_Sir Will._ Such as the devil's dancing in a moor, Amongst a few old women craz'd and poor, Who are rejoic'd to see him frisk and lowp O'er braes and bogs, with candles in his dowp; Appearing sometimes like a black-horn'd cow, Aftimes like Bawty, Badrans, or a Sow: Then with his train thro' airy paths to glide, While they on cats, or clowns, or broom-staffs ride; Or in the egg-shell skim out o'er the main, To drink their leader's health in France or Spain: Then aft by night, bumbaze hare-hearted fools, By tumbling down their cup-board, chairs and stools. Whate'er's in spells, or if there witches be, Such whimsies seem the most absurd to me. _Sym._ 'Tis true enough, we ne'er heard that a witch Had either meikle sense, or yet was rich. But Mause, tho' poor, is a sagacious wife, And lives a quiet and very honest life; That gars me think this hobleshew that's past Will land in naithing but a joke at last. _Sir Will._ I'm sure it will:--But see increasing light Commands the imps of darkness down to night; Bid raise my servants, and my horse prepare, Whilst I walk out to take the morning air. SANG XX.--_Tune_, Bonny grey-ey'd morn. _The bonny grey-ey'd morn begins to peep, And darkness flies before the rising ray; The hearty hind starts from his lazy sleep, To follow healthful labours of the day: Without a guilty sting to wrinkle his brow, The lark and the linnet tend his levee, And he joins their concert, driving his plow, From toil of grimace and pageantry free._ _While fluster'd with wine, or madden'd with loss Of half an estate, the prey of a main, The drunkard and gamester tumble and toss, Wishing for calmness and slumber in vain. Be my portion health, and quietness of mind, Plac'd at due distance from parties and state; Where neither ambition, nor avarice blind, Reach him who has happiness link'd to his fate._ [_Exeunt._ _ACT V.--SCENE II._ While Peggy laces up her bosom fair, With a blew snood Jenny binds up her hair; Glaud, by his morning ingle takes a beek, The rising sun shines motty thro' the reek, A pipe his mouth; the lasses please his een, And now and than his joke maun interveen. GLAUD, JENNY _and_ PEGGY. _Glaud._ I Wish, my bairns, it may keep fair till night; Ye do not use sae soon to see the light. Nae doubt now ye intend to mix the thrang, To take your leave of Patrick or he gang. But do ye think that now when he's a laird, That he poor landwart lasses will regard? _Jen._ Tho' he's young Master now, I'm very sure He has mair sense than slight auld friends, tho' poor. But yesterday he ga'e us mony a tug, And kiss'd my cousin there frae lug to lug.