Wad be my queen, wad be my queen.
The Girl: That’s a favourite of the master’s.
Jean: It was our wedding song.
The Girl: It must be fine to be wed.
Jean: It’s fine, but it’s anxious.
The Young Man: How long have you been married, Mrs. Burns?
Jean: Married six years, wed three.
The Young Man: And you’re not tired of it?
Jean: I’ve had no time to get tired.
The Young Man: It’s different for women, I suppose. I should be scared of wedding—having to cleave to one, as they say.