_Sym._ Or this day eight days likely he shall learn, That our denial disna slight his bairn.
_Glaud._ Well, nae mair o"t,--come, gie"s the other bend; We"ll drink their healths, whatever way it end.
[_Their healths gae round._
_Sym._ But will ye tell me, Glaud,--by some "tis said, Your niece is but a Fundling that was laid Down at your hallon-side, ae morn in May, Right clean row"d up, and bedded on dry hay?
_Glaud._ That clatteran Madge, my t.i.tty, tells sic flaws, When e"er our Meg her cankart humour gaws.
_Enter_ JENNY.
_Jen._ O father! there"s an auld man on the green, The fellest fortune-teller e"er was seen: He tents our loofs, and syne whops out a book, Turns o"er the leaves, and gie"s our brows a look; Syne tells the oddest tales that e"er ye heard.
His head is gray, and lang and gray his beard.
_Sym._ Gae bring him in; we"ll hear what he can say: Nane shall gang hungry by my house to day.
[_Exit_ JENNY.
But for his telling fortunes, troth I fear, He kens nae mair of that than my gray mare.
_Glaud._ Spae-men! the truth of a" their saws I doubt; For greater liars never ran there out.
_Returns_ JENNY, _bringing in_ SIR WILLIAM; _with them_ PATIE.
_Sym._ Ye"re welcome, honest carle;--here take a seat.
_Sir Will._ I give ye thanks, Goodman; I"se no be blate.
_Glaud._ [_drinks._] Come t"ye, friend:--How far came ye the day?
_Sir Will._ I pledge ye, nibour:--E"en but little way: Rousted with eild, a wee piece gate seems lang; Twa miles or three"s the maist that I dow gang.
_Sym._ Ye"re welcome here to stay all night with me, And take sic bed and board as we can gi" ye.
_Sir Will._ That"s kind unsought.--Well, gin ye have a bairn That ye like well, and wad his fortune learn, I shall employ the farthest of my skill, To spae it faithfully, be"t good or ill.
_Sym._ [_pointing to Patie._] Only that lad;--alake! I have nae mae, Either to make me joyful now, or wae.
_Sir Will._ Young man, let"s see your hand;--what gars ye sneer?
_Pat._ Because your skill"s but little worth I fear.
_Sir Will._ Ye cut before the point.--But, billy, bide, I"ll wager there"s a mouse mark on your side.
_Els._ Betooch-us-to! and well I wat that"s true: Awa, awa! the deil"s o"er grit wi" you.
Four inch aneath his oxter is the mark, Scarce ever seen since he first wore a sark.
_Sir Will._ I"ll tell ye mair, if this young lad be spar"d But a short while, he"ll be a braw rich laird.
_Els._ A laird! Hear ye, Goodman!--what think ye now?
_Sym._ I dinna ken: Strange auld man! What art thou?
Fair fa" your heart; "tis good to bode of wealth: Come turn the timmer to laird Patie"s health.
[PATIE"S _health gaes round_.
_Pat._ A laird of twa good whistles, and a kent, Twa curs, my trusty tenants, on the bent, Is all my great estate--and like to be: Sae, cunning carle, ne"er break your jokes on me.
_Sym._ Whisht, Patie,--let the man look o"er your hand, Aftimes as broken a ship has come to land.
[SIR WILLIAM _looks a little at_ PATIE"S _hand, then counterfeits falling into a trance, while they endeavour to lay him right_.]
_Els._ Preserve"s!--the man"s a warlock, or possest With some nae good,--or second sight, at least: Where is he now?----
_Glaud._ ----He"s seeing a" that"s done In ilka place, beneath or yont the moon.
_Els._ These second sighted fowk, his peace be here!
See things far aff, and things to come, as clear As I can see my thumb.--Wow, can he tell (Speer at him, soon as he comes to himsell) How soon we"ll see Sir William? Whisht, he heaves, And speaks out broken words like ane that raves.
_Sym._ He"ll soon grow better;--Elspa, haste ye, gae, And fill him up a ta.s.s of Usquebae.
_Sir_ WILLIAM _starts up, and speaks_.
A Knight that for a _Lyon_ fought, Against a herd of bears, Was to lang toil and trouble brought, In which some thousands shares.
But now again the _Lyon_ rares, And joy spreads o"er the plain: The _Lyon_ has defeat the bears, The Knight returns again.
That Knight, in a few days, shall bring A Shepherd frae the fauld, And shall present him to his King, A subject true and bauld.
He Mr. Patrick shall be call"d: All you that hear me now, May well believe what I have tald; For it shall happen true.
_Sym._ Friend, may your spaeing happen soon and weel; But, faith, I"m redd you"ve bargain"d with the deil, To tell some tales that fowks wad secret keep: Or do ye get them tald you in your sleep?
_Sir Will._ Howe"er I get them, never fash your beard; Nor come I to redd fortunes for reward: But I"ll lay ten to ane with ony here, That all I prophesy shall soon appear.
_Sym._ You prophesying fowks are odd kind men!
They"re here that ken, and here that disna ken, The wimpled meaning of your unco tale, Whilk soon will mak a noise o"er moor and dale.
_Glaud._ "Tis nae sma" sport to hear how Sym believes, And takes"t for gospel what the spae-man gives Of flawing fortunes, whilk he evens to Pate: But what we wish, we trow at ony rate.
_Sir Will._ Whisht, doubtfu" carle: for ere the sun Has driven twice down to the sea, What I have said ye shall see done In part, or nae mair credit me.
_Glaud._ Well, be"t sae, friend, I shall say nathing mair; But I"ve twa sonsy la.s.ses young and fair, Plump ripe for men: I wish ye cou"d foresee Sic fortunes for them might prove joy to me.
_Sir Will._ Nae mair thro" secrets can I sift, Till darkness black the bent: I have but anes a day that gift; Sae rest a while content.
_Sym._ Elspa, cast on the claith, fetch b.u.t.t some meat, And, of your best, gar this auld stranger eat.