[Exit Maria.
Old P. Now, sir, for you—don’t look so audacious, sirrah—don’t fancy you belong to me—I utterly disclaim you——
Little P. (laughing) But that is too late now, old gentleman, you have publickly said I was your son, and d——n me, I’ll make you stand to it, sir, (threatning.)
Old P. The devil—here is an affair!—John, Thomas, William;
Enter Servants.
Take that fellow, and turn him out of doors immediately—take him, I say—
Servants. Fellow! who, sir?
Old P. Who! why zounds, him there; don’t you see him?
John. What, my new young master—No, sir, I’ve turned out one already, I’ll turn out no more.
Old P. He’s not your young master—he’s no son of mine—away with him, I say.