Part V.
There was an old rich blind woman, who lived hard bye, that had a young girl her only daughter, and she fell deep in love with Tom, and Tom fell as deep in love with the money, but not with the maid: the old woman bestowed a vast of presents on Tom, and mounted him like a gentleman, but still he put off the marriage from time to time, and always wanted something, which the old woman gave the money to purchase for him, until he had got about thirty pounds of her money and then she would delay the marriage no longer: Tom went and took the old woman and girl aside, and made his apology as follows—Dear mother,[63] said he I am very willing to wed with my dear Polly, for she appears as an angel in mine eyes, but I am sorry very sorry to acquaint you that I am not a fit match for her: what child, says the old woman, there’s not a fitter match in the world for my Polly, I did not think your country could afford such a clever youth as what I hear of you to be,[64] you shall neither want gold nor silver, and a good horse to ride upon and when I die you shall have my all: O but says Tom, mother that’s no the matter at all, the stop is this, when I was at home in Scotland, I got a stroke with a horse’s foot on the bottom of my belly, which has quite disabled me below that I cannot perform I husband’s duty in bed. Then the old woman clapt her hands, and fell a crying, O! if it had been any impediment but that, but that, but that, woful that! which gold and silver cannot purchase and yet the poorest people that is even common beggars have plenty off it. The old woman and her daughter sat crying and wringing their hands, and Tom stood and wept lest he should get no more money, O says Polly, mother I’ll wed with him nevertheless, I love him so dearly? No, no, you foolish girl would you throw yourself away to marry a man and die a maid, you don’t know the end of your creation, it is the enjoyment of a man in bed that makes women to marry, which is a pleasure like a paradise, and if you wed with this man, you’ll live and die and never know it. Hoo, hoo, says Tom, If I had got money, I needed not been this way till now; money, you fool, said the old woman, there’s not such a thing to be got for money in all England: ay, says Tom, there’s a doctor in Newcastle, will make me able as any other man for ten guineas: ten guineas, said she, I’ll give him fifty guineas if he will, but here is twelve and go to him directly, and know first what he can do, and come again and wed my child, or she and I both will die for thy sake. Tom having now got twelve guineas more of their money, got all things ready, and next morning early, sets out for Newcastle, but instead of going to Newcastle, he came to old Scotland, and left Polly and her mother to think upon him, then in about two weeks after, when he was not like to return, no nor so much as a word from him: the old woman and Polly got a horse, and came to Newcastle in search of him, went through all the doctors shops asking if there came a young man there about two weeks ago with a broken cock to mend: some laught at her, others were like to kick her out of doors, so the old woman had to return without getting any further intelligence of Tom.
Now after Tom’s return to Scotland, he got a wife and took a little farm near Dalkeith, and became a very douse man for many days, followed his old business the couping of horses and cows the feeding of veals for slaughter, and the like: He went one day to a fair and bought a fine cow from an old woman, but Tom judged from the lowness of the price that the cow certainly had some fault; Tom gives the wife the other hearty bicker of good ale, then says, he, wife the money’s your’s and the cow’s mine, ye must tell me ony wi’ bit of faults it she has: Indeed quoth she goodman, she has nae a fault but ane, and in she had wanted it, I wad never a parted wi’ her; and what’s that goodwife said he? Indeed said she the filthy daft beast sucks ay hersel; hute, says Tom, if that be all, I’ll soon cure her of that, O can ye do’t said she, If I had kend what wad a done it, ye had nae gotten her. A well says Tom I’ll tell you what to do, tak the cow’s price I gave you just now, and tye it hard and fast in your napkin, and give it to me throw beneath the cow’s wame, and I’ll give you the napkin again over the cow’s back, and I’ll lay my life for it that she’ll never suck hersel in my aught; a wat well, said she, I’se do that an they sud be witchcraft in’t,[65] so Tom no sooner got it throw below the cow’s wame than he looses out his money and puts it in his pocket, and gave the wife again her napkin over the cow’s back accordingly as he told her, saying, now wife, you have your cow and I my money, and she’ll never suck herself in my aught, as I told you, O dole, cryed the wife, is that your cure, ye have cheated me, ye have cheated me.