Sir John. If you will not, adieu, dear sir; in any thing command me.
[Exit.
Sir Mart. Now we are alone: han't I carried matters bravely, sirrah?
Warn. O yes, yes, you deserve sugar-plums; first for your quarrelling with Sir John; then for discovering your landlord; and, lastly, for refusing to dine with your mistress. All this is since the last reckoning was wiped out.
Sir Mart. Then why did my landlord disguise himself, to make a fool of us?
Warn. You have so little brains, that a penny-worth of butter, melted under 'em, would set 'em afloat: He put on that disguise, to rid you of your rival.
Sir Mart. Why was not I worthy to keep your counsel then?
Warn. It had been much at one: You would but have drunk the secret down, and pissed it out to the next company.
Sir Mart. Well, I find I am a miserable man: I have lost my mistress, and may thank myself for it.
Warn. You'll not confess you are a fool, I warrant.
Sir Mart. Well, I am a fool, if that will satisfy you: But what am I the nearer, for being one?