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But, Sir, says the Son, 'tis impossible: I can never be married to her; no Clergyman dares marry me to her.
What d'ye mean by that? says his Father.
Why, Sir, says the Son, either I must Lie and be Forsworn, or he can't marry me, and I hope you would not desire me either to Lie, or to be Perjured.
Don't tell me of Lying and Perjury, says the passionate Father, I don't enquire into your impertinent Cavils, I tell you, she will make a very good Wife for you, and, I say, you shall have her.
Well, Sir, says the Son, if you can make any Minister marry me to her.
What is it you mean, says the Father, to offer such Stuff to me? If you don't take her, it shall be worse for you; I tell you, you shall have her.
Why, Sir, says the Son, when he asks me, if I will take her? I may answer, I Will: But when he comes to say, Wilt thou love her? I must say, I Will not; I must lie, if I should say, I Will; and if he can marry me so, let him.
I don't make a Jest of it Son, says the Father, I expect you go and wait upon her, for I will have you marry her, I tell you.
Thus the Father laid it upon him hard; he put it off with this a great while, that he could not love her; but the Father insisted upon it, and threatened to disinherit him; and so he wickedly complied, married the Woman he hated, and forsook a young Lady that loved him, and that he was in love with; and he was unhappy, and cursed his Marriage to his dying Day; and so was the Woman he marriedalso.
