Page:A tale of Three bonnets(NLS104186701).pdf/10

Ye look as spruth as ane that's wooing,
fer ye lad what ye've been doing.
⁠Jouk My very much respected brither,
Should we hide ought tras ang abither!
And not, when warm'd by the lime blood,
Consult ilk ane anither's good;
Bod be it kend t'ye; my design,
Will profit prove to me and mine
⁠Bris. Ana brither, troth it much commends
Your virtue thus to love your friends,
It maks me blyth, for alt I said,
Ye were a clever mettl'd lad.
⁠Jouk. And sae I hope will ever prove,
If ye befriend me in my love;
For Rosie bonny rich and gay,
And sweet as flowers in June and May;
Her gear I'll get, nor sweets I'll rifle,
If you but yield me up a trifle.
Promile to do't and ye's be free
With ony thing pertains to be.
⁠Bris. I lang to answer your demand,
And never shall for trifles stand
⁠Jouk. Then the disires as a z propine,
Theese Bonnets, Bawsy's yours and mile,
And well I wat, that's nae great matter;
If I sae easily can get her.
⁠Bris. Ha, ha! se Judas, are ye there?
The D——el then nor the ne'er get mair,
Is that the trifle that ye spoke of?
Wha think ye Sir, ye mak a mock of?
Ye ailly, manaworn, acant o' grace,
Swith, let me never see your face,