir William. And aften vain and idly spend their
time,
'Till grown unfit for action, past their prime.
Hang on their friends — which gi'es their saids a cast.
That turns them downright beggars at tlie last.
Symon. Now, wiel I wat. Sir, you ha'e spoken
true ;
For there's laird Kytie's son that's loo'd by few ^
His father steght his fortune in his wame.
And left his heir nought but a gentle name.
He gangs about soman frae place to place.
As scrimpt of manners as of sense and grace.
Oppressing a' as punishment o' their sin
That are within his tenth degree of kin :
Rins in ilk trader's debt, wha's sae unjust
To his ain family as to gie him trust.

Sir William, Such useless branches of a common-
wealth,
Shou'd be lopt ofi", to gi'e a state mair health :

Unworthy bear reflection Symon, run

O'er a' your observations on my son ;
A parent's fondness easily finds excuse.
But do not wi' indulgence truth abuse.

Symon. To speak his praise the langest simmer

"Wad be o'er short — cou'd I them right display.
In word and deed iie can sae wiel behave.
That out of sight he runs befoi^ tlie lave :
And when there's e'er a quarrel or contest,
Patrick's made judge, to tell whase cause is best;
And his decreet stands good — ^he'U gar it stand ;
"Wha dares to grumble, finds his correcting hand ;



45

WV a firm look, and a eommamling waj",
He gars the proudest of our herds obey.

Sir William, Your tale much pleases — my good
friend proceed :
What learning has he ? can he write and read ?

Symon, Baith wonder wiel; for troth? I didna
spare
To gi'c him at the school enough of lai? :
And he delights in books— He reads and speaks,
-Wi' foiik tliat ken them, Ijatin words and Greeks.

Sir Willia7n. Where gets he books to read-— -and of
what kind ?
Tho' some give light, some blindly lead the blind.

Symon. Whene'er he drives our sheep to Edin-
burgli port,
He buys some books of history, sangs, or sport :
Nor does he want of them a routh at will.
And carries ay a poutchfu' to the hill.
About ane Shakspear and a famous Ben
He aften speaksj and ca's them best of men.
How sweetly Hawthornden and Stirling sing.
And ane ca'd Cowley, loyal to his king.
He kens fu* wiel, and gars their verses ring.
I sometimes tl lought he made o'er great a phrase
About line poems, histories and plays.
When I rcprov'd him anes, — a book lie brings,
Wi' this quoth he, on braes I crack wi' kings.

Sir William. He ansAver'd wiel 5 and much ye glad
my ear,
Wlien such accounts I of my Shepherd hear ;
Beading such books can raise a peasant's mind
Above a lord's that is not thus inclin'd.

Symon. What ken we better, that sae sindle look,
3Except on rainy Sundays, on a book ?
When we a leaf or twa half read half spell,
•Till a* the rest sleep round as wiei's oursell.

Sir William. Wiel jested, Symon ; but one ques-
tion more
I'll only ask ye now, and then gi'e o'er.
The youth's arriv'd the age when little loves
Flighter around young hearts like cooing doves:



}



4G

Has nae yonng la«;sie tvI' inviting inif^fi
And rosy cheek, the wonder of the tureen,
Engag'd his look, and cai!,£^ht his vouthfu' heart ?

Symou. I fearM the waist, but keud the sma'esi
part,
'Till late I saw him twa three linnes mair sweet
Wi' Glaud's fair niece than I thought right or meet.
I had iny fears ; but now ha'e nought to fear,
Since like jourseli your son will soon appear ;
A gentleman enrick'd wi' a these charms.
Way bless tlic fairest best-born lady's arms.

Sir William. This night must end his unambitious
iirc.
When higher views shall greater thoughts inspire.
Go, SyiooD, bring him quickly here to me ;
^'one but yoursell shall our first meeting see.
Yonder *s my horse and servants nigh at hand;
They come just at the time I gave command :
Straight in my own apparel I'll go dress,
Now ye the secret may to all confess.

Symon. Wi' how mud* joy I on this errand flee.
There's nane can know that is not downright me.

[Eiidt Symon,

Sir WILLLilM, solus.

\^lien the event of hopes successfully appears.
One happy hour cancels the toil of years:
A thousand toils are lost in Lethe's stream.
And cares evanish like a morning dream ;
When wish'd for pleasures rise like morning light.
The pain that's past enhances the delight.
These joys I feel, that woitls can ill express,
I ne'er had known, v, itliout my late distress.
But from his rustic business and love
I must, in haste, my Patrick soon remove,
To courts and camps that may his soul improve.

Like the rough diamond, as it leaves the mine.
Only in little breakings sIicavs its light,

'Till artfnl polishing has made it sliine ;

Thus education makes the genius bright. [Exit.



..}



47

Or sung as fallows,
SANG XV. Tune, Wat ye wha I met yestreen.

Now from rusticitj' and love,

Whose flames l>i!t over lowly burn.
My gentle slieplierd mast be di'ove.

His soul must take another turn ^
As the rough diamond from tlie mine.

In breakings only shews its light,
'Till polishing has made it shine.

Thus learning makes tlie genius bright.



ACT 1V....SCENE I.

PROLOGUE.

