_Wid._ Pettifogging! thou profane villain, hast thou so? Pettifogging!--then you shall take your leave of me, and your estate too; thou shalt be an alien to me and it forever. Pettifogging! _Jer._ O, but if you go there too, mother, we have the deeds and settlements, I thank you. Would you cheat me of my estate, i'fac? _Wid._ No, no, I will not cheat your little brother Bob; for thou wert not born in wedlock. _Free._ How's that? _Jer._ How? what quirk has she got in her head now? _Wid._ I say, thou canst not, shalt not inherit the Blackacres' estate. _Jer._ Why? why, forsooth? What d'ye mean, if you go there too? _Wid._ Thou art but my base child; and according to the law, canst not inherit it. Nay, thou art not so much as bastard eigne.[123] _Jer._ What, what, am I then the son of a whore, mother? _Wid._ The law says-- _Free._ Madam, we know what the law says; but have a care what you say. Do not let your passion, to ruin your son, ruin your reputation. _Wid._ Hang reputation, sir! am not I a widow? have no husband, nor intend to have any? Nor would you, I suppose, now have me for a wife. So I think now I'm revenged on my son and you, without marrying, as I told you. _Free._ But consider, madam. _Jer._ What, have you no shame left in you, mother? _Wid._ Wonder not at it, major. 'Tis often the poor pressed widow's case, to give up her honour to save her jointure; and seem to be a light woman, rather than marry: as some young men, they say, pretend to have the filthy disease, and lose their credit with most women, to avoid the importunities of some. [_Aside to_ OLDFOX. _Free._ But one word with you, madam. _Wid._ No, no, sir. Come, major, let us make haste now to the Prerogative-court. _Old._ But, lady, if what you say be true, will you stigmatise your reputation on record? and if it be not true, how will you prove it? _Wid._ Pshaw! I can prove anything: and for my reputation, know, major, a wise woman will no more value her reputation, in disinheriting a rebellious son of a good estate, than she would in getting him, to inherit an estate. [_Exeunt_ Widow BLACKACRE _and_ Major OLDFOX. _Free._ Madam.--We must not let her go so, squire. _Jer._ Nay, the devil can't stop her though, if she has a mind to't. But come, bully-guardian, we'll go and advise with three attorneys, two proctors, two solicitors, and a shrewd man of Whitefriars, neither attorney, proctor, nor solicitor, but as pure a pimp to the law as any of 'em: and sure all they will be hard enough for her, for I fear, bully-guardian, you are too good a joker to have any law in your head. _Free._ Thou'rt in the right on't, squire, I understand no law; especially that against bastards, since I'm sure the custom is against that law, and more people get estates by being so, than lose 'em. [_Exeunt._ SCENE II.--OLIVIA'S _Lodging._ _Enter_ Lord PLAUSIBLE _and_ Boy _with a candle._