[Aside.
Don Scipio. Fernando's, I think.
Spado. [Affecting surprise.] What, my master's?—'egad so it is—But I wonder who could have brought it here.—Ay, ay, my fellow servant Pedrillo is now too grand to mind his business;—and my master, I find, though he has taken the habit, scorns the office of a servant—So I must look after the things myself.
Don Scipio. Ay, ay, take care of them.
Spado. Yes, sir, I'll take care of them!
Don Scipio. Ha! ha! ha! what a strange whimsical fellow this master of yours! with his plots and disguises.—Think to impose upon me too.—But I think I'm far from a fool.
Spado. [Looking archly at him.] That's more than I am.
Don Scipio. So he pretends not to know you, though he has sent you here as a spy, to see what you can pick up?
Spado. Yes, sir, I came here to see what I can pick up.
[Takes up the Portmanteau.