Ray. Well, why have you never tried? The city is open to all who possess industry and talent.
Sept. Ay, ay, sir. But here’s father and mother Gale; age is creeping upon them: who is to take care of them? No, no! let the dream pass. They might have left me to die upon the sands: but they took me to their hearts; and, with Heaven’s help, I’ll be a true son to them in their old age. (Enter March, L.)
March. (Aside.) Halloo! what’s going on here! Something about me.
Ray. March,—is he contented here?
March. (Aside.) Not by a long chalk.
Sept. March? Oh! he’s a queer fish; his head is filled with whimsical notions regarding his parentage.
Ray. Has he any clue to his parents?
Sept. No more than I have.
March. (Aside.) Don’t be too sure of that.