And now she must still be observ’d like a madam.
She’ll cause him to curvet, and skip like a frog,
And if he refuses she’s ready to scad him,
Poxtake such a life, it wou’d weary a dog.
Ere I were so serv’d, I would see the de’il take her,
I hate both the name and the nature of sneaks;
But if she were mine I would clearly forsake her,
And let her make a kirk and a mill of the breeks.