Life is all a variorum,
We regard not how it goes;
Let them cant about decorum
Who have characters to lose.
[The Beggars depart, to the music that brought them, Burns exchanging farewells as they pass through the door. The villagers follow them, except one lying in a drunken sleep on the floor. Burns, Armour, Holy Willie, the Factor, Tam, the Landlord, and Nell are all that remain. The room is now in confusion, filled with fumes, the floor stained with liquor, tankards lying about, a litter of straw and oddments of rags left by the Beggars.]
Burns: And that, your reverences, is life too. They’ll all come to the Day of Judgment with the rest of us. Miserable sinners, God bless them. Is there anyone to say God bless you, think you?
Armour: Let us pass.
Burns: Aye, in a moment. That tune has just put another rhyme to shape—I’ld have you hear it before you go.
Holy Willie: You heard what Mr. Armour told you. There’s a warrant coming this way. Now for the reckoning.
The Landlord (coming forward): Aye, the reckoning.