Sir Mart. Heigh, heigh, what makes my landlord here? He has put on a fool's coat, I think, to make us laugh.
Warn. The devil's in him, he's at it again; his folly's like a sore in a surfeited horse; cure it in one place, and it breaks out in another.
Sir Mart. Honest landlord, i'faith, and what makes you here?
Sir John. Are you acquainted with this honest man?
Land. Take heed what you say, sir.
[To Sir Mart. softly.
Sir Mart. Take heed what you say, sir! Why? who should I be afraid of? of you, sir? I say, sir, I know him, sir; and I have reason to know him, sir; for I am sure I lodge in his house, sir—nay, never think to terrify me, sir; 'tis my landlord here in Charles-street, sir.
Land. Now I expect to be paid for the news I brought him.
Sir John. Sirrah, did not you tell me that my father—
Land. Is in very good health, for aught I know, sir; I beseech you to trouble yourself no farther concerning him.
Sir John. Who set you on to tell this lie?