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Than he to ga, and scho to ga,
And never ane bad abyd you: Ane winklot fell and her taill up;
Wow, quod Malkin, hyd yow Quhat neidis you to maik it sua?
Yon man will not ourryd you. Ar ye owr gude, quod scho, I say, To lat thame gang besyd yow,
Yonder, Of Peblis to the Play ?
Than thai come to the townis end
Withouttin more delai, He befoir, and scho befoir,
To see quha was maist gay.
Leuche fast at thair array:
Than thai to the taverne hous
With meikle oly prance;
A done with ane mischance !
We are all in ane trance; Se that our napre be quhyt,
For we will dyn and daunce,
Of Peblis to the Play.
Ay as the gudwyf brocht in,
Ane scorit upon the wauch. Ane bad pay, ane ither said, nay,
Byd quhill we rakin our lauch.
The gudwyf said, Have ye na dreid?
Ye sall pay at ye aucht.
And he began to compt;
thus we war wount. Ane uther stert upon his feit,
And said thow art our blunt To tak sik office upoun hand;
Be God thow servite ane dunt
Of Peblis to the Play. Ane dunt, quod he, quhat dewil is that?
Be God yow dar not du'd. He stert till ane broggit stauf,
Wincheand as he war woode.
Ane cryit, “The halie rude !
Withouttin ony reddin;
He gat na better beddin.
Wald do ane utheris biddin.
Ane cadgear on the mercat gait
Hard thame bargane begin;
Scantlie scho micht ourhye him:
To red thame. Of Peblis to the Play:
He stert to his greit gray meir,
And of he tumblit the creilis.
And on hir knees scho knelis.
In till his stirrapis he lap;
His wyf came out, and gaif ane schout,
And be the fute scho gat him; All bedirtin drew him out;
Lord God! richt weil that sat him!
Quod scho, I reid ye lat him
Ye fylit me, fy for schame! quod scho;
Se as ye have drest me;
Quhat meikle devil may lest me.
I wait weil quhat it wes
My awin gray meir that kest me:
The stringis stert out of thair nokks;
Lay gruffling in the stokks.
Had lever have giffin an ox,
And mannis baythy
Ane meikle miller man;
up the bagpyp than:
I trow it sall not pane.
And neirar him thai dreuche;
Will Swane makis wounder teuche.
But, lord, as Will Young leuche!
Sa ferslie fyr heit wes the day
His face began to frekill.
(Wes new cuming fra the Seckill) Allace, quod scho, quhat sall I do
And our doure hes na stekill.
The pyper said now I begin
To tyre for playing to; Bot yit I have gottin nathing
For all my pyping to you; Thre happenis for half ane day
And that will not undo you: And gif ye will gif me richt nocht, The meikill devill
Be that the daunsing wes all done,
Thair leif tuik les and mair; Quhen the winklottis and the wawarris twynit
To se it was hart sair.
My bird now will I fayr :
He sippilit lyk ane faderless fole;
• And be still my sweit thing. * Be the halyrud of Peblis
"I may nocht. rest for greiting.