Shal. A good jest, i' faith! make me believe that!
Franc. How comes this fool possess'd? he never touch'd her,
I dare swear.
Frank. No more, Francisco, as you will answer it.
Parson, set forward there.
Franc. Stay.
If this will not suffice, Sumner, come forth.
Frank. A sumner! we are all betray'd.
Enter Sumner.
Sum. God save you all! I think you guess my business;
These are to cite to the spiritual court
You, Master Shallow, and you, Mistress Luce!
Ask not the cause, for 'tis apparent here,
A carnal copulation ante matrimonium.
Frank. This was a bar unlook'd for. Spiteful Francisco!
Franc. Injurious Franklin, could the laws divine
Or humane suffer such an impious act,
That thou shouldst take my true and lawful wife,
And great with child by me, to give to another,
Gulling his poor simplicity?