"There was a poor young Woman who had brought herself even to Death's
Door with grief for her sick Husband, but the good Man her Father did
all he could to comfort her. _Come, Child_, said he, _we are all mortal.
Pluck up a good heart, my Child: for let the worst come to the worst, I
have a better Husband in store for thee. Alas, Sir_, says she, _what
d'ye talk of another Husband for? Why, you had as good have stuck a
Dagger to my Heart. No, no; if ever I think of another Husband, may--!_
Without any more ado, the Man dies, and the Woman, immediately breaks
into such Transports of tearing her Hair, and beating her Breast, that
everybody thought she'd have run stark-mad upon it. But, upon second
Thoughts, she wipes her Eyes, lifts them up, and cries, _Heaven's will
be done!_ and turning to her Father, _Pray Sir_, says she, _about t'
other Husband you were speaking of, is he here in the
House_?"--_Complete London Jester_, 1771, p. 49.
This story was appropriated by the editor of _Pasquil's Jests, mixed
with Mother Bunch's Merriments_, of which there were several editions,
the first appearing in 1604. In Pasquil's Jests, the tale is told of a
"young woman of Barnet."
_She rowned her father in the eare._
Gower (_Confessio Amantis_, ed. Pauli, Vol. 1. p. 161) has a precisely
similar expression:--
"But whan they rounenin her ere,
Than groweth all my moste fere."