Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MUTUAL COMPLAINT OF PLAINSTANES AND CAUSEY, IN THEIR MOTHER-TONGUE, by ROBERT FERGUSSON


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

MUTUAL COMPLAINT OF PLAINSTANES AND CAUSEY, IN THEIR MOTHER-TONGUE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Since merlin laid auld reikie's causey
Last Line: And let our words gie place to toil.
Alternate Author Name(s): Ferguson, Robert
Subject(s): Conversation; Roads; Paths; Trails


Since Merlin laid Auld Reikie's causey,
And made her o' his wark right saucy,
The spacious street and plainstanes
Were never kend to crack but anes,
Whilk happened on the hinder night,
Whan Fraser's ulie tint its light;
Of Highland sentries nane were waukin,
To hear thir cronies glibly talkin;
For them this wonder might hae rotten,
And, like night robb'ry, been forgotten,
Had na a cadie, wi his lanthron,
Been gleg enough to hear them bant'rin,
Wha came to me neist morning early,
To gie me tidings o' this ferly.
Ye taunting louns trou this nae joke,
For anes the ass of Balaam spoke,
Better than lawyers do, forsooth,
For it spake naething but the truth:
Whether they follow its example,
You'll ken best whan you hear the sample.

PLAINSTANES
My friend, thir hunder years and mair,
We've been forfoughen late and air,
In sunshine, and in weety weather,
Our thrawart lot we bure thegither.
I never growl'd, but was content
Whan ilk ane had an equal stent,
But now to flyte I'se e'en be bauld,
Whan I'm wi sic a grievance thrall'd.
How haps it, say, that mealy bakers,
Hair-kaimers, crieshy gezy-makers,
Should a' get leave to waste their powders
Upon my beaux and ladies' shoulders?
My travellers are fley'd to deid
Wi creels wanchancy, heap'd wi breid,
Frae whilk hing down uncanny nicksticks,
That aften gie the maidens sic licks,
As make them blyth to screen their faces
Wi hats and muckle maun bon-graces,
And cheat the lads that fain wad see
The glances o' a pauky ee,
Or gie their loves a wylie wink,
That erst might lend their hearts a clink.
Speak, was I made to dree the ladin
Of Gallic chairmen heavy treadin,
Wha in my tender bouk bore holes
Wi waefu tackets i' the soals
O' broags, whilk on my body tramp,
And wound like death at ilka clamp?

CAUSEY
Weel crackit, friend -- it aft hads true,
Wi naething fock make maist ado:
Weel ken ye, tho' ye doughtna tell,
I pay the sairest kane mysel;
Owr me ilk day big waggons rumble,
And a' my fabric birze and jumble;
Owr me the muckle horses gallop,
Enough to rug my very saul up;
And coachmen never trou they're sinning,
While down the street their wheels are spinning.
Like thee, do I not bide the brunt
Of Highland chairman's heavy dunt?
Yet I hae never thought o' breathing
Complaint, or making din for naething.

PLAINSTANES
Had sae, and lat me get a word in,
Your back's best fitted for the burden;
And I can eithly tell you why,
Ye're doughtier by far than I;
For whin-stanes, howkit frae the craigs,
May thole the prancing feet of naigs,
Nor ever fear uncanny hotches
Frae clumsy carts or hackney-coaches,
While I, a weak and feckless creature,
Am moulded by a safter nature.
Wi mason's chissel dighted neat,
To gar me look baith clean and feat,
I scarce can bear a sairer thump
Than comes frae sole of shoe or pump.
I grant, indeed, that, now and than,
Yield to a paten's pith I maun;
But patens, tho' they're aften plenty,
Are ay laid down wi feet fou tenty,
And stroaks frae ladies, tho' they're teazing,
I freely maun avow are pleasing.
For what use was I made, I wonder,
It was na tamely to chap under
The weight of ilka codroch chiel
That does my skin to targets peel;
But gin I guess aright, my trade is
To fend frae skaith the bonny ladies,
To keep the bairnies free frae harms
Whan airing in their nurses' arms,
To be a safe and canny bield
For growing youth or drooping eild.
Take then frae me the heavy load
Of burden-bearers heavy-shod,
Or, by my troth, the gude auld town shall
Hae this affair before their council.

CAUSEY
I dinna care a single jot,
Tho' summon'd by a shelly-coat,
Sae leally I'll propone defences,
As get ye flung for my expenses;
Your libel I'll impugn verbatim,
And hae a magnum damnum datum;
For tho' frae Arthur's Seat I sprang,
And am in constitution strang,
Wad it no fret the hardest stane
Beneath the Luckenbooths to grane?
Tho' magistrates the Cross discard,
It makes na whan they leave the Guard,
A lumbersome and stinkin bigging,
That rides the sairest on my rigging.
Poor me owr meikle do ye blame,
For tradesmen tramping on your wame,
Yet a' your advocates and braw fock
Come still to me 'twixt are and twa 'clock,
And never yet were kend to range
At Charlie's Statue or Exchange.
Then tak your beaux and macaronies,
Gie me trades-fock and country Johnies;
The deil's in't gin ye dinna sign
Your sentiments conjunct wi mine.

PLAINSTANES
Gin we twa could be as auld-farrant
As gar the council gie a warrant,
Ilk loun rebellious to tak,
Wha walks not in the proper track,
And o' three shilling Scottish souk him,
Or in the water-hole sair douk him;
This might assist the poor's collection,
And gie baith parties satisfaction.

CAUSEY
But first, I think it will be good
To bring it to the Robinhood,
Whare we shall hae the question stated,
And keen and crabbitly debated,
Whether the provost and the bailies,
For the town's good whase daily toil is,
Should listen to our joint petitions,
And see obtemper'd the conditions.

PLAINSTANES
Content am I -- but east the gate is
The sun, wha taks his leave of Thetis,
And comes to wauken honest fock,
That gang to wark at sax o'clock;
It sets us to be dumb a while,
And let our words gie place to toil.





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