Harry.—How long were you a-courting her, before she gave consent to marry you?
Ned.—Why, about a year or more, and all that while I very little did mind myself for minding of her, for I was fain to watch her as a cat watcheth a mouse, for fear of a rival. At last I told her I hoped now she would consent to marry me, if not, to tell me so, for it was a great loss to me to lose my time so day after day. Upon these words she told me she thought I was in earnest, but she did not much like the house I lived in. I told her it was a very pretty house, and I should be glad to see her in it. Upon this she smiled and gave me her consent.
Harry.—Was you asked in the church, Ned, or had you a license?
Ned.—I went on purpose to ask her that question, and she told me she was a gentlewoman born, and did not care to be asked in the church, for, she said, there was nobody asked in the church but cook-maids and kitchen-maids, so it cost me about twenty shillings for a license. Well, married we were, and very merry were we that day.
Harry.—But now, Ned, in the second place, come tell me how you and your wife agree together, for I think it is said your York wives will be masters of their husbands in less than a year's time if possible they can. Well then, Ned, I do suppose it is with you as with most of your neighbours, your wife is the master?
Ned.—Faith, Harry, not much matter (scratching his head), but I doubt she'll come and find us together, and then there will be——
Harry.—What then, Ned, let her come, I have a mug or two at her service and shall be glad to see her.
Ned.—So shall not I, Harry.
Harry.—Why, Ned, how can she be angry with you when she sees you with an old acquaintance you have not seen for two or three years?
Ned.—That's nothing.