MARTHA
You must not name it to your mother!
It would to shrift, just like the other.
MARGARET
Nay look at them! now only see!
MARTHA (dresses her up)
Thou happy creature!
MARGARET
Woe is me!
Them in the street I cannot wear,
Or in the church, or any where.
MARTHA
Come often over here to me,
The gems put on quite privately;
And then before the mirror walk an hour or so,
Thus we shall have our pleasure too.
Then suitable occasions we must seize,
As at a feast, to show them by degrees:
A chain at first, pearl ear-drops then,—your mother
Won't see them, or we'll coin some tale or other.