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Cour.

Your man and you are marvellous merry, sir.

Will you go with me? we’ll mend our dinner here.

S. Dro. Master, if [you] do, expect spoon-meat, or bespeak a long spoon.

S. Ant. Why, Dromio?

S. Dro. Marry, he must have a long spoon that must eat with the devil.

S. Ant.

Avoid then, fiend, what tell’st thou me of supping?

Thou art, as you are all, a sorceress:

I conjure thee to leave me and be gone.

Cour.

Give me the ring of mine you had at dinner,

Or, for my diamond, the chain you promis’d,

And I’ll be gone, sir, and not trouble you.

S. Dro.

Some devils ask but the parings of one’s nail,

A rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin,

A nut, a cherry-stone;

But she, more covetous, would have a chain.

Master, be wise, and if you give it her,

The devil will shake her chain, and fright us with it.

Cour.

I pray you, sir, my ring, or else the chain;

I hope you do not mean to cheat me so?

S. Ant.

Avaunt, thou witch! Come, Dromio, let us go.

S. Dro.

“Fly pride,” says the peacock: mistress, that you know.