Sawny. A well a well then good day to you good-mither, ye maun gar Kate tak me or thief tak you a’ the gither, I’ll hame and tell the length its come, an’ it come nae farther it maun e’en stick there.—Off he goes tacking about like a ship against the wind, as if he would knock holes in the wa’s and windows wi’ his elbows, he looked as fierce as a lion; wi’ a red face like a trumpeter, and his nose was like a bublie-cocks neb, as blue as a blawirt; but or he wan half way, his head turned heavier nor his heels, and many a filthy fa’ he got, through thick and thin he plash’d, till hame he gets at last, grunting and graping by the wa’s, that auld Mary his mither thought it was their neighbour’s sow, he was so bedaubed wi’ dirt, gets him to bed, he was in a boiling barrel fever, and poor Mary grat wi’ grief.
Sawny. Hech hey co’ Sawny, but courting be a curst wark, and costly, an’ marriage be as mortifying and murdering, the devil may be married for me.
Mither. Wa, Sawny man what’s come o’er thee now, thou’s gotten skaith, some auld wife has witcht thee,[40] or the deel has dung thee o’er in some dirty midden, my bairn’s elf-shot; whar has thou been, or what hast thou seen, thy een reels like a wild cat, and the sweat is hailing o’er thy nose, thou’s witcht, O man what will I do!
Sawny. Bock, bock co’ Sawny, but it couldna win up wi’ bubbles and herrin banes, o’ co’ Sawny put me in my bed, for my days will soon be done, a curse on your courting wark, for its kill’d me, and wives is but wicked things I ken by the same.
Mither. O dole! dole my bairn has gotten poison, for the smell o’t is like poison to me.
Sawny. Gin herrin and het ale be poison, there’ll no be mony left alive: Bock co’ Sawny, the bed’s filld.
Mither. My bairn thou was ay a cleanly bairn till now, thou’s surely lost thy senses when thou files where thou lies as the brute beasts does, thou never did the like o’ this before since thou left cakying o’ the cradle.
N.B.—The third Part gives a further account of the Courtship and Marriage, &c.