Sir Fran. Sir, your Necessities are very Impertinent, and ought to have sent before they Entred.
Char. Sir, I knew 'twas a Word wou'd gain Admittance no where.
Sir Fran. Then, Sirrah, how durst you Rudely thrust that upon your Father, which no Body else wou'd admit?
Char. Sure the Name of a Son is a sufficient Plea. I ask this Lady's Pardon if I have intruded.
Sir Fran. Ay, Ay, ask her Pardon and her Blessing too, if you expect any thing from me.
Miran. I believe yours, Sir Francis, in a Purse of Guinea's wou'd be more material. Your Son may have Business with you, I'll retire.
Sir Fran. I guess his Business, but I'll dispatch him, I expect the Knight every Minute: You'll be in Readiness.
Miran. Certainly! my Expectation is more upon the wing than yours, old Gentleman.
[Exit.
Sir Fran. Well, Sir!