_Sir John._ These are rogues, sir, I plainly perceive it; pray let me ask him one question--Which way did you come home, sir? _Sir Mart._ We came home by land, sir. _Warn._ That is, from India to Persia, from Persia to Turkey, from Turkey to Germany, from Germany to France. _Sir John._ And from thence, over the narrow seas on horse-back. _Mood._ 'Tis so, I discern it now; but some shall smoke for it. Stay a little, Anthony, I'll be with you presently. [_Exit_ MOOD. _Warn._ That wicked old man is gone for no good, I'm afraid; would I were fairly quit of him. [_Aside._ _Mill. aside._] Tell me no more of Sir Martin, Rose; he wants natural sense, to talk after this rate: but for this Warner, I am strangely taken with him; how handsomely he brought him off! _Enter_ MOODY, _with two cudgels_. _Mood._ Among half a score tough cudgels I had in my chamber, I have made choice of these two, as best able to hold out. _Mill._ Alas! poor Warner must be beaten now, for all his wit; would I could bear it for him! _Warn._ But to what end is all this preparation, sir? _Mood._ In the first place, for your worship, and in the next, for this East-India apostle, that will needs be my son Anthony. _Warn._ Why, d'ye think he is not? _Mood._ No, thou wicked accomplice in his designs, I know he is not. _Warn._ Who, I his accomplice? I beseech you, sir, what is it to me, if he should prove a counterfeit? I assure you he has cozened me in the first place. _Sir John._ That's likely, i'faith, cozen his own servant! _Warn._ As I hope for mercy, sir, I am an utter stranger to him; he took me up but yesterday, and told me the story, word for word, as he told it you. _Sir Mart._ What will become of us two now? I trust to the rogue's wit to bring me off. _Mood._ If thou wouldst have me believe thee, take one of these two cudgels, and help me to lay it on soundly. _Warn._ With all my heart. _Mood._ Out, you cheat, you hypocrite, you impostor! Do you come hither to cozen an honest man? [_Beats him._ _Sir Mart._ Hold, hold, sir! _Warn._ Do you come hither, with a lye, to get a father, Mr Anthony of East India? _Sir Mart._ Hold, you inhuman butcher! _Warn._ I'll teach you to counterfeit again, sir. _Sir Mart._ The rogue will murder me. [_Exit Sir_ MART. _Mood._ A fair riddance of 'em both: Let's in and laugh at 'em. [_Exeunt._ 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?