Jock. Indeed, Maggy, the fouk of your town and the fouk of our town says we are gaun to be married. What sayest thou?
Mag. I wish we ne’er do waur, man. O Johnny, I dream’d of you langsyne, and I liket you aye after that.
Jock. O Maggy, Maggy, dost thou not mind since I came to your father’s bull wi’ my mother’s cow, ye ken she wadna stand, and ye helped me to haud her; aye after that they scorn’d me, that I wad be married to you.
Mag. It’s very true man, it’ll be an odd thing and it be; but it’ll na fa’ back at my door, I assure you.
Jock. Nor at mine—But my mither bade me kiss ye.
Mag. Indeed sall ye. Johnny, thou’s no want twa kisses, ane on every side of the mouth, man.
Jock. Ha, ha, Maggy, I’ll hae a merry night of kissing you shortly.
Mag. Ay, but Johnny, you maun stay till that night come; it’s best to keep the feast till the feast day.
Jock. Dinna be angry, Maggy, my wife to be; for I have heard my mither say in her daffin, that fouk sud aye try gin their house will haud their plenishing.
Mag. Ay, but Johnny, a wife is ae thing and a house anither; a man that’s a-mind to marry a woman, he’ll no make her a whore.