Think what thou leavest.
Mar.I think I shall leave thee.
Lu. But when shall we return?
Mar.Maybe to-morrow.
Order the horses. I shall go without thee.
Quick, quick, begone!
Lu.Well, well. Thou hast found a man:
I being a woman must help thee, tho’ ’tis madness.
Mar. Go, girl: I know it. Thou’lt be true, Lucia:
Only be quick.