Saw. Still vex’d! still tortured! that curmudgeon Banks
Is ground of all my scandal; I am shunn’d
And hated like a sickness; made a scorn
To all degrees and sexes.  I have heard old beldams
Talk of familiars in the shape of mice,
Rats, ferrets, weasels, and I wot not what,
That have appear’d, and suck’d, some say, their blood;
But by what means they came acquainted with them,
I am now ignorant.  Would some power, good or bad,
Instruct me which way I might be revenged
Upon this churl, I’d go out of myself,
And give this fury leave to dwell within
This ruin’d cottage, ready to fall with age! 
Abjure all goodness, be at hate with prayer,
And study curses, imprecations,
Blasphemous speeches, oaths, detested oaths,
Or anything that’s ill; so I might work
Revenge upon this miser, this black cur,
That barks and bites, and sucks the very blood
Of me, and of my credit.  ’Tis all one,
To be a witch, as to be counted one: 
Vengeance, shame, ruin light upon that canker!

Enter a Black Dog.

Dog. Ho! have I found thee cursing? now thou art Mine own.

Saw. Thine! what art thou?

Dog. He thou hast so often Importuned to appear to thee, the devil.

Saw. Bless me! the devil!

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.