Читать книгу A Satire Anthology - Wells Carolyn - Страница 8

MARRY, I lent my gossip my mare, to fetch hame coals,

And he her drounit into the quarry holes;

And I ran to the consistory, for to pleinyie,

And there I happenit amang ane greedie meinyie.

They gave me first ane thing they call citandum,

Within aucht days I gat but libellandum;

Within ane month I gat ad opponendum;

In half ane year I gat inter-loquendum;

And syne I gat – how call ye it? —ad replicandum;

Bot I could never ane word yet understand him:

And then they gart me cast out mony placks,

And gart me pay for four-and-twenty acts.

Bot or they came half gate to concludendum,

The fiend ane plack was left for to defend him.

Thus they postponed me twa year with their train,

Syne, hodie ad octo, bade me come again;

And then their rooks they rowpit wonder fast

For sentence, silver, they cryit at the last.

Of pronunciandum they made me wonder fain,

Bot I gat never my gude gray mare again.