Jean: Will you not leave him in peace?
Holy Willie: There’s no peace for the damned. I had little hope of grace in him. But I wanted my flock to know that I had not failed in my duty by one of them, though strayed. I’m content.
Burns: I’ll never see you again, minister, God be praised. But listen, a parting word to you.
[He sings.]
O ye wha are sae guid yoursel’,
Sae pious and sae holy,
Ye’ve nought to do but mark and tell
Your neebours’ fauts and folly!
Whase life is like a weel-gaun mill,
Supply’d wi’ store o’ water,