Andrew. But I would sooner take blows from you than sweet words from another, Millie.
Annet. I could never find it in my heart to—I mean, ’tis as well that you should get used to blows, seeing we’re to be wed, Andrew.
Andrew. Then ’tis to be! O Millie, this is brave news—Why, I do scarcely know whether I be awake or dreaming.
Annet. [Very sadly.] Very likely you’ll be glad enough to be dreaming a month from now, poor Andrew.
Andrew. [Drawing nearer.] I am brave, Millie, now that you speak to me so kind and gentle, and I’ll ask you to name the day.
Annet. [Shrinking back.] O ’twill be a very long distance from now, Andrew.
Andrew. Millie, it seems to be your pleasure to take up my heart and play with it same as a cat does with the mouse.
Annet. [Becoming gay and hard in her manner.] Your heart, Andrew? ’Twill go all the better afterwards if ’tis tossed about a bit first.
Andrew. Put an end to this foolishness, Mill, and say when you’ll wed me.
Annet. [Warding him off with her hand.] You shall have my answer in a new song Andrew, which I have been learning.