SCENE II

A late spring evening two years later. The Inn at Mauchline. The room is lamplit.A number of villagers are seated round the room, drinking, being served by the landlord, andNell,now the maid of the Inn.Burnsis standing on a chair, singing, all joining in every other verse.

A late spring evening two years later. The Inn at Mauchline. The room is lamplit.

A number of villagers are seated round the room, drinking, being served by the landlord, andNell,now the maid of the Inn.Burnsis standing on a chair, singing, all joining in every other verse.

Burns:

There was three kings into the east,Three kings both great and high;And they hae sworn a solemn oathJohn Barleycorn should die.

There was three kings into the east,

Three kings both great and high;

And they hae sworn a solemn oath

John Barleycorn should die.

Chorus:

They took a plough and plough’d him down,Put clods upon his head,And they hae sworn a solemn oathJohn Barleycorn was dead.

They took a plough and plough’d him down,

Put clods upon his head,

And they hae sworn a solemn oath

John Barleycorn was dead.

Burns:

But the cheerful Spring came kindly on,And show’rs began to fall;John Barleycorn got up again,And sore surpris’d them all.

But the cheerful Spring came kindly on,

And show’rs began to fall;

John Barleycorn got up again,

And sore surpris’d them all.

Chorus:

The sober Autumn enter’d mild,When he grew wan and pale;His bending joints and drooping headShow’d he began to fail.

The sober Autumn enter’d mild,

When he grew wan and pale;

His bending joints and drooping head

Show’d he began to fail.

Burns:

They’ve ta’en a weapon, long and sharp,And cut him by the knee;Then tied him fast upon a cart,Like a rogue for forgerie.

They’ve ta’en a weapon, long and sharp,

And cut him by the knee;

Then tied him fast upon a cart,

Like a rogue for forgerie.

Chorus:

They wasted o’er a scorching flameThe marrow of his bones;But a miller us’d him worst of all—For he crush’d him ’tween two stones.

They wasted o’er a scorching flame

The marrow of his bones;

But a miller us’d him worst of all—

For he crush’d him ’tween two stones.

Burns:

And they ha’e ta’en his very heart’s blood,And drank it round and round;And still the more and more they drank,Their joy did more abound.

And they ha’e ta’en his very heart’s blood,

And drank it round and round;

And still the more and more they drank,

Their joy did more abound.

Chorus:

Then let us toast John Barleycorn,Each man a glass in hand;And may his great posterityNe’er fail in old Scotland!

Then let us toast John Barleycorn,

Each man a glass in hand;

And may his great posterity

Ne’er fail in old Scotland!

[There is general acclamation and toasting.]

Burns(jumping down from his chair, a little ‘flown’): Fill up—fill up! John Barleycorn is Scotland’s king, and shall be so for ever! Fill up! There’s a pretty Nell. How’s that for a song, landlord?

The Landlord: Very good sentiments, Robin. Let all honest men prosper, say I.

Burns: Meaning, most noble landlord, all honest men to be John Barleycorn’s liege subjects—that pay tribute, mark you. Drink up, Tam Laurie—why so doomsday, man?

Tam(a meek, hard-driven little man): It’s the cursed factors, Robin. They’ll not let a man scrape supper gruel from his toil.

Burns: Blast and misfortune to them! Craft and fat bellies—a flea on a dog’s tail is a respectable work of God beside a factor. A toast, friends, fellow-citizens of Mauchline—‘To hell with all factors.’

[The toast is drunk with enthusiasm.]

A lean but well-to-do Farmer: That’s all very well, but rents have to be paid.

Burns: Friends—another toast—‘To hell with all rents.’

[And again.]

Burns: Michael, you speak as a man the Lord prospers.

Michael: I speak as one who is diligent.

Burns: Diligent, quotha! A man left a fat inheritance and his croft all favoured by nature, and he talks diligence. Have you sweated, Michael, with your share always ringing on the stones, and your breeches letting in the cold blast behind you, and your boots full of March rain, and your belly empty, and a bare table to go home to when dark comes, and a gap in the roof above you as wide as a lassie’s embrace? Have you donethese things, and kept the heart true steel within you, like Tam Laurie there?

