SECOND MERCHANT
You offer us—
CATHLEEN
I offer my own soul.
A PEASANT
Do not, do not, for souls the like of ours
Are not precious to God as your soul is.
O! what would Heaven do without you, lady?
ANOTHER PEASANT
Look how their claws clutch in their leathern gloves.
FIRST MERCHANT
Five hundred thousand crowns; we give the price.
The gold is here; the souls even while you speak
Have slipped out of our bond, because your face