Min. Now, if I dared but tell ye—lud! lud! how I could surprise ye!——[Going.]
Inis. [Stopping her.] Don't go.
Min. I must go; I am on the very brink of betraying my mistress,—I must leave you—mercy upon me!—it rises like new bread.
Inis. I hope it will choke ye, if you stir till I know all.
Min. Will you never breathe a syllable?
Inis. Never.
Min. Will you strive to forget it the moment you have heard it?
Inis. I'll swear to myself forty times a-day to forget it.
Min. You are sure you will not let me stir from this spot till you know the whole?
Inis. Not as far as a thrush hops.