In which a wren could scarcely lay her egg,—
Your tea-pot, pouring from its slender beak
Hot water, as it were some precious drug,
Must be, for fashion's sake, set in array
To please the Lowland lady.
HOUSEKEEPER.
My pretty playthings are in daily use,
As I hear say, in the great town of Edinburgh;
And 'tis a delicate and wholesome beverage
Which they are filled withal. I like, myself.
To sip a little of it.
BUTLER.
No doubt thou dost; aught stronger would offend thee.
Thou would'st, I think, call rue or wormwood sweet,
Were it the fashion in your town of Edinburgh.
But, hark! the bridal folks are at the door;
We must not parley longer. [Music without.]
I hear their piper playing the "Good-night."
Enter Allen.
BUTLER.
A merry evening, Allen?
