Shal. Well, parson, I will be revenged on all thy coat: I will not plough an acre of ground for you to tithe, I'll rather pasture my neighbour's cattle for nothing.
Par. O, be more charitable, sir; bid God give them joy.
Shal. I care not greatly if I do: he is not the first parson that has taken a gentleman's leavings.
Franc. How mean you, sir?
Shal. You guess my meaning. I hope to have good luck to horse flesh, now she is a parson's wife?
Franc. You have lain with her, then, sir.
Shal. I cannot tell you that; but if you saw a woman with child without lying with a man, then perhaps I have not.
Luce. Impudent coxcomb! Barest thou say that ever thou layest with me? Didst thou ever so much as kiss my hand in private?
Shal. These things must not be spoken of in company.
Luce. Thou know'st I ever hated thee.