"The understanding of my head doth tell me so. In the days of our fathers there was no marriage save that a man did go out and find her whom his heart loved and take her. If one were not enough, he took two. If two did not suffice, he took three."
"And if three were not enough," Martha observed, laughing, "he took a score."
"Yea, a score. Then thinkest thou our fathers had naught to do but make great processions?"
"Much I like the procession, the veil, the flowers, the sweetmeats and all this that maketh marriage."
"But all this maketh not the marriage, Martha. Naught but love hath power to make the marriage."
"Ever thou maketh much of love, Mary."
"The blessing of the priest can not take the place of it when a man and a woman unite to abide under one roof."
"Maybe so," Martha assented, going back to the chest, "but see thou my girdle of jewels from the Far East. Come thou and look once again at my goodly store. A long time have I been getting my chest filled against the day I am the bride of Joel."
"And an outfit thou hast worthy an Asmonean princess, while my chest hath little in it save my alabaster vase of very precious perfume."
"Fragrant will it make thy wedding veil."