Well, John, I'm sure I little thought to vind
That you had ever sich a jealous mind.
What then! I s'pose that I must be a dummy,
An' mussen goo about nor wag my tongue
To any soul, if he's a man, an' young;
Or else you'll work yourzelf up mad wi' passion,
An' talk away o' gi'èn vo'k a drashèn,
An' breakèn bwones, an' beäten heads to pummy!
If you've a-got sich jealous ways about ye,
I'm sure I should be better off 'ithout ye.