Itha. O master!
Bar. Ithamore, entreat not for her, I am moved, And she is hateful to my soul and me: And 'less [95] thou yield to this that I entreat, I cannot think but that thou hat'st my life.
Itha. Who, I, master? Why, I'll run to some rock, And throw myself headlong into the sea;40 Why, I'll do anything for your sweet sake.
Bar. O trusty Ithamore, no servant, but my friend: I here adopt thee for mine only heir, All that I have is thine when I am dead, And whilst I live use half; spend as myself; Here take my keys, I'll give 'em thee anon: Go buy thee garments: but thou shall not want: Only know this, that thus thou art to do: But first go fetch me in the pot of rice That for our supper stands upon the fire.50
Itha. I hold my head my master's hungry. I go, sir. [Exit.
Bar. Thus every villain ambles after wealth, Although he ne'er be richer than in hope: But, husht!
Enter Ithamore with the pot.
Itha. Here 'tis, master.
Bar. Well said, Ithamore; what, hast thou brought The ladle with thee too?
Itha. Yes, sir, the proverb says he that eats with the devil had need of a long spoon. [96] I have brought you a ladle.