“On looking over the banns-book, however, the worthy minister discovered that Jack’s marriage had been proposed twice at that church, and once at the new church, and, therefore, in conformity with the order of the bishop, the banns had to be put up twice more in the new church before the marriage could be solemnized.”
“What did the sailor say to that?”
“No sooner was this made intelligible to Jack than he began to overhaul the minister with a little of his old-fashioned lingo. ‘Wait a fortnight, Mr. Parson! No that I won’t for the West Indies; so you may just as well give over your palavering, and pick up your book. I came here to be spliced, and spliced I’ll be. Wait a fortnight! that’s a good un! Why, haven’t we made signals for three Sundays? how long would you keep us cruising about, while you are in snug quarters? The long and the short of it is this: Poll and me have come here to be spliced, and we’ll wait a fortnight for nobody.’”
“The sailor spoke his mind pretty freely, however.”
“The minister, knowing the free habits of sailors, bore Jack’s observations with great good humour, but told him it was utterly impossible to marry him. ‘I am sorry for it,’ said he, ‘but if you were to give me the navy of England I could not marry you.’ This remark was a broadside that almost laid Jack on his beam-ends, but he plucked up his spirit, went on another tack, and instead of rashly boarding his opponent, tried to enter on a friendly parley. ‘Why, look you, Mr. Parson,’ said he, ‘I’ll tell you how the land lies. I shall be off in a few days on a cruise, and if I goes to sea, and leaves Poll in port, she’ll get spliced to somebody else, before I comes back again, so you see I can’t wait a fortnight.’”
“Oh! oh! oh! Then he was afraid to trust Poll, though he was going to marry her.”
“Jack’s rhetoric, however, was all in vain, for the minister told him, that if he must be married that day, there was no other way than going to Doctors’ Commons for a license. ‘And who’s Doctor Commons,’ inquired Jack; ‘and what will the shiners be?’ No sooner were these questions answered, than away goes Jack. ‘Never mind, Poll; never mind, Mr. Parson! I’ll soon be back.’ Saying this, he quits the church, jumps into a coach at the coach-stand near the church gates, and gets under weigh to Doctors’ Commons, telling the coachman, that if he did not sail right afore the wind he should get no shot out of his locker.”
“The sailor was in right earnest about the matter.”
“The morning was wearing away, and there was but little time to spare, but Jack came back in as fine style as if he were chasing an enemy’s frigate. Nimbly as a harlequin he skips along the churchyard, and makes for the altar, holding the license in his hand, crying out ‘All’s right, Poll! all’s right, Mr. Parson! Here’s the bit o’ paper! plenty of time. Never mind, Poll! all’s right!’ It was of little use that the clergyman tried to prevail on Jack to behave with the gravity and decorum fitting the place and the occasion, so much were his spirits excited. When the clergyman examined the paper, he found, so far from things being all right, that all was wrong, for the license set forth that the marriage was to take place at the new church, and not at the church they were then in. ‘Never mind, Poll! Never mind, Mr. Parson! plenty of time!’ cried out the undaunted sailor; and what with pushing Poll, and hurrying on the parson, he got them into another hackney coach, and set off for the new church—the distance was very short.”
“He deserved to be married, for all his trouble; surely he was not again disappointed?”