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Dog. Ha, ha! silly woman!
The devil is no liar to such as he loves-
Didst ever know or hear the devil a liar
To such as he affects ?

Saw. Then I am thine; at least so much of me As I can call mine own

Dog. Equivocations?
Art mine or no? speak, or I'll tear-

Saw. All thine.
Dog. Sealt with thy blood. [She pricks her

arm, which he sucks.— Thunder and lightning.
See! now I dare call thee mine!
For proof, command me; instantly I'll run
To any mischief; goodness can I none.

Saw. And I desire as little. There's an old


One Banks
Dog. That wrong'd thee: he lamed thee, call’d

thee witch. Saw. The same; first upon him I'd be re

venged. Dog. Thou shalt; do but name how ? Saw. Go, touch his life. Dog. I cannot. Saw. Hast thou not vowd ? Go, kill the slave! Dog. I will not. Saw. I'll cancel then my gift. Dog. Ha, ha!

Saw. Dost laugh! Why wilt not kill him?

Dog. Fool, because I cannot.

Though we have power, know, it is circum

scribed, And tied in limits: though he be curst to thee,' Yet of himself, he is loving to the world, And charitable to the poor; now men, that, As he, love goodness, though in smallest measure, Live without compass of our reach : his cattle And corn I'll kill and mildew ; but his life (Until I take him, as I late found thee, Cursing and swearing) I have no power to touch.

Saw. Work on his corn and cattle then.

Dog. I shall.
The Witch OF EDMONTON shall see his fall;
If she at least put credit in my power,
And in mine only; make orisons to me,
And none but me.

Saw. Say how, and in what manner.
Dog. I'll tell thee: when thou wishest ill,

Corn, man, or beast wouldst spoil or kill ;
Turn thy back against the sun,
And mumble this short orison:
If thou to death or shame pursue 'em,

Sanctibicetur nomen tuum.
Saw. If thou to death or shame pursue 'em,

Sanctibicetur nomen tuum.
Dog. Perfect : farewell! Our first-made pro-

mises We'll


in execution against Banks. [Exit.


though he be curst to thee.] So the word should be written; i.e. cross, splenetic, abusive.


Saw. Contaminetur nomen tuum.

I'm an expert scholar; Speak Latin, or I know not well what language, As well as the best of 'em-but who comes here?


The son of my worst foe.

To death pursue 'em,

Et sanctabacetur nomen tuum.
Cud. What's that she mumbles? the devil's

paternoster ? would it were else!—Mother Sawyer, good-morrow. Saw. Ill-morrow to thee, and all the world that

flout A poor

old woman.

To death pursue 'em,

And sanctabacetur nomen tuum. Cud. Nay, good gammer Sawyer, whate 'er it pleases my father to call you, I know you are

Saw. A witch.
Cud. A witch? would you were else, i’faith!
Saw. Your father knows I am, by this.
Cud. I would he did !
Saw. And so in time may you.

Cud. I would I might else! But witch or no witch, you are a motherly woman; and though my father be a kind of God bless-us, as they say, I

Contaminetur, &c. I'm an expert scholar.] Pretty well for a beginner. This jargon is put into the mouths of the speakers for the laudable purpose of avoiding all profanation of the sacred text.

have an earnest suit to you; and if you'll be so kind to ka me one good turn, I'll be so courteous to kob you another.' Saw. What's that? to spurn, beat me, and call

me witch, As

your kind father doth ? Cud. My father! I am ashamed to own him. If he has hurt the head of thy credit, there's money to buy thee a plaster; (gives her money) and a small courtesy I would require at thy hands. Saw. You seem a good young man, and—I

must dissemble, The better to accomplish my revenge.(Aside.) But-for this silver, what wouldst have me do? Bewitch thee?

Cud. No, by no means; I am bewitch'd already: I would have thee so good as to unwitch me, or witch another with me for company.

Saw. I understand thee not; be plain, my son.

Cud. As a pike-staff, mother. You know Kate Carter ? Saw. The wealthy yeoman's daughter? what of

her? Cud. That same party has bewitch'd me. Saw. Bewitch'd thee? Cud. Bewitch'd me, hisce auribus. I saw a


If you'll be so kind to ka me one good turn, I'll be so courteous to kob you another.] Ka me, ka thee,” was the old proverb, before it fell into the bands of Cuddy, who is so desperately witty, that he can let no plain expression alone. See Massinger, where several examples of this expression will be found ; vol. iv. p. 34.

little devil fly out of her eye like a but-bolt,' which sticks at this hour up to the feathers in my heart. . Now, my request is, to send one of thy whatd'ye-call-’ems, either to pluck that out, or stick another as fast in her's : do, and here's my hand, I am thine for three lives. Saw. We shall have sport. (Aside.) - Thou art in

love with her? Cud. Up to the very hilts, mother. Saw. And thou wouldst have me make her love

thee too? Cud. I think she'll prove a witch in earnest. (Aside.)-Yes, I could find in my heart to strike her three quarters deep in love with me too. Saw. But dost thou think that I can do't, and I

alone? Cud. Truly, mother witch, I do verily believe so; and, when I see it done, I shall be half

persuaded so too.

Saw. It is enough; what art can do, be sure of. Turn to the west, and whatsoe'er thou hear'st Or seest, stand silent, and be not afraid.

[She stamps on the ground; the Dog ap

pears, and fawns, and leaps upon her. Cud. Afraid, mother witch !" turn my face to the west !” I said I should always have a backfriend of her; and now it's out. An her little

like a but-bolt.) This should not be confounded with bur or bird-bolt. It was the strong, unbarbed arrow used by the citizens in “ shooting at the but;" the other was light, pointless, and, as our old writers describe it, "gross-knobbed, for stunning."

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