Tam: I’ve to quit come Tuesday week.

Burns: To quit, Michael—do you hear that? Do you know what quitting means? You stand out there under the sky, and your steps may as well go this way as that, for you have no door in the world, and a ditch to starve in is all you can borrow. And rents must be paid. To hell with such rents I say!

Michael: I’ll not listen to such heresies in the state. Respectable houses are not safe when tongues are loose like this. But the Lord will look to his own.

Burns: You put off settlement with the Lord as long as you can, Michael Johnson—you’ll be wise.

Michael: They say that Mr. Armour will not be put off, though.

[Burnsis suddenly silenced by this, and with his parting scoreMichaelgoes, two or three of the others following him. One or two of the party are now asleep,two or three others talking together,Tamsitting by himself. The landlord is smoking, andNellcleaning pots.]

Tam: He was always bitter to poverty. Thank you, Robin, for speaking.

Nell: What’s that about Mr. Armour?

Burns: They’ve beaten me, Nell. I’ve got to go.

Nell: How’s that?

Burns(sitting at a table near to us, in dejection.Nellcomes to him, still working. Some of the others at another table are playing cards): We were friends, Nell, you and I.

Nell: Good friends, Robin.

Burns: Parnassus Hill, you remember?

Nell: You and I, and love, and John Barleycorn—yes.

Burns: Then there was my Mary; she died. Then Jean came. You didn’t scold.

Nell: I knew they would come. I told you I was not for wedding.

Burns: Jean is a mother.

Nell: You?

Burns: Yes.

Nell: You’ll wed her then, so why grieve? She’s good, and she’s comely.

Burns: I love her, Nell, and I’d be proud of her. But I’m not to wed her.

Nell: But that’s not honest, Robin.

Burns: They won’t let me.

Nell: Who won’t?

Burns: That’s what Michael meant. Mr. Armour. He’s forbidden it. I’m not genteel enough. He says I’m profligate. He’s right I dare say. But that, it’s bitter, that. He’d rather have his girl be shamed alone than be shamed by wedding me. And I can’t pay as I’m ordered (he shows her a paper), so it’s jail or leaving Scotland. John Barleycorn is all now. Fill my pot, Nell.

[Nelldoes so, and brings it to him.]

Nell: What will you do?

Burns: I came here to forget it. I’m going. Jamaica—that’s a world’s journey off, Nell. Jean, and Scotland—I’m losing both.

[He sings.]

O thou pale Orb, that silent shines,While care-untroubled mortals sleep!Thou seest a wretch that inly pines,And wanders here to wail and weep!With Woe I nightly vigils keep,Beneath thy wan, unwarming beam;And mourn, in lamentation deep,How life and love are all a dream.

O thou pale Orb, that silent shines,

While care-untroubled mortals sleep!

Thou seest a wretch that inly pines,

And wanders here to wail and weep!

With Woe I nightly vigils keep,

Beneath thy wan, unwarming beam;

And mourn, in lamentation deep,

How life and love are all a dream.

[As he is ending the song, three men come to the door. One isJames Armour,Jean’sfather, another aFactor,and with them isHoly Willie.TheFactorgoes to the counter and drinks.]

Armour: So you can sing in the midst of the desolation you’ve caused.

Burns: It was no happy song, Mr. Armour.

Armour: There’s a warrant coming down the road for you.

Burns: But I cannot pay, I told you. I’ll work for Jean, but you’ll not let me.

Armour: I will not. I want no creeping seducer for a son-in-law.

Burns: That’s—I’ll not say what it is, Mr. Armour. Ask Jean. She loves me. We’re proud of it, if you would let us be.

Armour: Proud of it, you Barbary sheep!The girl’s a scandal to my name, but she’s not for you. Let her be proud of it alone.

Holy Willie: I told you of this, young man. I preached the light to you.

Burns: Good counsel from you would corrupt the saints, minister. Why won’t you let me wed Jean, Mr. Armour?

