Gathering cocklebur

Woman. My husband is traveling on a lonely road. I’m looking for cocklebur to fill my empty pot, but I can’t find enough for even a small meal. Man. This road is steep and it seems endless. My horse doesn’t want to go on; he needs to be fed and watered. Woman. I sit in the dust and cry, with a pain in my side. It’s bad enough when he’s gone, but worse not knowing when he’ll return. Man. I don’t know how far the next inn lies. If I drink from my flask, I’ll sigh less often, but it won’t fill my empty heart.