“Our marriage lines, sir. His and mine. Know you not that we are betrothed?”
“Before witnesses?”
“Ay, sure. My poor father and Martin Wittenhaagen.”
“This is the first I ever heard of it. How came they in his hands? They should be in yours.”
“Alas, sir, the more is my grief; but I ne'er doubted him; and he said it was a comfort to him to have them in his bosom.”
“Y'are a very foolish lass.”
“Indeed I was, sir. But trouble teaches the simple.”
“'Tis a good answer. Well, foolish or no, y'are honest. I had shown ye more respect at first, but I thought y'had been his leman, and that is the truth.”
“God forbid, sir! Denys, methinks 'tis time for us to go. Give me my letter, sir!”
“Bide ye! bide ye! be not so hot for a word! Natheless, wife, methinks her red cheek becomes her.”