Hau. Since, ha, ha, ha, since when? hah.
Serv. Since you saw him, Sir.
Hau. Salerimente, will you make me mad? why you damnable Rascal, when did I see him? hah.
Serv. Here comes my Master himself, Sir, [Enter Carlo.] let him inform you, if you grow so hot upon the Question.
Car. How now, Son, what, angry? You have e’en tir’d your self with walking, and are out of Humour.
Hau. Look there again—the old Man’s mad too; why how the pox should he know I have been walking? Indeed, Sir, I have, as you say, been walking [Playing with his Hat.] —and am—as you say, out of Humour—But under favour, Sir, who are you? Sure ’tis the old Conjurer, and those were his little Imps I met. [[Surlily to him.]
Car. Sure, Son, you should be a Wit, by the shortness of your Memory.
Hau. By the Goodness of yours, you should be none, ha, ha, ha. Did I not meet with him there, Gload, hah? But pray refresh my Memory, and let me know you; I come to seek a Father amongst you here, one Don Carlo.
Car. Am I not the Man, Sir?
Hau. How the Devil should I know that now, unless by instinct?