Page:Ancient history of three bonnets (NLS104184532).pdf/12

For he began now to be flied,
She'd wile the honours frae his head,
Syne with a ſtern and canker'd look,
He thus reprov'd his brother Jouk.
Briſtle. Thou vile diſgrace of our forbears,
Wha lang with valiant dint of weirs,
Maintain'd their right 'gainſt a' intruſions
Of our auld faes the Roſycrucians,
Doſt thou deſign a laſt to catch
Us in a girn with this baſe match,
And for the hauding up thy pride,
Upon thy brither's riggins ride:
I'll ſee you hang'd, and her the gither,
As high as Haman in a tether,
Ere I with my ain Bonnet quat,
For any barrow'd beaver hat,
Whilk I, as Roſie takes the fikees,
Maun wear or no juſt as ſhe likes:
Then let me hear nae mair about her,
For if ye dare again to mutter,
Sic vile propoſal in my hearing,
Ye need nae truſt to my forbearing;
For ſoon my beard will tak a low.
And I ſhall crack your crazy pow.
Bard. This ſaid, brave Bristle ſaid nae mair,
But cock'd his Bonnet with an air,
Wheel'd round with gloomy brows & muddy,
And left his brither in a ſtuddy.