Barrels of strong ale and sparkling cider were broached on the grass; and plenty of substantial fare kept the knives and forks clattering under the marquees by the hedgerow.

The rude and hospitable feudalism of old times had not died out yet; marriage being an honourable estate, the bride and bridegroom did not steal away in a travelling carriage, trying to pass for something else, to unknown regions, but remained courageously upon the premises, the central figures of a genial gala.
Need I describe the wedding?
It always seems to me that I saw it, and see it still, I've heard the old folk talk it over so often.

The reader's fancy will take that business off my hands.

'What's a play without a marriage?
and what is a marriage if one sees nothing of it ?' says Sir Roger in Gay's tragi-comic pastoral.

'Let him have his humour, but set the doors wide open, that we may see how all goes on.' (_Sir Roger at the door, pointing_.) 'So natural! d'ye see now, neighbours?
The ring, i'faith.