Jock. ’Tis a’ true, Maggy, but fouks may do it ance or they be married, and no hae nae ill in their minds.
Mag. Aha, Johnny, mony a ane has been beguiled wi’ ance; and do it ance, ye may do it aye. What an ye get a bystart, and hae to suffer for the foul act of fornication.
Jock. Ay, but my mither says, if I dinna get thee wi’ bairn, I’ll no get thee, for ’tis the surest way of wooing.
Mag. Indeed, Johnny, I like you better nor ony lad I see; an I sall marry you an ance my faither’s muck were out; my mither downa work at the midden.
Jock. Ah Maggy, Maggy! I’m feared ye beguile me, and then my mither will murder me for being so silly.
Mag. My jo, Johnny, tell your mither to provide a’ things for the bridal and I sall marry you in three ouks after this; but we maun gie in siller to the Precentor, a groat and a drink to the bellman, and then the kirk wa’s maun hear o’t three Sundays or it come.
Jock. But Maggy, I’m not to mak a blind bargain wi you nor nae body; I maun ken of your things, and you sall ken of mine.
Mag. I ken well what I was to get, and gin my mither likes the bargain weel, she’ll mak it better; but an my father be angry at the bargain, I darna speak of marrying.
Jock. I seena how he can be angry. I wat well I’m a gay sturdy fallow, when I laid a bow and five pecks of beer on the Laird’s Bawsy, and he’s as bilshy a beast as in a’ the barony.
Mag. Ay, but my mither is aye angry at ony body that evens themselves to me, an it binna them she likes, indeed she bade me tak ony body, if it wasna auld tottering Tammy; for his beard is aye brown wi’ sucking tobacco, and slavers a’ the breast of his fecket.