With similar fervent assurances of the constancy of his affection, Patie prevails in calming the agitation of Peggy's mind, and banishing her fears. She declares she will patiently await the happy period of his return, soothing the long interval with prayers for his welfare, and sedulous endeavours to improve and accomplish her mind, that she may be the more worthy of his affection. The scene concludes with an effusion of her heart in a sentiment of inimitable tenderness and beauty:
| With every setting day, and rising morn, I'll kneel to Heaven, and ask thy safe return. Under that tree, and on the Suckler Brae, Where aft we wont, when bairns, to run and play; And to the Hissel-shaw where first ye vow'd Ye wad be mine, and I as eithly trow'd, I'll aften gang, and tell the trees and flowers, With joy, that they'll bear witness I am yours. |
| Act 4, Scene 2. |
To a passion at once so pure, so delicate, so fervent, and so disinterested in its object, with what propriety may we apply that beautiful apostrophe of Burns, in his Cottar's Saturday Night!
| O happy love! where love like this is found; O heartfelt raptures! bliss beyond compare! If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare, One cordial in this melancholy vale, 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair, In other's arms breathe out the tender tale, Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale. |
In intimate knowledge of human nature Ramsay yields to few poets either of ancient or of modern times. How naturally does poor Roger conjecture the insensibility of his mistress to his passion, from the following simple, but finely-imagined circumstances:
| My Bawty is a cur I dearly like, Even while he fawn'd, she strak the poor dumb tyke: If I had fill'd a nook within her breast, She wad have shawn mair kindness to my beast. When I begin to tune my stock and horn, With a' her face she shaws a caulrife scorn. Last night I play'd, ye never heard sic spite, O'er Bogie was the spring, and her delyte; Yet tauntingly she at her cousin speer'd, Gif she cou'd tell what tune I play'd, and sneer'd. |
| Act 1, Scene 1. |
The counsel, which Patie gives his friend, to prove with certainty the state of Jenny's affections, is the result of a profound acquaintance with the human heart:
| Daft gowk! leave off that silly whindging way; Seem careless, there's my hand ye'll win the day. Hear how I serv'd my lass I love as well As ye do Jenny, and with heart as leel. |