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.

[ANDREW sits down despondently and prepares to listen.

ANNET. Now hark you to this, Andrew, and turn it well over in your
mind. [She begins to sing: