Lady Am. Then Sir George intends to disown him?
Harry. Yes, ma'am; I've this moment told the young gentleman of it; and he's determined, for a jest, to return the compliment, by seeming to treat Sir George himself as an impostor.
Lady Am. Ha, ha, ha! 'twill be a just retaliation, and, indeed, what my uncle deserveth for his cruel intentions both to his son and me.
Sir Geo. [Without.] What, has he run away again?
Lady Am. That's mine uncle.
Harry. Yes; here is my father; and my standing out that I am not his son, will rouse him into the heat of battle, ha, ha, ha! [Aside.] Here he is, madam, now mind how he will dub me 'squire.
Lady Am. It's well I'm prepared, or I might have believed him.
Enter Sir George.
Sir Geo. Well, my lady, wasn't it my wild rogue set you to all the Calcavella capers you've been cutting in the garden? You see here I have brought him into the line of battle again—you villain, why do you drop astern there? Throw a salute shot, buss her bob-stays, bring to, and come down straight as a mast, you dog.
Lady Am. Uncle, who is this?