You must have your cloak and hood.

'Tis very cold; and, by Heavens, Nan, you shall never want while I have a guinea.

But you see I'm poor now, curse it--I'm poor--I'm sorry, Nan, and I have only this one about me.' 'Oh, no, Masther Richard, keep it--maybe you'd want it yourself.' 'No, child, don't vex me--there--I'll have money in a week or two, and I'll send you some more, Nan--I'll not forget you.' He said this in a sadder tone; 'and, Nan, I'm a changed man.

All's over, you know, and we'll see one another no more.

You'll be happier, Nan, for the parting, so here, and now, Nan, we'll say good-bye.' 'Oh! no--no--no--not good-bye; you couldn't--couldn't--couldn't--your poor wild Nan.' And she clung to his cloak, sobbing in wild supplication.
'Yes, Nan, good-bye, it must be--no other word.' 'An' oh, Masther Richard, is it in airnest?
You wouldn't, oh! sure you wouldn't.' 'Now, Nan, there's a good girl; I must go.