“The dule ’s i’ this bonnet o’ mine”

Lancashire Dialect THE DULE ’S i’ this bonnet o’ mine: My ribbins ’ll never be reet; Here, Mally, aw ’m like to be fine, For Jamie ’ll be comin’ to-neet; He met me i’ th’ lone t’ other day (Aw war gooin’ for wayter to th’ well), An’ he begged that aw ’d wed him i’ May, Bi th’ mass, if he ’ll let me, aw will! When he took my two honds into his, Good Lord, heaw they trembled between! An’ aw durstn’t look up in his face, Becose on him seein’ my een. My cheek went as red as a rose; There ’s never a mortal con tell Heaw happy aw felt,—for, thae knows, One couldn’t ha’ axed him theirsel’. But th’ tale wur at th’ end o’ my tung: To let it eawt wouldn’t be reet, For aw thought to seem forrud wur wrung; So aw towd him aw ’d tell him to-neet. But, Mally, thae knows very weel, Though it isn’t a thing one should own, Iv aw ’d th’ pikein’ o’ the world to mysel’, Aw ’d oather ha Jamie or noan. Neaw, Mally, aw ’ve towd thae my mind; What would to do iv it wur thee? “Aw ’d tak him just while he ’se inclined, An’ a farrantly bargain he ’ll be; For Jamie’s as greadly a lad As ever stept eawt into th’ sun. Go, jump at thy chance, an’ get wed; An’ mak th’ best o’ th’ job when it ’s done!” Eh, dear! but it ’s time to be gwon: Aw shouldn’t like Jamie to wait; Aw connut for shame be too soon, An’ aw wouldn’t for th’ wuld be too late. Aw ’m o’ ov a tremble to th’ heel: Dost think ’at my bonnet ’ll do? “Be off, lass,—thaw looks very weel; He want noan o’ th’ bonnet, thae foo!”