Isaac. Ay; that's my honest friend, Antonio; and that's the little girl I told you I had hampered him with.
Don Jer. Why, you are either drunk or mad—this is my daughter.
Isaac. No, no; 'tis you are both drunk and mad, I think—here's your daughter.
Don Jer. Hark ye, old iniquity! will you explain all this, or not?
Duen. Come then, Don Jerome, I will—though our habits might inform you all. Look on your daughter, there, and on me.
Isaac. What's this I hear?
Duen. The truth is, that in your passion this morning you made a small mistake; for you turned your daughter out of doors, and locked up your humble servant.
Isaac. O Lud! O Lud! here's a pretty fellow, to turn his daughter out of doors, instead of an old Duenna!
Don Jer. And, O Lud! O Lud! here's a pretty fellow, to marry an old Duenna instead of my daughter! But how came the rest about?
Duen. I have only to add, that I remained in your daughter's place, and had the good fortune to engage the affections of my sweet husband here.