At last how it happened to her hard Lot,
To meet with young Jockey, a bonny brisk Scot;
Then Jockey was jolly, and thus he did say,
Let's gang to the Tavern, drink wine by my fay,
Then Shonny consented, and made no delay,
But Jockey left Shonny the Reckoning to pay.
While Morgan was merry, and thinking no ill,
The Scotchman he used the best of his skill;
Considering how he might scamper away,