ROBIN
I warrant you I will.
MARIAN
It is a month
To-day since we were married. Did you know it?
Fie, I believe you had forgotten, Robin.
ROBIN
I had, almost. If marriage make the moons
Fly, as this month has flown, we shall be old
And grey in our graves before we know it.
I wish that we could chain old Father Time.
MARIAN
And break his glass into ten thousand pieces.
ROBIN
And drown his cruel scythe ten fathom deep,
Under the bright blue sea whence Love was born: