_Lewis._ I know what you would say; to enforce the clause of my father's will. _Counsellor._ Tell me, how is this clause worded? _Lewis._ If one of his sons should turn out a prodigal, the other is declared his tutor. _Counsellor._ It is a shocking clause. _Lewis._ It is indeed. Yet, should they attempt it--by heavens!--But to the purpose--your father is still willing to give me your sister? _Counsellor._ Certainly. _Lewis._ But take care then I have some of the ready with her. _Counsellor._ Oh, you may depend upon that. _Lewis._ Not any of your father's own; only my share of the fortune of old Crack-brains. _Counsellor._ Old Crack-brains! What do you mean? _Lewis._ As if you did not know! Why my old uncle, to whom you have prescribed a little wholesome confinement, by way of cure for his pretended madness. _Counsellor._ Oh! that old man! So, so. _Lewis._ Exactly. You always seem wonderfully at a loss when that point is touch'd. _Counsellor._ But--I was going to observe--yes--it might be done, had he not escaped--but now it is uncertain whether he is alive, or what is become of him. _Lewis._ I say he is dead. _Counsellor._ But we have not heard. _Lewis._ He shall be dead. _Counsellor._ But---- _Lewis._ Why a live man is as easily declared to be dead, as a man in his senses to be mad; and if he should make his appearance, you can secure him again. _Counsellor._ No! who would do that? _Lewis._ Zounds! what a tender conscience! If my uncle could be declared mad, by your good-nature, that you might shew your Christian charity, in managing his estate, I am sure your noble heart would have no scruple to advance a part of the inheritance to the lawful heir. _Counsellor._ My dear friend, your expressions are so harsh--so---- _Lewis._ His madness was not so very clear. The old fellow was reasonable enough at times. _Counsellor._ Quite out of his senses, I assure you: mad as a March hare. _Lewis_ I don't know how--but indeed, I sometimes pity him. _Counsellor._ It was the will of God. _Lewis._ Oh, I have nothing to do with that: 'tis a subject too deep for me. But beware of my brother: he suspects foul play, and has spies drawn up every where. Enter CHANCELLOR FLEFFEL. _Counsellor._ Good morning, dear father. _Lewis_ [bowing]. My Lord! _Chancellor._ Good morning, my son,--your most obedient, Sir. _Lewis._ Engaged so early? _Chancellor._ Can I avoid it, my dear Sir? _Lewis._ The State is much indebted to you. _Chancellor._ Yet my zeal is frequently overlooked--no attention paid. [To his son] No news, Samuel? _Counsellor._ No, father. _Chancellor._ I feel quite tired. _Counsellor._ You have had no breakfast.