This was ranting Rab Halliday—they all rose at my entrance; but being able to make myself at home in all companies, I had little difficulty in soon restoring them to their seats and jollity; while Davie signified what was to him intelligible of his master’s wishes to the tuneful ranter. Rab, after praying law for any lack of skill that might be detected by my learning, sang with great humour the following verses, which he entitled
THE CANNY COURTSHIP.
Young Redrigs walks where the sunbeams fa’;
He sees his shadow slant up the wa’—
Wi’ shouthers sae braid, and wi’ waist sae sma’,
Guid faith he’s a proper man!
He cocks his cap, and he streeks out his briest;
And he steps a step like a lord at least;
And he cries like the deevil to saddle his beast,
And aff to court he’s gaun.
The Laird o’ Largy is far frae hame,
But his dochter sits at the quiltin’ frame,
Kamin’ her hair wi’ a siller kame,
In mony a gowden ban’:
Bauld Redrigs loups frae his blawin’ horse,
He prees her mou’ wi’ a freesome force—
“Come take me, Nelly, for better for worse,
To be your ain guidman.”
“I’ll no be harried like bumbee’s byke—
I’ll no be handled unleddy like—
I winna hae ye, ye worryin’ tyke,
The road ye came gae ’lang!”
He loupit on wi’ an awsome snort,
He bang’d the fire frae the flinty court;
He’s aff and awa’ in a snorin’ sturt,
As hard as he can whang.
It’s doon she sat when she saw him gae,
And a’ that she could do or say,
Was—“O! and alack! and a well-a-day!
I’ve lost the best guidman!”
But if she was wae, it’s he was wud;
He garr’d them a’ frae his road to scud;
But Glowerin’ Sam gied thud for thud,
And then to the big house ran.
The Glowerer ran for the kitchen-door;
Bauld Redrigs hard at his heels, be sure,
He’s wallop’d him roun’ and roun’ the floor,
As wha but Redrigs can?
Then Sam he loups to the dresser-shelf—
“I daur ye wallop my leddy’s delf;
I daur ye break but a single skelf
Frae her cheeny bowl, my man!”
But Redrigs’ bluid wi’ his hand was up;
He’d lay them neither for crock nor cup,
He play’d awa’ wi’ his cuttin’ whup,
And doon the dishes dang;
He clatter’d them doon, sir, raw by raw;
The big anes foremost, and syne the sma’;
He came to the cheeny cups last o’ a’—
They glanced wi’ goud sae thrang!
Then bonny Nelly came skirlin’ butt;
Her twa white arms roun’ his neck she put—
“O Redrigs, dear, hae ye tint your wut?
Are ye quite and clean gane wrang?
O spare my teapot! O spare my jug!
O spare, O spare my posset-mug!
And I’ll let ye kiss, and I’ll let ye hug,
Dear Redrigs, a’ day lang.”
“Forgie, forgie me, my beauty bright
Ye are my Nelly, my heart’s delight;
I’ll kiss and I’ll hug ye day and night,
If alang wi’ me you’ll gang.”
“Fetch out my pillion, fetch out my cloak,
You’ll heal my heart if my bowl you broke.”
These words, whilk she to her bridegroom spoke,
Are the endin’ o’ my sang.