Armour: I came to give no reasons, Robert Burns. I came to see you knew the choice rightly. You can pay, or you can feel handcuffs, or you can go where you’ll never offend honest Scots eyes with the sight of you more.

Holy Willie: And whichever you choose, you’ll first do penance in kirk for an incontinent sinner. It is the kirk’s will.

Burns: Let him that is without sin, minister—but let that go. Again, Mr. Armour, I ask it in good faith, let me take Jean to church. There’ll be no penance in that, but hope and goodwill, I promise it.

Armour: You’ve no virtue, but if you were made of it, I’ld say no still. You’ve not rank enough for the Armours.

Burns: Rank, rank, rank! Then destroyher and destroy me, and ask your holy friend here to pray God to show you your own black and proud and silly heart. Fill up my pot, Nell.

[As she does so, theFactoris about to leave, but seeingTam Laurie,goes across to him.]

The Factor: Have you found that money, Laurie?

Tam: It’s not for finding.

The Factor: It’s for spending, it seems.

Tam: I’ve had but two pots, and not to my score.

The Factor: Tuesday week then. I hope you’ll have joy of your travels.

Tam: It’s a poor thing to fleer at a man that’s beaten.

Burns(crossing, pot in hand): A dirty thing, Master Factor, a thing that makes old Nickie-ben laugh down among the sulphur the minister is so fond of gabbing about. And before I’m gone, I’ll stand up and prophesy among you. Mr. Armour, you’re a little man, in a little place, and for your peddling bit ofdignity and self-esteem you’ll break your girl’s heart and ruin me. Minister, you’ll sit on the Lord’s right hand till He turns round and catches you there. And you, Factor, will sit on a lord’s right hand till he turns round and finds your fingers in his pocket. And you’re all upright pillars of repute, praise the Lord, Amen. And Tam here is a pauper, and I’m forfeit, and before the God that you blaspheme with your devil’s work, we’ll take our chance at the day of judgment against the lot of you. He’ll have mercy on us, for we are sinners, but I doubt he’ll take no notice of you at all, and you’ll find it a wide place to wander in and learn your lesson.

[Outside is heard the sound of music and song, coming from a band of Beggars passing along the road.]

Burns(going to the window, and looking out): Listen to them—vagabonds, unwashed, thieves perhaps, and kiss who kiss can. But they’re free, and they’re honester than your sort, righter commanders. (Opening the door.) Come in, come in—a pot apiece for a song,my hearties—come and teach the gentlemen to say their grace.

[The Beggars crowd at the door.]

Armour: You think we’ll stay with you and your dirty rapscallions. By your leave—

[He,theFactor,andHoly Williemove to go.]

Burns: No, no—persuade them friends. (Tamand the others,Nelland theLandlordassisting, hold them back, whileBurnscries to the Beggars.) Come in—come in—serve them, Nell, my dear, full pots all round.

[He locks the door, andNellhands round the full pots.]

Armour: This shall be a case for the Justice.

Burns: Justice is a blind wench, Mr. Armour—and it would be a bonny jest for the parish, wouldn’t it? I think we shall swallow it. Now, you jolly beggars, drink and sing.

[TheFirst Beggar,an old man in soldier’s rags, a girl in his arms, sings.]

I am a son of Mars, who have been in many wars,And show my cuts and scars wherever I come;This here was for a wench, and that other in a trench,When welcoming the French at the sound of the drum.Lal de daudle, etc.And now tho’ I must beg with a wooden arm and legAnd many a tatter’d rag hanging over my limbs,I’m as happy with my wallet, my bottle, and my callet,As when I us’d in scarlet to follow a drum.Lal de daudle, etc.

I am a son of Mars, who have been in many wars,And show my cuts and scars wherever I come;This here was for a wench, and that other in a trench,When welcoming the French at the sound of the drum.

I am a son of Mars, who have been in many wars,

And show my cuts and scars wherever I come;

This here was for a wench, and that other in a trench,

When welcoming the French at the sound of the drum.

Lal de daudle, etc.

