But will ye tell me, Master Caesar?
Sure great folk's life's a life o' pleasure;
Nae cauld nor hunger o'er can steer them. touch
The very thought o't needna fear them.
caesar
Lord, man, were ye but whyles where I am, sometimes
The gentles ye wad ne'er envy 'em,
It's true, they needna starve or sweat,
Thro' winter's cauld or simmer's heat;
They've nae sair wark to craze their banes. hard