Jean: There are enquiries for you everywhere in the town. They’re troubled for you, boy.
Burns: It’s kind of them, but it’s late now. Mr. Thompson has sent the five pounds. I’ve had to turn beggar at the end.
Jean: You earned it, you know that.
Burns: I know I had to beg.
[An approaching voice is heard.]
Burns: There’s a friend who’s not welcome.
[Holy Willie passes the window, his prayer on his lips.]
But, Lord, remember me and mine,
Wi’ mercies temp’ral and divine,
That I for grace and gear may shine,