Cud. What’s that she mumbles? the devil’s paternoster? would it were else!—Mother Sawyer, good-morrow.
M. Saw. Ill-morrow to thee, and all the world that flout
A poor old woman,
To death pursue ’em,
And sanctibicetur nomen tuum.
Cud. Nay, good Gammer Sawyer, whate’er it pleases my father to call you, I know you are—
M. Saw. A witch.
Cud. A witch? would you were else i’faith!
M. Saw. Your father knows I am by this.
Cud. I would he did.
M. 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 have an earnest suit to you; and if you’ll be so kind to ka me one good turn, I’ll be so courteous as to kob[427] you another.