Shal. But when you were i' th' good humour, you would tell me another tale.
Luce. The fool is mad; by heaven, my Francisco, I am wronged!
[He discovers himself.
Franc. Then I must change my note. Sirrah, unsay what you have spoken; swear here before the parson and myself you never touched her, or I'll cut thy throat: it is Francisco threatens thee.
Shal. I am in a sweet case, what should I do now? Her father thinks I have lain with her: if I deny it, he'll have a bout with me: if I say I have, this young rogue will cut my throat.
Franc. Come, will you swear?
Shal. I would I were fairly off; I would lose my wench with all my heart. I swear.
Franc. So now thou art free from any imputation that his tongue can stick upon thee.
[To Luce.]
Enter Franklin.
Frank. Well, now I see 'tis done.