Mill. You have vexed me so, I will not satisfy you.
Sir John. Then I perceive I am not likely to be so much obliged to you, as I was to him.
Mill. This is romance—I'll not believe a word on't.
Sir John. That's as you please: However 'tis believed, his wit will not much credit your choice. Madam, do justice to us both; pay his ingratitude and folly with your scorn; my service with your love. By this time your father stays for me: I shall be discreet enough to keep this fault of yours from him; the lawyers wait for us to draw your jointure; and I would beg your pardon for my absence, but that my crime is punished in itself.
[Exit.
Mill. Could I suspect this usage from a favoured servant!
Rose. First hear Sir Martin, ere you quite condemn him; consider, 'tis a rival who accused him.
Mill. Speak not a word in his behalf: Methought too, Sir John called him fool.
Rose. Indeed he has a rare way of acting a fool, and does it so naturally, it can be scarce distinguished.
Mill. Nay, he has wit enough, that's certain.
Rose. How blind love is!