Jean: Couldn’t you see M’Pherson?
Burns: Aye—I’ve been meaning to this fortnight. But you know how it is. I’m all moods these days. That’s no reason—I know where the reproach lies well enough. But if it weren’t for you, Jean girl, and the others, I’d take my songs to the devil point to point. I’d have done with disillusions then. I could spread my wings in hell, maybe.
Jean: Don’t talk so, Robbie. Is my faith in you nothing?
Burns: It’s a miracle of your own heart. But there—Dumfries may mend us. (Drinking.) To the providence of Dumfries.
Jean: And you’ll see M’Pherson?
Burns: Aye. And I’m weak and unstable, I know, but I know where my good fortune is, for all I’m careless of it at times. You’ve been in my mind all day. Listen.
[He sings.]
O’ a’ the airts the wind can blaw,
I dearly like the west,
For there the bonnie lassie lives,