Fran. Should have a lady false.
Back, lady, to your yet unblemish'd bed:
Preserve your honour and your lord's——calf's head.
Clown. Well, Francis, you had been better—if I do not tell my lord of this!
Lod. He has put him to't now.
Fran. Then I am lost for ever:
You'll turn it all on me, I know; but ere
I'll live to wrong so good a lord, or stand
The mark unto your malice, I will first
Fall on my sword and perish.
Lod. Hold, hold, hold, man!
Fran. Ha, who are you?
Lod. One that has more humanity in him, than to see a proper fellow cast himself away, I warrant thee. 'Tis I, 'tis I, man: I have heard all.
Clown. And 'twas I played my lady to have snapped ye.
Fran. Has she been then so good to tell your honour?
Now am I worse afflicted than before,
That she should thus outrun me in this race
Of honesty.
Lod. Nay, sh' has bobb'd thee bravely.
Sh' has a thousand of these tricks, i' faith, man:
But howsoever, what I have found thee, I have found thee.
Hark in thine ear, shalt have five leases
And mine own nag, when th' hast a mind to ride.