Mill. This, sir, is Sir John's friend; he is for your humour, sir; he is no man of the town, but bred up in the old Elizabeth way of plainness.
Sir Mart. Ay, madam, your ladyship may say your pleasure of me.
To them Warner.
Warn. How the devil got he here before me! 'Tis very unlucky I could not see him first.
Sir Mart. But, as for painting, music, poetry, and the like, I'll say this of myself——
Warn. I'll say that for him, my master understands none of them, I assure you, sir.
Sir Mart. You impudent rascal, hold your tongue: I must rid my hands of this fellow; the rogue is ever discrediting me before company.
Mood. Never trouble yourself about it, sir, for I like a man that—
Sir Mart. I know you do, sir, and therefore I hope you'll think never the worse of me for his prating: For, though I do not boast of my own good parts——
Warn. He has none to boast of, upon my faith, sir.