Mag. I am remarkably pretty, and I’ve a varra neat figure.
Ch. There is a natural modesty in this guileless appreciation of your own perfection that is, to me, infinitely more charming than the affected ignorance of an artificial town-bred beauty.
Mag. Oh, sir, can I close my een to the picture that my looking-glass holds up to me twenty times a day? We see the rose on the tree, and we say that it is fair; we see the silver moon sailing in the braw blue heavens, and we say that she is bright; we see the brawling stream purling over the smooth stanes i’ the burn, and we say that it is beautiful; and shall we close our een to the fairest of nature’s works—a pure and beautiful woman? Why, sir, it wad just be base ingratitude! No, it’s best to tell the truth about a’ things: I am a varra, varra, beautiful girl!
Ch. Maggie Macfarlane, I’m a plain, blunt, straightforward man, and I come quickly to the point. I see more to love in you than I ever saw in any woman in all my life before. I have a large income, which I do not spend recklessly. I love you passionately; you are the essence of every hope; you are the tree upon which the fruit of my heart is growing—my Past, my Present, my Future—you are my own To Come. Tell me, will you be mine—will you join your life with mine?
Enter Angus, who listens.
Mag. Ah, kind sir, I’m sairly grieved to wound sae true and tender a love as yours, but ye’re ower late, my love is nae my ain to give ye, it’s given ower to the best and bravest lad in a’ the bonnie Borderland!
Ch. Give me his address that I may go and curse him!
Mag. (kneels to Hill). Ah, ye must not curse him. Oh, spare him, spare him, for he is good and brave, and he loves me, oh, sae dearly, and I love him, oh, sae dearly too. Oh, sir, kind sir, have mercy on him, and do not—do not curse him, or I shall die! (Throwing herself at his feet.)
Ch. Will you, or will you not, oblige me by telling me where he is, that I may at once go and curse him?
Ang. (coming forward). He is here, sir, but dinna waste your curses on me. Maggie, my bairn (raising her), I heard the answer ye gave to this man, my true and gentle lassie! Ye spake well and bravely, Meg—well and bravely! Dinna heed the water in my e’e—it’s a tear of joy and gratitude, Meg—a tear of joy and gratitude!