But I'm his mother—there's nothing I couldn't do for him.
MRS. HOLROYD
I don't care—I don't care.
GRANDMOTHER
Prithee, prithee, Lizzie, I don't want thee goin' off, Lizzie.
MRS. HOLROYD (moaning)
Oh, what shall I do!
GRANDMOTHER
Why, go thee an' get his feet washed. He's setting stiff, and how shall we get him laid out?