Sir _Row._ [Putting up.] Well, I’m satisfy’d thou’lt make no good Rake-hell in this Point, whatever you will in the others. And since Nature has made thee a Coward, Inclination a Coxcomb, I’ll take care to make thee a Beggar; and so thou shalt be a Rake-hell but in Will, I’ll disinherit thee, I will, Villain. L. _Blun._ What, disinherit your eldest Son, Brother? Sir _Mer._ Ay, Aunt, his very Heir apparent? Aunt, to show you how the old Gentleman has misrepresented us, give me leave to present you a Dance I provided to entertain your Son with, in which is represented all the Beauties of our Lives. L. _Blun._ Oh! by all means, Cousin, by all means. Sir _Mer._ What hoa! _Roger_, bring in the Dancers. _Here the Dance, representing Rake-hells, Constable, Watch, &c._ Enter _Philip_. _Phil._ Sir, who do’s your Worship think is arriv’d? Sir _Row._ My Son _George_, I hope, come in the Nick. _Phil._ Even so, Sir, from _Paris_-- [Exit. Sir _Row._ The Prodigal return’d! then kill the fatted Calf. Enter _George_ drest like a Prentice. --My own dear Boy, thou art welcome to my Arms, as e’er thy Mother was; for whose dear sake I pardon all thy Follies. [_George_ Kneels. Sir _Mer._ Ay, Sir, I had a Mother too, or I’m bely’d-- [Weeping. Pox take him that he should come just in the nick, as the old Fellow says-- [Aside. Sir _Row._ Yes, you had a Mother, whom in my Youth I was compel’d to marry; and, Gad, I think, I got thee with as ill a Will; but _George_ and my _Olivia_ in heat of Love, when my desire was new. But harkye, Boy _George_, you have cost me a damn’d deal of Money, Sirrah; but you shall marry, and redeem all, _George_. _Geo._ What you please, Sir; to study Virtue, Duty and Allegiance, shall be my future Business. Sir _Row._ Well said, _George_, here’s a Boy now. Sir _Mer._ Virtue and Allegiance! Lord, Lord, how came so sneaking a fellow to spend five thousand Pounds of his Master’s Cash? Sir _Row._ She’s rich, _George_, but something homely. _Geo._ She’ll not be proud then, Sir. Sir _Row._ Not much of her Beauty--she’s of a good staid Age too, about some fourscore. _Geo._ Better still, Sir, I shall not fear Cuckoldom. Sir _Row._ For that I cannot answer; but she has two thousand a year. I mean to settle my Family, and then--marry my self, _George_. L. _Blun._ What, to this old Lady’s Grand-daughter? Methinks she’s more fit for your Son, Sir _Rowland_, and the old Lady for you. Sir _Row._ No, no, the young Rogues can help themselves with Mistresses; but ‘tis well if an old Man can keep his Wife to himself--I’ve invited ’.m to Dinner to day, and see, they are come. Enter Lady _Youthly_, led by her Chaplain [Mr. _Twang_], and leaning on a Staff, and _Teresia_. L. _Youth._ Where’s Sir _Rowland Marteen_? Oh, your Servant, Sir, I am come. [Runs against _George_. _Twang._ Your Ladyship is mistaken, this is not Sir _Rowland_, but a handsome proper young Man.