Enter Pedrillo.
Ped. Master, shall I shave you this morning?
Don Scipio. Shave! Oh, my dear sir, time to give over your tricks and fancies.
Ped. [Surprised.] My tricks and fancies!
Don Fer. Yes, sir, you are found out.
Ped. I am found out!
Don Scipio. So you may as well confess.
Ped. What the devil shall I confess?
Don Scipio. He still persists! Hark ye, young gentleman, I'll send your father an account of your pranks, and he'll trim your jacket for you.