you talk merrily, Mother Bunch. Well, Daughter, quoth Mother Bunch, you may term it as you please; but I will appeal to your own conscience, whether or no you would be glad, with all your heart, of a kind and loving husband.
Dear Mother, quoth Margery, you come quite close to the matter; and if I may be so free as to speak my own mind, I could willingly embrace such a one; for though house-keeping is said, to be very chargeable often, yet on the other hand, a married state is honourable. Thou sayest well, Daughter, quoth Mother Bunch, and if thou hast a mind to see the man whom thou shalt marry, then follow strictly my directions, and you shall not fail of your desire. Let me see—this is St. Luke's day, which I have found by long study, to be of greater use to that purpose, than that of the celebrated St. Agnes, which I formerly recommended you to; and the ingredients now to be used, are of a quite different and finer quality, and far more excellent for performing the. same.
Now I would have you take some marigold flowers, a large sprig of sweet marjoram, a sprig of fresh thyme, and a small quantity of wormwood; dry these together before the fire, till you may, ruh them to a powder; then sift the same thro' a piece of fine lawn: This being done, take a small quantity of virgin honey, and right white-wine vinegar, and simmer them together in a new earthen poringer, over a mild and gentle fire; all which being done, anoint your breasts and stomach, and lips, likewise, with the same, just the moment you are lying down in your bed; always remembering, to repeat these words three times.
St. Luke, St. Luke, be kind to me,
And let me now my true love see.
