That earth be kind to thee, for heaven is thine,
Ay, surely, surely thine.
[Exit.
Enter Martha, with basket.
Mar. Drudge, drudge, drudge, drudge! To market seven miles,
And seven home again! It’s a hard life,
And tells upon me sorely! All this comes
Of marrying a bad man—a bad, poor man.
But there, he’s at the wars—God keep him there!
Ah, Gretchen, Gretchen, be advised by me;