Pla. I’ faith
I like the audience that frequenteth there
With much applause: a man shall not be chokt
With the stench of garlick, nor be pasted firm
With the barmy jacket of a beer-brewer.

Bra. ’Tis a good gentle audience, and I hope
The boys will come one day in great request.

Jack Drum’s Entertainment, 1601.

Out cam the gudeman, and laigh he louted;
Out cam the gudewife, and heigh she shouted;
And a the toun-neibours gather’d about it;
And there he lay, I trow.

The Cauldrife Wooer.

XVIII. The Barley Fever: and Rebuke,

Sages their solemn een may steek,
And raise a philosophic reek,
And, physically, causes seek,
In clime and season:
But tell me Whisky’s name in Greek,
I’ll tell the reason.

Burns.

XIX. The Awful Night,

Ha!—’twas but a dream;
But then so terrible, it shakes my soul!
Cold drops of sweat hang on my trembling flesh;
My blood grows chilly, and I freeze with horror,

Richard the Third.

The Fire-king one day rather amorous felt;
He mounted his hot copper filly;
His breeches and boots were of tin, and the belt
Was made of cast-iron, for fear it should melt
With the heat of the copper colt’s belly.

Oh! then there was glitter and fire in each eye,
For two living coals were the symbols;
His teeth were calcined, and his tongue was so dry,
It rattled against them as though you should try
To play the piano on thimbles.

Rejected Addresses.

XX. Adventures in the Sporting Line,

A fig for them by law protected,
Liberty’s glorious feast;
Courts for cowards were erected,
Churches built to please the priest.

Jolly Beggars.

Wi’ cauk and keel I’ll win your bread,
And spindles and whorles for them wha need,
Whilk is a gentle trade indeed,
To carry the Gaberlunzie on.
I’ll bow my leg and crook my knee,
And draw a black clout owre my ee,
A cripple or blind they will ca’ me,
While we shall be merry and sing.

King James V.

XXI. Anent Mungo Glen,

“Earth to earth,” and “dust to dust,”
The solemn priest hath said,
So we lay the turf above thee now,
And we seal thy narrow bed;
But thy spirit, brother, soars away
Among the faithful blest,
Where the wicked cease from troubling,
And the weary are at rest.

Milman.

XXII. The June Jaunt,