_Warn._ Now, the pox take you, sir, what do you mean? _Sir John._ Millisent, say you? That's the name of my mistress. _Sir Mart._ Lord! what luck is that now! well, sir, it happened one of her gloves fell down; I stooped to take it up; and, in the stooping, made her a compliment. _Warn._ The devil cannot hold him; now will this thick-skulled master of mine tell the whole story to his rival! _Sir Mart._ You'll say, 'twas strange, sir; but at the first glance we cast on one another, both our hearts leaped within us, our souls met at our eyes, and with a tickling kind of pain slid to each other's breast, and in one moment settled as close and warm, as if they long had been acquainted with their lodging. I followed her somewhat at a distance, because her father was with her. _Warn._ Yet hold, sir. _Sir Mart._ Saucy rascal, avoid my sight; must you tutor me?--So, sir, not to trouble you, I enquired out her father's house, without whose knowledge I did court the daughter, and both then, and often since coming to Canterbury, I received many proofs of her kindness to me. _Warn._ You had best tell him too, that I am acquainted with her maid, and manage your love under-hand with her. _Sir Mart._ Well remembered, i'faith; I thank thee for that, I had forgot it, I protest! My valet de chambre, whom you see here with me, grows me acquainted with her woman. _Warn._ O the devil! _Sir Mart._ In fine, sir, this maid, being much in her mistress's favour, so well solicited my cause, that, in fine, I gained from fair mistress Millisent an assurance of her kindness, and an engagement to marry none but me. _Warn._ 'Tis very well! you have made a fair discovery! _Sir John._ A most pleasant relation, I assure you: You are a happy man, sir! but what occasion brought you now to London? _Sir Mart._ That was in expectation to meet my mistress here; she writ me word from Canterbury, she and her father shortly would be here. _Sir John._ She and her father, said you, sir? _Warn._ Tell him, sir, for heaven's sake tell him all. _Sir Mart._ So I will, sir, without your bidding: Her father and she are come up already, that's the truth on't, and are to lodge by my contrivance in yon house; the master of which is a cunning rascal as any in town----him I have made my own, for I lodge there. _Warn._ You do ill, sir, to speak so scandalously of my landlord. _Sir Mart._ Peace, or I'll break your fool's head; so, that by his means I shall have free egress and regress when I please, sir, without her father's knowledge. _Warn._ I am out of patience to hear this. _Sir John._ Methinks you might do well, sir, to speak openly to her father. _Sir Mart._ Thank you for that, i'faith; in speaking to old Moody, I may soon spoil all. _Warn._ So, now he has told her father's name, 'tis past recovery. _Sir John._ Is her father's name Moody, say you? _Sir Mart._ Is he of your acquaintance?