Chatterton. Have you gone mad? Mrs. Angell. Fly! Mr. Burgum swears he'll murder you-- He is enraged. Chatterton. I would fly only one Who had the power to extend my lease of life: I am aweary of the premises. Mrs. Angell. He's foaming at the mouth. Chatterton. Then let him foam. Each petty wave upon the mighty sea Foams at its pleasure--why not he? I say Then let him foam. Enter Burgum in a fury. Burgum. [Waving his cane.] I'll murder him! Bertha. [Interposing.] You shall not harm him, father. Mrs. Angell. [To Chatterton.] Come away! Chatterton. Nay; he is harmless as a bottled bee: He can but buzz. Bertha. [To Burgum.] What is the matter, sir? Burgum. That knave! that knave!--the pedigree is false! What can you say, you villain? Bertha. He is ill. Burgum. I care not for his illness, let him speak!-- You swindler, speak! Bertha. You gave him but a crown. Burgum. Peace, peace; or I shall drive you from the room. [To Chatterton.] Now answer me! Chatterton. [Rising.] Were it not for your age And for your daughter whom I do respect, I'd answer not in words. Bertha. O Chatterton! Mrs. Angell. O gentlemen, I beg you both forbear. Chatterton. [To Bertha.] Have no fear, lady; did he bear a knife To stab me here, I would not parry it, If by such action I should frighten you. Stand not between. Burgum. In King's Bench you shall lodge! Chatterton. Then I shall fatten at the town's expense. Now, look you, Burgum, I'll no more of this, Unless the lady bid me, so take heed. This room doth show my poverty and needs, Yet 'tis my castle, sir! Burgum. I am undone; And Bristol will clap hands upon her sides And roar with mirth. Why did you dupe me so?-- 'Twas not for money, for 'twas but a crown. Chatterton. 'Twas not for money, or you should have paid A thousand crowns. You will remember, sir, That when a pupil at the Bluecoat School, Poor, lonely, friendless, with a thirst for lore, I came to ask of you the loan of books, You mocked my poverty, jeered at my verse, And sneering bade me learn the cobbler's trade. I knew your passion was for gold and birth; And gold you had. In bitter sport I wrote your pedigree, scarce thinking it Would be received with credence; yet it was. I should have told you then, but you did swell And treat me with disdain. I tell you now That, since you are the father of this girl, I'd give my life to undo what is done; Yet, were you not her father, I do swear I'd give my life to do it o'er again. I made a fool of gold, for it had made A fool of me so long. Burgum. The whole is false: My ancestor was not of Norman blood, And John de Bergham never lived at all.