Girzy. A weel, John, then, will ye tak me; I hae nae bastards; how will you and I do?
John. I wat na gin ye be able to get a bastard, yet ye may hae some waur faut; but ye maun be my pennyworth, for ye’re unco little, and I’m o’er muckle, and gin ye and I war ance carded through ither, we may get bonny weans o’ a middlen mak. I hae nae fauts to ye, but ye hae a high breast, a humph back, a short neck, and high shouthers, the hands and legs may do, tho’ your mouth be a wee to the tae side it will lie weel to the rock, and I hae a hantle o’ tow to spin, will be baith sarks and sacks till us, ye’ll be my soncy dauty, up and down; a perfect beauty, wi’ cat’s yellow een, black brous, and red lips, and your very nose is a purple colour; ye hae nae fauts at a’. Now, whan will we be married?
Girzy. Ha, ha, John lad, we maun think on that yet.
John. What the yeltow, lass, should na ye be ready whan I’m ready, and every body says that the woman’s aye ready.
Goodman. Ye’ll hae to come back and bring somebody wi’ you, and we’ll gree about it, and set the day whan ye’ll be married.
John. A weel, goodman, I’ll tell my mither o’t, and come back on Monday, and we’ll hae a chappin o’ ale, and roasted cheese on the chance o’t, but I maun hae a word o’ the bride out by, to convoy me, and a quiet speak to hersel about it.
Goodwife. A wow na, John, the daft loons will laugh at you, and she’ll think shame, gang ye out by, and she’ll speak to you through the gavel window.
Out goes John, and the bride, and her twa sisters goes to the window within to hear the diversion, and what he would say. Now says John, Girzy my dear, my braw pretty woman, an ye be in earnest, tell me, for by my suth I’m no scorning.
Girzy. Indeed, John, I’m very willing to tak ye, but ye needna tell every body about it.
John. Then gie me a kiss on that.