Rose. My mistress, knowing Sir John was to be abroad upon business this afternoon, has asked leave to see a play: And Sir John has so great a confidence of your master, that he will trust no body with her, but him.
Warn. If my master gets her out, I warrant her, he shall shew her a better play than any is at either of the houses—here they are: I'll run and prepare him to wait upon her.
[Exit.
Enter old Moody, Mrs Millisent, and Lady Dupe.
Mill. My hoods and scarfs there, quickly.
L. Dupe. Send to call a coach there.
Mood. But what kind of man is this Sir Martin, with whom you are to go?
L. Dupe. A plain down-right country-gentleman, I assure you.
Mood. I like him much the better for it. For I hate one of those you call a man of the town, one of those empty fellows of mere out-side: They have nothing of the true old English manliness.
Rose. I confess, sir, a woman's in a bad condition, that has nothing to trust to, but a peruke above, and a well-trimmed shoe below.
To them Sir Martin.