Luc. Say she should go.
Short. If I say, I'le be hang'd, or if I thought she would go.
Luce. What?
Short. I would go with her.
Luce. But Shorthose, where thy heart is?
Isab. Do not fright him.
Luce. By this hand Mistris 'tis a noise, a loud one too, and from her own mouth, presently to be gone too, but why, or to what end?
Short. May not a man die first? she'l give him so much time.
Isab. Gone o'th' sudden? thou dost but jest, she must not mock the Gentlemen.
Luce. She has put them off a month, th[e]y dare not see her, believe me Mistris, what I hear I tell you.