Bold. Nay, madam, yet she is not satisfied.
[Bold gives her a ring, and she puts it on her thumb.
Wid. Further, before ye all I take this ring,
As an assumpsit, by the virtue of which
I bind myself in all my lands and goods,
That in his choice I'll be no hindrance;
Or by forbidding banns, or claiming him
Myself for mine, but let the match go on
Without my check, which he intendeth now:
And once again I say, I bind myself.
Bold. Then, once again I say, widow, thou'rt mine!
Priest, marry us: this match I did intend:
Ye all are witnesses; if thou hinder it,
Widow, your lands and goods are forfeit mine.
Wid. Ha! nay, take me too, since there's no remedy.
Your widow (without goods) sells scurvily.
Omnes. Whoop! God give you joy.
Count. 'Slight! I am cosened of all sides; I had good hope of the widow myself; but now I see everybody leaves me, saving um, um, um!
Bold. Troth, my lord, and that will stick by you, I warrant.
Wid. But how, sir, shall we salve this gentlewoman?
Bold. Hang her, whore.
Well. Fie! you are too uncivil.