_Ireton:_
By your leave I would marry Bridget.

_Cromwell:_
I dare say. You would be a very foolish young man else. And, what of
Bridget's leave?

_Bridget:_
He has that.

_Cromwell:_
I should think so, too. Well?

_Ireton:_
You consent?

_Cromwell:_
I could do nothing more gladly. You have chosen well, both of you. I
rejoice for you. But you must wait until this business we have in hand
is gathered up a little.

_Bridget:_
Yes, father. It is better so.

_Cromwell:_
Let your mother know of the betrothal. I will write as well.

_Bridget:_
To-night.