and cut my Thred thy self, thou graceless reprobate
Rascal--Come, come on, you Man of Bravery.
[Runs at Sir _Merlin_, who retires before him: Sir _Morgan_ holds
Sir _Rowland_.

Sir _Mer._ Oh, good Sir, hold: I recant, Sir, I recant.

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 Cucko