Mrs. Arnold. The elder three
At school and college, and our little Will
Just home from school.
Arnold. I pray you let him come;
My blessings on them all must fall through him;
Nor will they wait: the passage of an hour
May find me gone.—Stay; there is yet one son.
Mrs. Arnold. No, Benedict, you have described them all.
Arnold. Ay, but there is one, born in Canada,
My natural son, whose mother is no more;
And yet my son,—and brother to the rest,
And ever at my cost I've brought him up.
I cannot leave him out. He is of age
And elder than your boys.
Mrs. Arnold. A son of yours—
Arnold. A natural son of mine, whose bringing up
Is at my charge. I cannot cut him off.
Though of my name I scanted him the curse,
I ever sent him help.
[Gives her a paper.]
Mrs. Arnold. You have done right
To count him in; and I accept him,
And will provide a portion like the rest
Though at my children's cost.
Arnold. Send William here:
The time grows short.
[Enter servant bringing the sword which Mrs. Arnold takes and gives to Arnold.]