Dal. You think I coax you now.
San. No, I know my own merit too well for that.
Dal. Then do what I advise you. My father has not often seen this count; what if you should pass for him?
San. Hum! I do not apprehend thee.
Dal. A man of your wit, and be so stupid! you shall counterfeit the count.
San. Counterfeit the count! that's a pure quibble; but I can make no more on't.
Dal. He's an old fellow, and a fool: now, you shall take upon you to be this count, to deceive my father; and I'll keep your counsel, and teach you how to represent him.
San. Oh, now I understand you! but 'tis impossible for me to counterfeit a fool.
Dal. I'll warrant you; trust nature.
San. A man of my sense can never hide his parts.