Now turn your eyes beyond yon fpreading lyme, And tent a man whofe beard feems bleech'd with time ; T Sir William folus. HE gentleman thus hid in low difguife, I'll for a fpace, unknown, delight mine eyes Which once I loft,--which now are mine again. Without a roof, the gates fall'n from their bands; D My My only prop, and object of my care, Since Heav'n, too foon, call'd home his mother fair: And charg'd him ftrictly to conceal his birth, With other fhepherds whistling o'er the day. SANG XII. Tune, Happy clown. Hid from himself, now, by the dawn Life happy, from ambition free, When truth and love with joys agree, Unfully'd with a crime. Unmov'd with what disturbs the great, Now tow'rds good Symon's houfe I'll bend my way, [Exit Sir William. SCENE SCENE II. PROLOGUE. 'Tis Symon's houfe, pleafe to fep in, Yet all is clean; a clear peet ingle The green born spoons, beech luggies mingle While the young brood sport on the green, With the brown cow to clear their een, Snuff, crack, and tak their reft. Symon, Glaud, and Elfpa. Glaud. We anes were young ourfels-I like to fee Amang our lads he bears the gree awa', Elpa. Poor man !-he's a great comfort to us baith; Glaud. I trow, good wife, if I be not mista’en, Symon. Ha, Glaud! I doubt that ne'er will be a match; My Patie's wild, and will be ill to catch And, or he were, for reafons I'll no tell, ; I'd rather be mix'd with the mools mysel. Glaud. What reason can ye hae? There's nane, l'a Unless ye may caft up that he's but poor: · D 2 [fure, I'll I'll gie to Peggy that day fhe's a bride; Glaud. Weel, nae mair o't-come, gie's the other bend; We'll drink their healths, whatever way it end. [Their healths gae round. Symon. But will ye tell me, Glaud-by fome 'tis said, Your niece is but a fundling, that was laid Down at your hallon fide, ae morn in May, Glaud. That clatteran, Madge, my titty, tells fic flaws, Jenny. Oh, father, there's an auld man on the green, The felleft fortune-teller e'er was feen; He tents our loofs, and fyne whops out a book, But for his telling fortunes, troth, I fear, [Exit Jenny. Glaud. Spae-men! the truth of a' their faws I doubt; For greater liars never ran there out. Re-enter Jenny, bringing Sir William: with them Patie. Sir Will. I pledge ye, nibour-e'en but little way: Sir Will. That's kind, unfought. Weel, gin ye have a That ye like weel, and wad his fortune learn, I fhall employ the fartheft o' my skill To fpae it faithfully, be't good or ill. [bairn Symon. [Pointing to Patie.] Only that lad-alack, I hae nae mae !. Either to mak me joyfu' now, or wae. Sir Will. Young man, let's fee your ye fneer? hand-What gars Patie. 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 fide. Elpa. Beteech us to! and weel I wat that's true; Awa, awa, the deel's owre grit wi' you. Four inch aneath his oxter is the mark, Scarce ever seen fince first he wore a fark. Sir Will. I'll tell ye mair: if this young lad be fpar'd But a fhort while, he'll be a braw rich laird. Elfpa. Alaird! Hear ye, good man? What think ye now? Symon. I dinna ken. Strange auld man, what art thou? Fair fa' your heart; 'tis good to bode o' wealth: Come, turn the timmer to laird Patie's health. [Patie's health gaes round. Patie. A laird o' twa good whiftles, and a kent, Twa curs my trusty tenants on the bent, Is a' my great eftate-and like to be; Sae, cunning carle, ne'er break your jokes on me. Symon. Whifht, Patie, let the man look owre your hand : Aft-times as broken a fhip 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.] Elpa. Preferv's!-the man's a warlock, or poffefs'd With fome nae good, or fecond-fight at least. Whar is he now? Glaud. He's seeing a' that's done In ilka place beneath or yont the moon. Elpa. Thefe fecond-fighted fowk, his peace be here! See things far aff, and things to come, as clear As I can fee my thumb-wow! can he tell (Speer at him foon as he comes to himsel) D 3 How |