Phor. As how?
Erg. I told Hermione I never lov'd Irene.
Cle. Did she hear it?
Erg. O yes! it might have been forsworn else.
Cle. The devil thou hast!
Erg. Ask him; he made me do't.
Cle. What course will you take to redeem your fault?
Erg. A precipice, as being ashamed to live any longer.
Phor. A halter you shall as soon! Come, come, I'll intercede, and be your surety. Look, she stays to pardon you; down on your knees.
[She goes away; Phormio pulls her back; Ergasto
kneels, holds up his hands, his cloak
over his face.