[He sings, she laughs.
MARGERY.
Nay, sing away if you like it!
DICK—(stopping suddenly.)
I won't sing another bit if you don't like it, Meg.
MARGERY.
Oh, I do like! Lord bless us! not like it! it sounds so merry! Why, Dick, love, every body said yesterday that you sung as well as Mr. Thingumee at Sadler's Wells, and says they, "Who is that young man as sings like any nightingale?" and I says (drawing herself up), "That's my husband!"
DICK.
Ay! flummery!—But, Meg, I say, how did you like the wedding yesterday?
MARGERY.