FRANK. Hide it one day more, then, or be damned. Hide it till Shallow be married to thee, and then let him do his worst. LUCE. Sir, I should too much wrong him. FRANK. Wrong him! there be great ladies have done the like; 'tis no news to see a bride with child. LUCE. Good sir. FRANK. Then be wise; lay the child to him: he's a rich man, t'other's a beggar. LUCE. I dare not, sir. FRANK. Do it, I say, and he shall father it. LUCE. He knows he never touched me, sir. FRANK. That's all one; lay it to him, we'll out-face him 'tis his: but hark! he is coming, I hear the music. Swear thou wilt do thy best to make him think 'tis his, only for this time; swear quickly. LUCE. I do. FRANK. Go, step aside, and come when thy cue is; thou shalt hear us talk. [LUCE _aside_. _Enter_ SHALLOW, _with music_. SHAL. Morrow, father. FRANK. Son bridegroom, welcome; you have been looked for here. SHAL. My tailor a little disappointed me; but is my bride ready? FRANK. Yes, long ago; but you and I will talk a little. Send in your music. SHAL. Go, wait within. [_Exit music._] And tell me, father, did she not think it long till I came? FRANK. I warrant her, she did; she loves you not a little. SHAL. Nay, that I dare swear; she has given me many tastes of her affection. FRANK. What, before you were married? SHAL. I mean in the way of honesty, father. FRANK. Nay, that I doubt; young wits love to be trying, and, to say truth, I see not how a woman can deny a man of your youth and person upon those terms: you'll not be known on't now. SHAL. I have kissed her, or so. FRANK. Come, come; I know you are no fool, I should think you a very ass--nay, I tell you plainly, I should be loth to marry my daughter to you--if I thought you had not tried her in so long acquaintance: but you have tried her, and she, poor soul, could not deny you. SHAL. Ha, ha, he! FRANK. Faith, tell me, son, 'tis but a merry question: she's yours. SHAL. Upon my virginity, father---- FRANK. Swear not by that, I'll ne'er believe you. SHAL. Why, then, as I am a gentleman, I never did it, that I remember. FRAN. That you remember! O, is't thereabouts? LUCE. He'll take it upon him presently. [_Aside._ FRAN. You have been so familiar with her, you have forgot the times: but did you never come in half fuddled, and then in a kind humour--_cætera quis nescit?_ SHAL. Indeed I was wont to serve my mother's maids so, when I came half foxed, as you said, and then next morning I should laugh to myself. FRANK. Why, there it goes; I thought to have chid you, son Shallow; I knew what you had done; 'tis too apparent: I would not have people take notice of it; pray God she hide her great belly, as she goes to church to-day. SHAL. Why, father, is she with child? FRANK. As if you knew not that! fie, fie! leave your dissembling now. SHAL. Sure, it cannot be mine.