[Much is just leaving to head Dickon off]
Much-the-Miller's-Son: [to Bess] Come on, lass! Give us a kiss and wish me luck!
[Bess kisses him and then smacks his face]
Bess: 'Urry up and take that ugly face of yours out of 'ere!
[Much turns to go]
Bess: [gently] Oh no. You will be careful, won't ye?
Much-the-Miller's-Son: Ha, of course I will!