Hau. Look there again—the old Man’s mad too; why how the pox should he know I have been walking? Indeed, Sir, I have, as you say, been walking [Playing with his Hat.] —and am—as you say, out of Humour—But under favour, Sir, who are you? Sure ’tis the old Conjurer, and those were his little Imps I met. [Surlily to him. Car. Sure, Son, you should be a Wit, by the shortness of your Memory. Hau. By the Goodness of yours, you should be none, ha, ha, ha. Did I not meet with him there, _Gload_, hah? But pray refresh my Memory, and let me know you; I come to seek a Father amongst you here, one Don _Carlo_. Car. Am I not the Man, Sir? Hau. How the Devil should I know that now, unless by instinct? 287 Glo. The old Man is mad, and must be humour’d. Hau. Cry you Mercy, Sir, I vow I had quite forgot you. Sir, I hope Donna _Euphemia_— Car. Oh, Sir, she’s in a much better Humour than when you saw her last, complies with our Desires more than I cou’d hope or wish. Hau. Why look you here again—I ask’d after her Health, not her Humour. Car. I know not what Arts you made use of, but she’s strangely taken with your Conversation and Person. Glo. Truly, Sir, you are mightily beholden to her, that she should have all this good Will to your Person and Conversation before she sees you. Hau. Ay, so I am; therefore, Sir, I desire to see your Daughter, for I shall hardly be so generous as she has been, and be quits with her before I see her. Car. Why, Sir, I hop’d you lik’d her when you saw her last. Hau. Stark mad—I saw her last! why, what the Devil do you mean? I never saw her in all my Life, man. Stark mad, as I am true Dutch— [Aside. Car. A Lover always thinks the time tedious: But here’s my Daughter. Enter _Euphemia_ and _Olinda_. Hau. Ay, one of these must be she: but ’tis a Wonder I should not know which she is by instinct. [Aside. [Stands looking very simply on both. Euph. This is not _Alonzo_—has he betray’d me? [Aside. Car. Go, Sir, she expects you. Hau. Your pardon, Sir; let her come to me, if she will, I’m sure she knows me better than I do her. Glo. How should she know you, Sir? Hau. How? by instinct, you Fool, as all the rest of the House does: don’t you, fair Mistress? Euph. I know you— 288 Hau. Yes, you know me; you need not be so coy mun, the old Man has told me all. Euph. What has he told you?—I am ruin’d. [Aside. Hau. Faith, much more than I believ’d, for he was very full of his new-fashion’d Spanish Civility, as they call it; But ha, ha, I hope, fair Mistress, you do not take after him? Euph. What if I do, Sir? Hau. Why then I had as lieve marry a Steeple with a perpetual Ring of Bells. Glo. Let me advise you, Sir; methinks you might make a handsomer Speech for the first, to so pretty a Lady—Fakes, and were I to do’t—