If I do, pickle me in a barrel among cabbage.
She told me once, God's curse would overtake me,
For grinding of the poor: her turn's come now.
Guta. Will you, then, help her? She will pay you richly.
1st Peas. Ay? How, dame? How? Where will the money come from?
Guta. God knows--
1st Peas. And you do not.
Guta. Why, but last winter,
When all your stacks were fired, she lent you gold.
1st Peas. Well--I'll be generous: as the times are hard,
Say, if I take your letter, will you promise
To marry me yourself?
Guta. Ay, marry you,
Or anything, if you'll but go to-day:
At once, mind. [Giving him the letter.]
1st Peas. Ay, I'll go. Now, you'll remember?
Guta. Straight to her ladyship at Kitzingen.
God and His saints deal with you, as you deal
With us this day. [Exit.]
2d Peas. What! art thou fallen in love promiscuously?
1st Peas. Why, see, now, man; she has her mistress' ear;
And if I marry her, no doubt they'll make me
Bailiff, or land-steward; and there's noble pickings
In that same line.
2d Peas. Thou hast bought a pig in a poke:
Her priest will shrive her off from such a bargain.
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