The scene describ'd in former page,
Claud's onset — Enter Maijse and Madge.

Manse, OUR laird's come liame ! and owns young
Pate his heir !
That's new s indeed !

Madge, As true as ye stand there.

As they were daneing a' in Symon's yard.
Sir Wfiliam, like a warlock, wi* a beard
Five nives in length, and white as driven sna%
Amang us came, cry'd, « Had ye mevry a','
We ferly'd meikle at his unco look,
While frae h.h pouch he wliirled forth a book.
As we stood round al>jut him on the green.
He view'd us a% but fix'd on Pate his een ;
Then pawkily pretended he couM spac.
Yet for his pains and skill wad naithing liae.

Jflatise, Then sure the lasses, and ilk gaping cooi^
Wad rin about him, and had out their loof.

Maige. As fast cs fleas skip to the tate of woo,
Whilk slee tod Lowrie hads without his mow,
When he to drown them, and his hips to cool^
In summer days slides backward in a pool.
In short be did for Pate bra' things foretell



48

Without tlie help of conjuring or spell ;
At last when wiel diverted, he withdrew,
Pou'd aff his beard io Symon : Symon knew
His welcome master; — ^round his knee^ he gat.
Hang at his coat, and syne for blythness grat.
Patrick was sent for — happy lad is he !
Symon taid Elspa, Elspa tald it me.
Ye'Jl hear out a' the secret story soon :
And troth 'tis e'en right odd, when a' is done.
To think how Symon ne'er afore wad tell,
Na, no sae meikle as to Pate himsell.
Our Meg, poor thing, alake ! has lost her jo.

Mause. It may be sae, wha kens, and may be no :
To lift a love tliat's rooted is great pain ; "J

Ev*n kings ha'e tane a queen out of the plain ; v

And what has been before may be again. J

Madge. Sic nonsense ! love tak' root, but tochev
good,
'Tween a herd's bairn, and ane of gentle blood !
Sic fashions in King Bruce' s days might be ;
But siccan ferlies now we never see.

Mause, Gif Pate forsakes her, Bauldy she may'^

gain : '

Yonder he comes, and wow ! but he looks fain ; j

Nae doubt he thinks that Peggy' s now his ain. J

Madge, He get her ! slavcrin doof ; it sets him wiel
To yoke a plough where Patrick thought to till.
Gif I were Meg, I'd let young master see —

Mause. YeM be as dorty in your choice as he ;
And so wad I. But whisht ! here Bauldy comes.

Enter BAULDY, singmg.

Jenny said to Jocky, gin ye winna tell.
Ye sail be the lad, I'll be the lass mysell;
Yc're a bonny lad, and I'm a lassie free ^
Ye're welcoiiier to tak' me than to let me be.

I irow sae. — Lasses will come to at last,

Tho* for a while they maun their sna'-ba's cast.

Mause, Wiel, Bauldy, how gaes a' ?

Bauldy, Faith, unco right :

I hope we'U a' sleep sound but ane this night.



49

Mad^. And wha's tlie unlucky ane if we may
ask ?

JSauldy, To find out tli^t is nae difficult task :
Poor bonny Peggy, wha maun think nae mair
On Pate turn'd Patrick and Sir William's heir.
Now, now, good Madge, and honest Mause, stand

be ;
While Meg's in dumps put in a word for me:
I'll be as kind as ever Pate could prove.
Less wilfu% and ay constant in my love.

Madge. As Neps can witness and the bushy thorn.
Where mony a time to her your heart was sworn j
Fy ! Bauldy, blush, and vows of love regard ;
What other lass will trow a mansworn herd :
The curse of heav'n hings ay aboon their heads.
That's ever guilty of sic sinfu' deeds.
PU nei'er advise my niece sae gray a gate ;
JNor will she be advis'd, fu' wiel I wat.

Bauldy. Sae gray a gate ! mansworn ! and a' the
rest:
Ye lied, auld Roudes, — and, in faith, y' had best
Eat in yOur words, else I sliall gar you stand,
W i* a het face afore the haly baud.

Madge, Ye*Jl gar me stand ! ye sheveling gabbit
brock ;
Speak that again, and trembling, dread my rock.
And ten sharp nails, that when my hands are in.
Can slyp the skin o* ye'r cheeks out o'er your chin.

Bauldy, 1 tak* ye witness, Mause, ye heard her

say
That I'm mansworn^ — I winna let it gae.

Madge. Ye're witness too he ca'd me bonny names.
And shou'd be serv'd as his good breeding claims :
Ye filthy dog !

[Flees to Im hair like a fury — a stout hattl^-^
Mause endeavours to redd them.
Mause, Let gang your grips 5 fy, Madge ! howt
Bauldy, leen ;
I wadna wish this tulzie had been seeiu
'^ns sae daft like—

E



50

[Bimldy gets out of Madge^s clutches ivith


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Online LibraryJohn QuincyThe American medical lexicon, on the plan of Quincy's Lexicon physico-medicum, with many retrenchments, additions, and improvements; comprising an explanation of the etymology and signification of the terms used in anatomy, physiology, surgery, materia medica, chemistry, and the practice of physic. → online text (page 3 of 5)