Sabina Silver. I misdoubt you. Kiss the book again. [Paul Ruttledge kisses it.
Charlie Ward. That's all right.
A Child. [Crying from a distance.] He's coming now, the priest's coming!
Paul Ruttledge. Then the priest will marry us. That comes in very handy.
Charlie Ward. [Scornfully.] A priest marry you, indeed he'll do nothing of the kind. I hate priests and friars. It's unlucky to get talking to them at all. You never know what trouble you're in for.
A Child. [Coming up.] That's true, indeed. The last time I spoke to a priest it's what he leathered me with a stick; may the divil fly away with him.
Paul Ruttledge. But somebody must marry us.
Charlie Ward. Of course. You'll lep over the tinker's budget the usual way. You'll just marry her by lepping over the budget the same as the rest of us marry.
Paul Ruttledge. That's all I want to know. Please marry me in whatever is your usual way.