MARINA.
Hark, hark, you gods!
BAWD.
She conjures: away with her! Would she had never come within my doors! Marry, hang you! She’s born to undo us. Will you not go the way of womankind? Marry, come up, my dish of chastity with rosemary and bays!
[Exit.]
BOULT.
Come, mistress; come your way with me.
MARINA.
Whither wilt thou have me?
BOULT.
To take from you the jewel you hold so dear.
MARINA.
Prithee, tell me one thing first.
BOULT.
Come now, your one thing?
MARINA.
What canst thou wish thine enemy to be?
BOULT.
Why, I could wish him to be my master, or rather, my mistress.