“Tom, Tom,” said the Marquis, “such men as you and I, whose joints are enfeebled with the strokes of many years, must not think to win young maids, by promising to make them jointures of the mind, but will you make her Deputy of Deputy Hall? and landlady of all the land that is belonging to it? and mistress of all the stock that is upon the land, and goods that are within the house, and then you shall hear what my daughter[A] and her waiting woman will say unto you.”

“With all my heart,” said Tom, “and all the hogs and poultry that are about the house to boot, and she shall lie upon six feather-beds the first night.”

The Life, Times, and Scientific Labours of the Second Marquis of Worcester — Part 68

Matters being arranged after some jocular preliminary promises, Tom telling the bride that they were agreed, the lady drank to him, he promising to marry her after dinner; the only difficulty appearing to arise from the want of wedding clothes. The Marquis, willing to remove that obstacle, told Tom that he thought his clothes would fit him, and bid him go into his wardrobe, and take what he had a mind to.

The Life, Times, and Scientific Labours of the Second Marquis of Worcester — Part 68

“Give me your key,” said Tom; and receiving it, went up, and equipped himself with the Marquis’s beaver hat, satin cloak laid with plush, daubed with a gold and silver lace, suit of the same, silk-stockings, with roses and garters suitable, inside and outside, cap-a-pie, all as brave as if he carried a lordship on his back.

The Life, Times, and Scientific Labours of the Second Marquis of Worcester — Part 68

“The lady bride takes her woman aside, and dresses her in one of her richest and newest gowns, with all things answerable thereto, not without some store of slight jewels, and brings her down as glorious as the morn that breaks from the eastern hill, and chases night away.

“Tom acted this scene of mirth in the Hall, which proved to be a thing of that convenience, as if it had been an act of some set policy to keep the crowd out of the parlour, that the Masquers might have room enough to dance in. At last, when the Masque was ended, and Time had brought in supper, the Cushion led the dance out of the Parlour into the Hall,[B] and saluted the old new-made bridgroom and his lady, leading them into the parlour to a table which was furnished with the same allowance that was allotted for all the nobles; where they were soon forced to sit down,” and were bountifully served.