SIR MARTIN MAR-ALL.
ACT I. SCENE I.
Enter Warner solus.
Warn. Where the devil is this master of mine? he is ever out of the way, when he should do himself good! This 'tis to serve a coxcomb, one that has no more brains than just those I carry for him. Well! of all fops commend me to him for the greatest; he's so opinioned of his own abilities, that he is ever designing somewhat, and yet he sows his stratagems so shallow, that every daw can pick them up: From a plotting fool, the Lord deliver me. Here he comes;—O! it seems his cousin's with him; then it is not so bad as I imagined.
Enter Sir Martin Mar-all, and Lady Dupe.
L. Dupe. I think 'twas well contrived for your access, to lodge her in the same house with you.
Sir Mart. 'Tis pretty well, I must confess.
Warn. Had he plotted it himself, it had been admirable.
[Aside.