Dog. Come, do not fear; I love thee much too well
To hurt or fright thee; if I seem terrible,
It is to such as hate me. I have found
Thy love unfeign'd; have seen and pitied
Thy open wrongs, and come, out of my love,
To give thee just revenge against thy foes.
Saw. May I believe thee?
Dog. To confirm't, command me
Do any mischief unto man or beast.
And I'll effect it, on condition
That, uncompell'd, thou make a deed of gift
Of soul and body to me.
Saw. Out, alas!
My soul and body?
Dog. And that instantly,
And seal it with thy blood: if thou deniest,
I'll tear thy body in a thousand pieces.
Saw. I know not where to seek relief: but shall I,
After such covenants seal'd, see full revenge
On all that wrong me?
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. Seal't 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 churl,
One Banks—
Dog. That wrong'd thee: he lamed thee, call'd thee witch.
Saw. The same; first upon him I'd be revenged.
Dog. Thou shalt; do but name how?