When we shall have cleare light to see our way:
Come; night being done, expect a happy day.
Exeunt.
[Scene Fourteenth. A Hillside in the Fields.[1912]]
Enter Mistresse Barnes [with torch].
Mis. Ba. O, what a race this peevish girle hath led me!
How fast I ran, and now how weary I am!
I am so out of breath I scarce can speake,—
What shall I doe?—and cannot overtake her.
It is[1913] late and darke, and I am far from home: 5