And now tho’ I must beg with a wooden arm and legAnd many a tatter’d rag hanging over my limbs,I’m as happy with my wallet, my bottle, and my callet,As when I us’d in scarlet to follow a drum.

And now tho’ I must beg with a wooden arm and leg

And many a tatter’d rag hanging over my limbs,

I’m as happy with my wallet, my bottle, and my callet,

As when I us’d in scarlet to follow a drum.

Lal de daudle, etc.

[He is followed, after drinking and laughter, by the girl in his arms, who sings.]

I once was a maid, tho’ I cannot tell when,And still my delight is in proper young men;Some one of a troop of dragoons was my daddie,No wonder I’m fond of a sodger laddie.Sing, Lal de lal, etc.The first of my loves was a swaggering blade,To rattle the thundering drum was his trade;His leg was so tight, and his cheek was so ruddy,Transported I was with my sodger laddie.Sing, Lal de lal, etc.But the godly old chaplain left him in the lurch,The sword I forsook for the sake of the church;He ventur’d the soul, and I risket the body,’Twas then I prov’d false to my sodger laddie.Sing, Lal de lal, etc.Full soon I grew sick of my sanctified sot,The regiment at large for a husband I got;From the gilded spontoon to the fife I was ready,I askèd no more but a sodger laddie.Sing, Lal de lal, etc.And now I have lived—I know not how long,And still I can join in a cup and a song;But whilst with both hands I can hold the glass steady,Here’s to thee, my hero, my sodger laddie.Sing, Lal de lal, etc.

I once was a maid, tho’ I cannot tell when,And still my delight is in proper young men;Some one of a troop of dragoons was my daddie,No wonder I’m fond of a sodger laddie.

I once was a maid, tho’ I cannot tell when,

And still my delight is in proper young men;

Some one of a troop of dragoons was my daddie,

No wonder I’m fond of a sodger laddie.

Sing, Lal de lal, etc.

The first of my loves was a swaggering blade,To rattle the thundering drum was his trade;His leg was so tight, and his cheek was so ruddy,Transported I was with my sodger laddie.

The first of my loves was a swaggering blade,

To rattle the thundering drum was his trade;

His leg was so tight, and his cheek was so ruddy,

Transported I was with my sodger laddie.

Sing, Lal de lal, etc.

But the godly old chaplain left him in the lurch,The sword I forsook for the sake of the church;He ventur’d the soul, and I risket the body,’Twas then I prov’d false to my sodger laddie.

But the godly old chaplain left him in the lurch,

The sword I forsook for the sake of the church;

He ventur’d the soul, and I risket the body,

’Twas then I prov’d false to my sodger laddie.

Sing, Lal de lal, etc.

Full soon I grew sick of my sanctified sot,The regiment at large for a husband I got;From the gilded spontoon to the fife I was ready,I askèd no more but a sodger laddie.

Full soon I grew sick of my sanctified sot,

The regiment at large for a husband I got;

From the gilded spontoon to the fife I was ready,

I askèd no more but a sodger laddie.

Sing, Lal de lal, etc.

And now I have lived—I know not how long,And still I can join in a cup and a song;But whilst with both hands I can hold the glass steady,Here’s to thee, my hero, my sodger laddie.

And now I have lived—I know not how long,

And still I can join in a cup and a song;

But whilst with both hands I can hold the glass steady,

Here’s to thee, my hero, my sodger laddie.

Sing, Lal de lal, etc.

[Then comes a dark, tragic woman, who has been sitting apart.]

A Highland lad my love was born,The lalland laws he held in scorn;But he still was faithfu’ to his clan,My gallant, braw John Highlandman.ChorusSing hey my braw John Highlandman!Sing ho my braw John Highlandman!There’s not a lad in a’ the lan’Was match for my John Highlandman.With his philibeg an’ tartan plaid,An’ guid claymore down by his side,The ladies’ hearts he did trepan,My gallant, braw John Highlandman.Sing hey, etc.They banish’d him beyond the sea,But ere the bud was on the tree,Adown my cheeks the pearls ran,Embracing my John Highlandman.Sing hey, etc.But, och! they catch’d him at the last,And bound him in a dungeon fast;My curse upon them every one,They’ve hang’d my braw John Highlandman.Sing hey, etc.And now a widow, I must mournThe pleasures that will ne’er return;Nae comfort but a hearty can,When I think on John Highlandman.Sing hey, etc.

