Aml. What a cherry lip is there!
Dick. Therefore, good dear mother, now have a care and don't discover me; for if you do, all's lost.
Aml. Dear, dear, how thy fair bride will be delighted: Go, get thee gone, go: Go fetch her home, go fetch her home; I'll give her a sack-posset, and a pillow of down she shall lay her head upon. Go fetch her home, I say.
Dick. Take care then of the main chance, my dear mother; remember, if you discover me——
Aml. Go, fetch her home, I say.
Dick. You promise me then——
Aml. March.
Dick. But swear to me——
Aml. Be gone, sirrah.