"This said, hasten to sleep with all speed; then in the soft slumber of your night's repose the very man you are to marry shall appear before you walking to and fro near to your bedside, very plain and visible to be seen: you shall perfectly behold the colour of his hair, his visage, stature, and deportment. And if he be one that will prove faithful, he will approach you with a smile, and offer to salute you; which, when he does, do not seem to be overfond or peevishly froward, but receive the same with a becoming mild and modest smile. Now, if he be one that will, after marriage, forsake his house to wander after strange women, then will he offer to be rude and uncivil with thee, at which time thou shalt lift up thy hand to smite him; so doing, it will go well with thee, and thy guardian angel will keep thee ever safe. Daughter, these are rarities which I never before divulged. Do but put this in execution, and I am certain it will answer the desired effect." "I must needs thank you for your love," quoth Margery; "and so farewell, Mother Bunch." "Good-bye, daughter," she replied. "Let joy and pleasure crown your days, And a kind man your fortune raise." The next that appeared was Kate, the cloth-worker's daughter; then Doll, the dairymaid; Joan, Bridget, Nancy, and Phillis, in number about forty together, each of them crying out with a loud voice, "Dear Mother Bunch, remember me." "O remember me," quoth another; and so did they all, till they made the poor old woman's ears deaf with the clamorous noise. "My dear daughters," quoth Mother Bunch, "sit you all down and be quiet, for there is never a one amongst you but will partake of my bounty. Daughters, I will sit in the midst of you, where I shall read over a very interesting lecture. My real motive is to give you a full account of some rare and excellent curiosities, in my Golden Closet, newly broke open; declaring that it is my opinion that those things which are profitable to one maid may not be prejudicial, in any respect, to another, and this I shall begin. First, if any of you here desire to know the name of the man whom you shall marry, let her seek in the summer time for a green peasecod, in which there are nine pease; when you have done this, either write, or cause to be written, on a slip of paper, these words-- Come in, my dear, And never fear. "Writing which, you must carefully close within the aforesaid peasecod, and lay the same under the threshold of the door, and then observe the next man that comes into the house; for you shall certainly be married to one of the same name.