A Highland lad my love was born,The lalland laws he held in scorn;But he still was faithfu’ to his clan,My gallant, braw John Highlandman.

A Highland lad my love was born,

The lalland laws he held in scorn;

But he still was faithfu’ to his clan,

My gallant, braw John Highlandman.

Chorus

Sing hey my braw John Highlandman!Sing ho my braw John Highlandman!There’s not a lad in a’ the lan’Was match for my John Highlandman.

Sing hey my braw John Highlandman!

Sing ho my braw John Highlandman!

There’s not a lad in a’ the lan’

Was match for my John Highlandman.

With his philibeg an’ tartan plaid,An’ guid claymore down by his side,The ladies’ hearts he did trepan,My gallant, braw John Highlandman.

With his philibeg an’ tartan plaid,

An’ guid claymore down by his side,

The ladies’ hearts he did trepan,

My gallant, braw John Highlandman.

Sing hey, etc.

They banish’d him beyond the sea,But ere the bud was on the tree,Adown my cheeks the pearls ran,Embracing my John Highlandman.

They banish’d him beyond the sea,

But ere the bud was on the tree,

Adown my cheeks the pearls ran,

Embracing my John Highlandman.

Sing hey, etc.

But, och! they catch’d him at the last,And bound him in a dungeon fast;My curse upon them every one,They’ve hang’d my braw John Highlandman.

But, och! they catch’d him at the last,

And bound him in a dungeon fast;

My curse upon them every one,

They’ve hang’d my braw John Highlandman.

Sing hey, etc.

And now a widow, I must mournThe pleasures that will ne’er return;Nae comfort but a hearty can,When I think on John Highlandman.

And now a widow, I must mourn

The pleasures that will ne’er return;

Nae comfort but a hearty can,

When I think on John Highlandman.

Sing hey, etc.

[As she finishes, theFirst Beggar,leaving his doxy, goes up to her and sings.]

Let me ryke up to dight that tear,And go wi’ me and be my dear,An’ then your every care and fearMay whistle owre the lave o’t.ChorusI am a fiddler to my trade,An’ a’ the tunes that e’er I play’d,The sweetest still to wife or maid,Was whistle owre the lave o’t.But bless me wi’ your heav’n o’ charms,And while I kittle hair on thairms,Hunger, cauld, and a’ sic harms,May whistle owre the lave o’t.I am, etc.

Let me ryke up to dight that tear,And go wi’ me and be my dear,An’ then your every care and fearMay whistle owre the lave o’t.

Let me ryke up to dight that tear,

And go wi’ me and be my dear,

An’ then your every care and fear

May whistle owre the lave o’t.

Chorus

I am a fiddler to my trade,An’ a’ the tunes that e’er I play’d,The sweetest still to wife or maid,Was whistle owre the lave o’t.

I am a fiddler to my trade,

An’ a’ the tunes that e’er I play’d,

The sweetest still to wife or maid,

Was whistle owre the lave o’t.

But bless me wi’ your heav’n o’ charms,And while I kittle hair on thairms,Hunger, cauld, and a’ sic harms,May whistle owre the lave o’t.

But bless me wi’ your heav’n o’ charms,

And while I kittle hair on thairms,

Hunger, cauld, and a’ sic harms,

May whistle owre the lave o’t.

I am, etc.

[At the conclusion she sinks into his arms, and there is an altercation between the two Beggar women, theOld Beggarquieting them, and then there are cries from all toBurns.]

Now, Master, a song for a song, a taste of your quality, good liquor makes good tunes, a song, a song!

Burns(leaps on to the table with): Here’s for you, then, my hearties.

[And sings.]

