To sorrow such as thine, why, Heaven help me,
For then I have no title to the words!
See, Martha comes. She has an angry tongue,
Although her heart is kindly. Get thee hence
Till I have spoken to her. Here is money;
Go, get thee food, and then come back to me.
Take courage—Martha can refuse me nothing.
It shall go hard but when thou comest back
She’ll welcome thee as I do. Fare thee well.
Lisa. Those who would pray for thee have but one prayer,