“I warned mine also,” said the first speaker, “when he began, but he did not leave off working, and hurried on like a hungry man who had been deprived of my company for two nights.”
When they were attired, they went to find their husbands, who were already dressed;
“Good morning, good morning! you sleepers!” cried the ladies.
“Thank you,” said the men, “for having called us.”
“By my oath!” said one lady. “We have no more qualms of conscience for not calling you than you have for breaking your vow.”
“What vow?” said one of the men.
“The vow,” said she, “that you made on leaving, not to sleep with your wife.”
“And who has slept with his wife?” asked he. “You know well enough,” said she, “and so do I.”
“And I also,” said her companion. “Here is my husband who never gave me such a tumbling as he did last night—indeed if he had not done his duty so well I should not be so pleased that he had broken his vow, but I pass over that, for I suppose he is like young children, who when they know they deserve punishment, think they may as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.”
“By St. John! so did mine!” cried the third. “But I am not going to scold him for it. If there was any harm done there was good reason for it.”