I am a Bard of no regard,Wi’ gentle folks, an’ a’ that:But Homer-like, the glowrin byke,Frae town to town I draw that.ChorusFor a’ that, an’ a’ that,An’ twice as muckle’s a’ that;I’ve lost but ane, I’ve twa behin’,I’ve wife eneugh for a’ that.Great love I bear to a’ the fair,Their humble slave, an’ a’ that;But lordly will, I hold it stillA mortal sin to thraw that.For a’ that, etc.Their tricks an’ craft ha’e put me daft,They’ve ta’en me in, and a’ that;But clear your decks, and here’s the Sex!I like the jades for a’ that.ChorusFor a’ that, an’ a’ that,And twice as muckle’s a’ that;My dearest bluid, to do them guid,They’re welcome till’t for a’ that.

I am a Bard of no regard,Wi’ gentle folks, an’ a’ that:But Homer-like, the glowrin byke,Frae town to town I draw that.

I am a Bard of no regard,

Wi’ gentle folks, an’ a’ that:

But Homer-like, the glowrin byke,

Frae town to town I draw that.

Chorus

For a’ that, an’ a’ that,An’ twice as muckle’s a’ that;I’ve lost but ane, I’ve twa behin’,I’ve wife eneugh for a’ that.

For a’ that, an’ a’ that,

An’ twice as muckle’s a’ that;

I’ve lost but ane, I’ve twa behin’,

I’ve wife eneugh for a’ that.

Great love I bear to a’ the fair,Their humble slave, an’ a’ that;But lordly will, I hold it stillA mortal sin to thraw that.

Great love I bear to a’ the fair,

Their humble slave, an’ a’ that;

But lordly will, I hold it still

A mortal sin to thraw that.

For a’ that, etc.

Their tricks an’ craft ha’e put me daft,They’ve ta’en me in, and a’ that;But clear your decks, and here’s the Sex!I like the jades for a’ that.

Their tricks an’ craft ha’e put me daft,

They’ve ta’en me in, and a’ that;

But clear your decks, and here’s the Sex!

I like the jades for a’ that.

Chorus

For a’ that, an’ a’ that,And twice as muckle’s a’ that;My dearest bluid, to do them guid,They’re welcome till’t for a’ that.

For a’ that, an’ a’ that,

And twice as muckle’s a’ that;

My dearest bluid, to do them guid,

They’re welcome till’t for a’ that.

[This is received with an uproar of acclamation. The doxy climbs up on to the table besideBurns,and shouts above the din, ‘A chorus, a chorus, and then for the road!’and they sing in chorus.]

A fig for those by law protected!Liberty’s a glorious feast!Courts for cowards were erected,Churches built to please the priest.Life is all a variorum,We regard not how it goes;Let them cant about decorumWho have characters to lose.

A fig for those by law protected!Liberty’s a glorious feast!Courts for cowards were erected,Churches built to please the priest.

A fig for those by law protected!

Liberty’s a glorious feast!

Courts for cowards were erected,

Churches built to please the priest.

Life is all a variorum,We regard not how it goes;Let them cant about decorumWho have characters to lose.

Life is all a variorum,

We regard not how it goes;

Let them cant about decorum

Who have characters to lose.

[The Beggars depart, to the music that brought them,Burnsexchanging farewells as they pass through the door. The villagers follow them, except one lying in a drunken sleep on the floor.Burns,Armour,Holy Willie,theFactor,Tam,theLandlord,andNellare allthat remain. The room is now in confusion, filled with fumes, the floor stained with liquor, tankards lying about, a litter of straw and oddments of rags left by the Beggars.]

Burns: And that, your reverences, is life too. They’ll all come to the Day of Judgment with the rest of us. Miserable sinners, God bless them. Is there anyone to say God bless you, think you?

Armour: Let us pass.

Burns: Aye, in a moment. That tune has just put another rhyme to shape—I’ld have you hear it before you go.

Holy Willie: You heard what Mr. Armour told you. There’s a warrant coming this way. Now for the reckoning.

The Landlord(coming forward): Aye, the reckoning.

