Wid. No, I bar that, sir; let's begin honestly, howe'er we end: marry, for the waste of my estate, spare it not; do thy worst.
Steph. I'll do bad enough, fear it not.
Wid. Come, will you walk, sir?
Steph. No, widow, I'll stand to no hazard of blind bargains; either promise me marriage, and give me earnest in a handfast, or I'll not budge a foot.
Wid. No, sir? are you grown so stout already?
Steph. I'll grow stouter when I'm married.
Wid. I hope thou'lt vex me.
Steph. I'll give you cause, I'll warrant you.
Wid. I shall rail and curse thee, I hope; yet I'd not have thee give over neither; for I would be vexed. Here's my hand! I am thine, thou art mine: I'll have thee with all faults.
Steph. You shall have one with some, an' you have me.