John. A deed goodman as ye’re ay dealing among dead beasts and living beasts, I wad put them awa amang ither beasts, or gin ye be aun ony penny, let some body tak them up o’ desperate debt, I sud flay the sikes frae them, they anger’d you an’ sham’d you baith wi’ their bastards, a wheen daft jades it gets men or they be married, and bairns or they get bridals.
Goodwife. A wat weel that’s true lad.
Girzy. A weel John than, will ye tak me, I hae nae bastards, how will you and I do?
John. I watna gin ye be able to get a bastard, yet ye may hae some war 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 cairded thro’ ither, we may get bonny weans o’ a midlen mak; I hae nae fauts to ye, but ye hae a high breast, a hump back, a short neck, and high shoulders, the hands and legs may do, tho’ your mouth be a wee bit to the tae side it will ly well to the rock and I hae a hantle o’ tow to spin, will be baith sarks and sacks till us, ye’ll be my sonsy dauty up and down; a perfect beauty, wi’ cats yellow een, black brows and red lips, and your very nose is a purpey 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, shoudna ye be ready whan I’m ready, and every body says that the women’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 well goodman I’ll tell my mither o’t, and come back on munonday, and we’ll hae a chappin o’ ale and roasted cheese on the gude chance o’t, but I maun hae a word o’ the bride outby to convoy me, an a quiet speak to hersel about it.
Good wife. A wow na John, the daft louns will laugh at you, and she’ll think shame, gang ye out by and she’ll speak to you thro’ the gavel window.