Burns(his hand going uselessly to his pockets): Yes, landlord. How much is it?

The Landlord: Four shillings and a penny.

Burns: Four—not a penny even. There now. Wouldn’t one of you gentlemen—?

Holy Willie: For shame, young man.

Burns: It was a good mumming, worth it surely. Mr. Armour, it would be an act of grace—a soul might almost be saved for four shillings and a penny.

The Landlord: Let it be, let it be. I’d have none of their pence. Wipe it out, Nell.

[Nellcleans the slate.]

Burns: That’s honour for you, true bred out of Elysium. I have it all in my head now. You with your rank and your rents and your holy purses and your grand little airs, listen.

[To the tune of‘I am a bard of no regard,’he sings, in a passion of conviction now.]

Is there, for honest poverty,That hings his head, and a’ that?The coward-slave, we pass him by,We dare be poor for a’ that!For a’ that, and a’ that,Our toils obscure, and a’ that,The rank is but the guinea’s stamp,The man’s the gowd for a’ that!Ye see yon birkie, ca’d a lord,Wha struts, and stares, and a’ that;Though hundreds worship at his word,He’s but a cuif for a’ that:For a’ that, and a’ that;His ribband, star, and a’ that,The man of independent mindHe looks and laughs at a’ that!Then let us pray that come it may—(As come it will for a’ that)That Sense and Worth, o’er a’ the earth,May bear the gree, and a’ that;For a’ that, and a’ that,It’s comin’ yet for a’ that,That man to man, the world o’er,Shall brothers be for a’ that!

Is there, for honest poverty,

That hings his head, and a’ that?

The coward-slave, we pass him by,

We dare be poor for a’ that!

For a’ that, and a’ that,

Our toils obscure, and a’ that,

The rank is but the guinea’s stamp,

The man’s the gowd for a’ that!

Ye see yon birkie, ca’d a lord,Wha struts, and stares, and a’ that;Though hundreds worship at his word,He’s but a cuif for a’ that:For a’ that, and a’ that;His ribband, star, and a’ that,The man of independent mindHe looks and laughs at a’ that!

Ye see yon birkie, ca’d a lord,

Wha struts, and stares, and a’ that;

Though hundreds worship at his word,

He’s but a cuif for a’ that:

For a’ that, and a’ that;

His ribband, star, and a’ that,

The man of independent mind

He looks and laughs at a’ that!

Then let us pray that come it may—(As come it will for a’ that)That Sense and Worth, o’er a’ the earth,May bear the gree, and a’ that;For a’ that, and a’ that,It’s comin’ yet for a’ that,That man to man, the world o’er,Shall brothers be for a’ that!

Then let us pray that come it may—

(As come it will for a’ that)

That Sense and Worth, o’er a’ the earth,

May bear the gree, and a’ that;

For a’ that, and a’ that,

It’s comin’ yet for a’ that,

That man to man, the world o’er,

Shall brothers be for a’ that!

[While he sings, a man of bearing and authority has come in and taken a seat quietly at the back, unobserved. He now comes forward.]

Burns: Mr. Hamilton. A respectful good-even to you.

Gavin Hamilton: Well sung, Robert. A new one?

Burns: Yes, Mr. Hamilton.

Hamilton: I hear of trouble.

Burns: These gentlemen could tell you.

Hamilton: No doubt. They would find it an agreeable narrative. I know them.

Holy Willie: I’ll trouble you, Mr. Hamilton, to keep your offensive observations to yourself.

Hamilton: But why, when I part with them so suitably in your company?

[ASheriff’s Officercomes in.]

The Officer: Are you Robert Burns?

Burns: I am.

The Officer(serving a warrant): In the King’s name.

Hamilton: What is this?

Burns: I’m a ruined man, Mr. Hamilton. Mr. Armour’s daughter—I can’t pay—and he won’t let me wed her as I would.

Armour: He will not. And he will bid you good-night.

[He goes,Holy Willieand theFactorwith him.]

Hamilton(taking the warrant, and speaking to theOfficer): Perhaps you could keep this till to-morrow afternoon?

