“Thou art a well-spoken knave. We shall see.”
“My dear sir,” said Amyas, in a whisper, “I will warrant this man guiltless.”
“I verily believe him to be; but this is too serious a matter to be left on guess. If he will be sworn—”
Whereon the man, humbly enough, said, that if it would please Sir Richard, he would rather not be sworn.
“But it does not please me, rascal! Did I not warn thee, Amyas?”
“Sir,” said the man, proudly, “God forbid that my word should not be as good as my oath: but it is against my conscience to be sworn.”
“What have we here? some fantastical Anabaptist, who is wiser than his teachers.”
“My conscience, sir—”
“The devil take it and thee! I never heard a man yet begin to prate of his conscience, but I knew that he was about to do something more than ordinarily cruel or false.”
“Sir,” said the man, coolly enough, “do you sit here to judge me according to law, and yet contrary to the law swear profane oaths, for which a fine is provided?”