Warn. He shall do't, madam:—-But how, the devil knows; for he sings like a screech-owl, and never touched the lute.
[Aside.
Mill. You'll see't performed?
Warn. Now I think on't, madam, this will but retard our enterprise.
Mill. Either let him do't, or see me no more.
Warn. Well, it shall be done, madam; but where's your father? will not he overhear it?
Mill. As good hap is, he's below stairs, talking with a seaman, that has brought him news from the East Indies.
Warn. What concernment can he have there?
Mill. He had a bastard son there, whom he loved extremely: but not having any news from him these many years, concluded him dead; this son he expects within these three days.
Warn. When did he see him last?
Mill. Not since he was seven years old.