Sir John. Besides, I am in haste; another time, sir——
Sir Mart. Pray, oblige me, sir; 'tis but one minute: All people love to be pitied in their misfortunes, and so do I: will you produce it, sirrah?
Warn. Dear master!
Sir Mart. Dear rascal! am I master, or you, you rogue?
Warn. Hold yet, sir, and let me read it: You cannot read my hand.
Sir Mart. This is ever his way to be disparaging me; but I'll let you see, sirrah, that I can read your hand better than you yourself can.
Warn. You'll repent it; there's a trick in't, sir.
Sir Mart. Is there so, sirrah? but I'll bring you out of all your tricks with a vengeance to you——[Reads.] How now! What's this? A true particular of the estate of Sir John Swallow, knight, lying and situate in, &c.
Sir John. This is the very paper I had lost: I'm very glad on't; [Takes the paper.] it has saved me a most unwelcome journey—but I will not thank you for the courtesy, which now I find you never did intend me—this is confederacy, I smoke it now—come, madam, let me wait on you to your father.
Mill. Well, of a witty man, this was the foolishest part that ever I beheld.
[Exeunt Sir John, Millisent, and Rose.