Micio. At midnight,
So you’ll but smile to-day.
Dem. And that wench too
I’ll drag away with me.
Micio. Aye; there you’ve hit it.
For by that means you’ll keep your son at home;
Do but secure her.
Dem. I’ll see that: for there
I’ll put her in the kitchen and the mill,
And make her full of ashes, smoke, and meal: