Ger. I have provided A Priest, that's ready for us.
Gos. And can the Devil, In one ten days, that Devil Chance devour me?
Ger. We'll fly to what place you please.
Gos. No Star prosperous! All at a swoop?
Ger. You do not love me Goswin? You will not look upon me?
Gos. Can mens Prayers
Shot up to Heaven, with such a zeal as mine are,
Fall back like lazy mists, and never prosper?
Jives I must wear, and cold must be my comfort;
Darkness, and want of meat; alas she weeps too,
Which is the top of all my sorrows, Gertrude.
Ger. No, no, you will not know me; my poor beauty, Which has been worth your eyes.
Gos. The time grows on still; And like a tumbling wave, I see my ruine Come rowling over me.
Ger. Yet will ye know me?
Gos. For a hundred thousand Crowns.