Sir Abel. You shall, my dear.
[They enter.
Lady H. But how! but how, Sir Abel? I repeat it—
Sir Philip. [Aside.] For the fiftieth time.
Lady H. Your son conducts himself with an insolence I won't endure; but you are ruled by him, you have no will of your own.
Sir Abel. I have not, indeed.
Lady H. How contemptible!
Sir Abel. Why, my dear, this is the case—I am like the ass in the fable; and if I am doomed to carry a packsaddle, it is not much matter who drives me.
Lady H. To yield your power to those the law allows you to govern!—
Sir Abel. Is very weak, indeed.