MARY

Ye’re an old fraud. Ye kent aw the time. Oh, Jock, Jock, A thocht ye wis kill’t.

JOCK

Ye thocht wrang. A’m no the deein’ kin’. So ye’ll huv me?

MARY

Aye.

JOCK

A’ll awa roon’ an’ see the meenister aboot pittin’ up the banns when ma airm’s set. A’ll be huvin’ some time on ma hauns. A think gettin’ mairrit ‘ll fill in the time beautiful.

CURTAIN