MAUSE.
This fool imagines—as do many sic—
That I'm a witch in compact with Auld Nick,
Because by education I was taught
To speak and act aboon their common thought:
Their gross mistake shall quickly now appear;
Soon shall they ken what brought, what keeps me here.
Now since the royal Charles, and right's restor'd,
A shepherdess is daughter to a lord.
The bonny foundling that's brought up by Glaud,
Wha has an uncle's care on her bestow'd,—
Her infant life I sav'd, when a false friend
Bow'd to the usurper, and her death design'd,
To establish him and his in all these plains
That by right heritage to her pertains.
She's now in her sweet bloom, has blood and charms
Of too much value for a shepherd's arms.
None know't but me!—And if the morn were come,
I'll tell them tales will gar them a' sing dumb.
* * * * *
SIR WILLIAM.
How goes the night? does day-light yet appear
Symon, you're very timeously asteer.
SYMON.
I'm sorry, sir, that we've disturb'd your rest;
But some strange thing has Bauldy's spirit opprest,
He's seen some witch, or wrestled with a ghaist.
BAULDY.
O! ay; dear sir, in troth, 'tis very true;
And I am come to make my plaint to you.
SIR WILLIAM.