Jock.] A mony thanks' to you Mess John, now cause you hae chrisened baith my bairn an my bystart, I hope you’ll forgive me the buttock mail.
Min.] John I desire you to be silent and to speak none here: You must keep a straight walk in time coming, free of scandal or offence.
Jock.] Ay stir, an how think ye the like o’ me car wa’k straight wi’ auld sheveling heel’d shune as mine amang sic rugh rigs, highs and hows as I hae to har through.
Min.] I need not speak to you, you are but a poor mean ignorant person.
Jock.] Na stir, welta wat am neither poor nor yer mean, my mither’s fairly yerded now, guide be thanked, an left a’ she had to Maggy an me.
Min.] But hear ye this John, ye must not kiss any other women but your own wife, live justly like another honest christian, and you’ll come to die well.
Jock.] A black end on a me stir, an ever I lay; unlawfu’ leg upon hissie again, an they sude lie down to me, while our Maggy lass; an for dying there’ nae fear o’ that, but I’ll no get fair play if ye an a the aulder fouk in the parish be not dead before me so I hae done wi’ ye now.
AN
EPITAPH.
HERE lies the dust of John Bell’s mither,
Against her will, death brought her hither;
Clapt in this hole, hard by his dady,
Death snatch’d her up, ere she was ready;
Lang might she liv’d wert not her wame,
But wha can live beyond their time?
There non laments her but the Suter,
So here she lies looking about her;
Looking about her! how can that be?
Yes, she sees her state better than we.