The Officer: If Mr. Hamilton asks me to.

Hamilton: You may bring it to my house.

The Officer: Certainly, sir.

[He goes.]

Hamilton: Robert, you’re a fool.

Burns: I believe you, Mr. Hamilton.

Hamilton: But I’m not going to see you destroyed by men of that tonnage. We must consider.

Burns: I had a fancy, but there’s no time now.

Hamilton: What was it?

Burns: If I could print some of my rhymes, and you and some like you, Mr. Hamilton, could get a little interest for me—

Hamilton: Good. Yes. Come to-morrow morning. We’ll talk of it. What was that factor fellow doing here?

Burns: Tam Laurie there.

Hamilton: O, it’s you.

Tam: I’m sorry to say it is, Mr. Hamilton.

Hamilton: Rent?

Tam: A week come Tuesday.

Hamilton: Yes. I think I might change his mind. Good-night, Robert.

Burns: Good-night, Mr. Hamilton.

The Landlord: I suppose, Mr. Hamilton (going to the slate), let me see, four shillings and a penny—

[ButHamiltonhas gone.]

The Landlord: No, quite so—not four shillings and a penny.

Burns: Never mind, landlord, when I’m laureate crowned, you shall supply the nectar.

The Landlord: Aye, and I’ll be more than four shillings and a penny out on that I take it. (Waking the sleeping man.) Now then, John Anderson, bed-time.

Burns: Good-night, landlord. Good-night, Nell. (He kisses her.) Come along, Tam. John Anderson, my jo, John, get up.

John(lifting himself, as uncertain as his speech): I was sleeping with the seven kings,and the Beast of the Apocalypse. I’m getting too old to be called before the sunrise.

Burns: Come with us my jo, John—we’ll take you home.

John: But I don’t wish to go home. There will only be a wifely exhortation, and I’m troubled by the seven Beasts of the Apocalypse.

Burns: This way. Take an arm, Tam.

[He sings.]

John Anderson, my jo, John,When we were first acquent;Your locks were like the raven,Your bonnie brow was brent;But now your brow is beld, John,Your locks are like the snaw;But blessings on your frosty pow,John Anderson, my jo.John Anderson, my jo, John,We clamb the hill thegither;And mony a canty day, John,We’ve had wi’ ane anither:Now we maun totter down, John,And hand in hand we’ll go;And sleep thegither at the foot,John Anderson, my jo.

John Anderson, my jo, John,

When we were first acquent;

Your locks were like the raven,

Your bonnie brow was brent;

But now your brow is beld, John,

Your locks are like the snaw;

But blessings on your frosty pow,

John Anderson, my jo.

John Anderson, my jo, John,We clamb the hill thegither;And mony a canty day, John,We’ve had wi’ ane anither:Now we maun totter down, John,And hand in hand we’ll go;And sleep thegither at the foot,John Anderson, my jo.

John Anderson, my jo, John,

We clamb the hill thegither;

And mony a canty day, John,

We’ve had wi’ ane anither:

Now we maun totter down, John,

And hand in hand we’ll go;

And sleep thegither at the foot,

John Anderson, my jo.

[They go down the road together.]

The Landlord: Good-night, lass. Lock the door. Leave chores till the morning.

Nell: Good-night, Mr. Lomas.

[TheLandlordgoes.]

[Nellputs a little of the confusion to rights, goes to the door, opens it and looks down the road. She comes into the room, leaving the door open, and, moving about, sings.]

O whistle, and I’ll come to you, my lad,O whistle, and I’ll come to you, my lad:Tho’ father and mother and a’ should gae mad,O whistle, and I’ll come to you, my lad.

O whistle, and I’ll come to you, my lad,

O whistle, and I’ll come to you, my lad:

Tho’ father and mother and a’ should gae mad,

O whistle, and I’ll come to you, my lad.

[She stands looking at the door for a moment. Then she goes to it, closes and locks it, and puts out the lamp. She goes out by the candlelight of the stairwaydoor, and leaves the scene in darkness, and the music continues as

THE CURTAIN FALLS

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