Page:Monk and the miller's wife (4).pdf/4

 And twa good botiles istout and clear,

Ane of strong ale, and are of beer.

But, wicked luck! just as the priest

Shot in his fork in chucky's breasts,

Th' unwelcome miller ga'e a roar,

Cry'd, “Bessy, haste ye ope the door."

With that the haly a letcher fled,

And darn'd himself behind a bed;

While Bessy huddled a' things by,

That nonght the cuckold night espy;

Syne loot him in,—but out of tune

Speer'd why he left the mill sae soon;

“I come," said he “as manners claims

To crack and wait on Maister James,

Whilk, I shou'd do tho’ ne’er so bizzy;

I sent him here, gudewife, where is he?”

“Ye sent him here, (quoth Bessy grumbling)

Ken I this James? A chiel came rumbling;

But how was I assured when dark,

That he had been nae thievish spark,

Or some rude wencher gotten a doze

That a weak wife cou'd ill oppose?

“And what came of him ? speak nae langer,”

Cries Halbert, in 'a Highland anger.

“I sent him to the barn,”:quoth she:

“Gae quickly bring him in," quoth he:

“James was brought in-the wife was bawk'd-

The priest stood closc--the miller crack'd

Then ask'd his sull en gloomy spouse,

What supper had she in the house

That might be suitable to gi'e

Ane of their lodger's qualitie ?

Quoth she, “Ye may wiel' ken, gudeman,

Your feast comes Irae the pottage-pan;