Enter Warner.
Sir Mart. Here he comes, in pudding-time, to resolve the question:—Come hither, you lying varlet, hold up your hand at the bar of justice, and answer me to what I shall demand.
Warn. What-a-goodjer is the matter, sir?
Sir Mart. Thou spawn of the old serpent, fruitful in nothing but in lies!
Warn. A very fair beginning this.
Sir Mart. Didst thou dare to cast thy venom upon such a saint as Mrs Millisent, to traduce her virtue, and say it was adulterate?
Warn. Not guilty, my lord.
Sir Mart. I told you so.
Sir John. How, Mr Rascal! have you forgot what you said but now concerning Sir Martin and Mrs Millisent? I'll stop the lie down your throat, if you dare deny it.
Sir Mart. Say you so! are you there again, i'faith?