Enter Robert and Clown.
Wid. Here's witness[es]. [To Robert.] Come hither, sir—cousin I must call you shortly; and you, sirrah, be witness to this match; here's man and wife.
Rob. I joy at mine uncle's happiness, widow.
Clown. I do forbid the banns: alas! poor shag-rag, my mistress does but gull him. [To Stephen.] You may imagine it to be twelfth-day at night, and the bean found in the corner of your cake, but 'tis not worth a vetch, I'll assure you[75].
Wid. You'll let me dispose of myself, I hope?
Clown. You love to be merry, mistress: come, come, give him four farthings, and let him go. He'll pray for his good dame, and be drunk. Why, if your blood does itch that way, we'll stand together. [Places himself by the side of Stephen.] How think you? I think here is the sweeter bit; [Pointing to himself] you see this nit[76], and you see this louse! you may crack o' your choice, if you choose here.
Wid. You have put me to my choice, then; see, here I choose: this is my husband; thus I begin the contract. [Kisses Stephen.
Steph. 'Tis sealed; I am thine. Now, coz, fear no black storms: if thy father thunder, come to me for shelter.
Wid. His word is now a deed, sir.
Rob. I thank you both. Uncle, what my joy conceives, I cannot utter yet.