Giles. Why, this is he, sir; I thought you had known him.

Aldo. Known whom?

Giles. Your son here, my young master.

Aldo. Do I dote? or art thou drunk, Giles?

Giles. Nay, I am sober enough, I’m sure; I have been kept fasting almost these two days.

Aldo. Before George, ’tis so!  I read it in that leering look:  What a Tartar have I caught!

Brain. Woodall his son!

Pleas. What, young father Aldo!

Aldo. [Aside.] Now cannot I for shame hold up my head, to think what this young rogue is privy to!

Mrs Brain. The most dumb interview I ever saw!

Brain. What, have you beheld the Gorgon’s head on either side?

Aldo. Oh, my sins! my sins! and he keeps my book of conscience too!  He can display them, with a witness!  Oh, treacherous young devil!

Wood. [Aside.] Well, the squib’s run to the end of the line, and now for the cracker:  I must bear up.

Aldo. I must set a face of authority on the matter, for my credit.—­Pray, who am I? do you know me, sir?

Wood. Yes, I think I should partly know you, sir:  You may remember some private passages betwixt us.

Aldo. [Aside.] I thought as much; he has me already!—­But pray, sir, why this ceremony amongst friends?  Put on, put on; and let us hear what news from France.  Have you heard lately from my son? does he continue still the most hopeful and esteemed young gentleman in Paris? does he manage his allowance with the same discretion? and, lastly, has he still the same respect and duty for his good old father?

Wood. Faith, sir, I have been too long from my catechism, to answer so many questions; but, suppose there be no news of your quondam son, you may comfort up your heart for such a loss; father Aldo has a numerous progeny about the town, heaven bless them.

Aldo. It is very well, sir; I find you have been searching for your relations, then, in Whetstone’s Park[14]!

Wood. No, sir; I made some scruple of going to the foresaid place, for fear of meeting my own father there.

Aldo. Before George, I could find in my heart to disinherit thee.

Pleas. Sure you cannot be so unnatural.

Wood. I am sure I am no bastard; witness one good quality I have.  If any of your children have a stronger tang of the father in them, I am content to be disowned.

Aldo. Well, from this time forward, I pronounce thee—­no son of mine.

Wood. Then you desire I should proceed to justify I am lawfully begotten?  The evidence is ready, sir; and, if you please, I shall relate, before this honourable assembly, those excellent lessons of morality you gave me at our first acquaintance.  As, in the first place—­