Methinks your lordship looks very sharp, and bleak i'the
face, and mighty puffed i'the body.
_Non_. O, the devil! Wretched men, that we are all! Nothing
grieves me, but that, in my old age, when others are past
child-bearing, I should come to be a disgrace to my family.
_Const_. How do you, sir? Your eyes look wondrous dim. Is not
there a mist before 'em?
_Isa_. Do you not feel a kicking in your belly--When do you look,
uncle?
_Non_. Uh, uh!--Methinks, I am very sick o'the sudden.
_Isa_. What store of old shirts have you against the good time?
Shall I give you a shift, uncle?
_Non_. Here's like to be a fine charge towards! We shall all be
brought to-bed together! Well, if I be with devil, I will have such
gossips: an usurer, and a scrivener, shall be godfathers.
_Isa_. I'll help you, uncle; and Sawney's two grannies shall be
godmothers. The child shall be christened by the directory; and the
gossips' gifts shall be the gude Scotch kivenant.
_Const. Set. Non. Tob. Amb_. Uh! uh! uh!
_Isa_. What rare music's here!
_Non_. Whene'er it comes from me, 'twill kill me; that's certain.
_Set_. Best take a vomit.
_Isa_. An't come upward, the horns will choke him.
_Non_. Mass! and so they will.
_Isa_. Your only way, is to make sure o'the man-midwife.
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