SCENE II.

_Enter again Sir_ MARTIN _and_ WARNER.

_Sir Mart._ Was there ever such an affront put upon a man, to be beaten by his servant?

_Warn._ After my hearty salutations upon your backside, sir, may a man have leave to ask you, what news from the Mogul's country?

_Sir Mart._ I wonder where thou hadst the impudence to move such a question to me, knowing how thou hast used me.

_Warn._ Now, sir, you may see what comes of your indiscretion and stupidity: I always give you warning of it; but, for this time, I am content to pass it without more words, partly, because I have already corrected you, though not so much as you deserve.

_Sir Mart._ Do'st thou think to carry it off at this rate, after such an injury?

_Warn._ You may thank yourself for't; nay, 'twas very well I found out that way, otherwise I had been suspected as your accomplice.

_Sir Mart._ But you laid it on with such a vengeance, as if you were beating of a stock-fish.

_Warn._ To confess the truth on't, you had angered me, and I was willing to evaporate my choler; if you will pass it by so, I may chance to help you to your mistress: No more words of this business, I advise you, but go home and grease your back.

_Sir Mart._ In fine, I must suffer it at his hands: for if my shoulders had not paid for this fault, my purse must have sweat blood for't: The rogue has got such a hank upon me----

_Warn._ So, so! here's another of our vessels come in, after the storm that parted us.

_Enter_ ROSE.

What comfort, Rose? no harbour near?

_Rose._ My lady, as you may well imagine, is most extremely incensed against Sir Martin; but she applauds your ingenuity to the skies. I'll say no more, but thereby hangs a tale.

_Sir Mart._ I am considering with myself about a plot, to bring all about again.

_Rose._ Yet again plotting! if you have such a mind to't, I know no way so proper for you, as to turn poet to Pugenello.

_Warn._ Hark! is not that music in your house? [_Music plays._

_Rose._ Yes, Sir John has given my mistress the fiddles, and our old man is as jocund yonder, and does so hug himself, to think how he has been revenged upon you!

_Warn._ Why, he does not know 'twas me, I hope?

_Rose._ 'Tis all one for that.

_Sir Mart._ I have such a plot!--I care not, I will speak, an I were to be hanged for't. Shall I speak, dear Warner? let me now; it does so wamble within me, just like a clyster, i'faith la, and I can keep it no longer, for my heart.

_Warn._ Well, I am indulgent to you; out with it boldly, in the name of nonsense.

_Sir Mart._ We two will put on vizards, and with the help of my landlord, who shall be of the party, go a mumming there, and by some device of dancing, get my mistress away, unsuspected by them all.

_Rose._ What if this should hit now, when all your projects have failed, Warner?

_Warn._ Would I were hanged, if it be not somewhat probable: Nay, now I consider better on't--exceedingly probable; it must take, 'tis not in nature to be avoided.

_Sir Mart._ O must it so, sir! and who may you thank for't?

_Warn._ Now am I so mad he should be the author of this device! How the devil, sir, came you to stumble on't?

_Sir Mart._ Why should not my brains be as fruitful as yours, or any man's?

_Warn._ This is so good, it shall not be your plot, sir; either disown it, or I will proceed no further.

_Sir Mart._ I would not lose the credit of my plot, to gain my mistress: The plot's a good one, and I'll justify it upon any ground in England; an you will not work upon't, it shall be done without you.

_Rose._ I think the knight has reason.

_Warn._ Well, I'll order it however to the best advantage: Hark you, Rose. [_Whispers._

_Sir Mart._ If it miscarry by your ordering, take notice, 'tis your fault; 'tis well invented, I'll take my oath on't.

_Rose._ I must into them, for fear I should be suspected; but I'll acquaint my lord, my old lady, and all the rest, who ought to know it, with your design.

_Warn._ We'll be with you in a twinkling: You and I, Rose, are to follow our leaders, and be paired to night.----

_Rose._ To have, and to hold, are dreadful words, Warner; but, for your sake, I'll venture on 'em. [_Exeunt._