ill the same respect and duty for his good old father?

_Wood._ Faith, sir, I have been too long from my catechism, to answer
so many questions; but, suppose there be no news of your _quondam_
son, you may comfort up your heart for such a loss; father Aldo has a
numerous progeny about the town, heaven bless them.

_Aldo._ It is very well, sir; I find you have been searching for your
relations, then, in Whetstone's Park[14]!

_Wood._ No, sir; I made some scruple of going to the foresaid place,
for fear of meeting my own father there.

_Aldo._ Before George, I could find in my heart to disinherit thee.

_Pleas._ Sure you cannot be so unnatural.

_Wood._ I am sure I am no bastard; witness one good quality I have. If
any of your children have a stronger tang of the father in them, I am
content to be disowned.

_Aldo._ Well, from this time forward, I pronounce thee--no son of
mine.

_Wood._ Then you desire I should proceed to justify I am lawfully
begotten? The evidence is ready, sir; and, if you please, I shall
relate, before this honourable assembly, those excellent lessons of
morality you gave me at our first acquaintance. As, in the first
place--

_Aldo._ Hold, hold; I charge thee hold, on thy obedience. I forgive
thee heartily: I have proof enough thou art my son; but tame thee that
can, thou art a mad one.

_Pleas._ Why this is as it should be.

_Aldo._ [_To him._] Not a word of any passages betwixt us; it is
enough we know each other; hereafter we will banish all pomp and
ceremony, and live familiarly together. I'll be Pylades, and thou mad
Orestes, and we will divide the estate betwixt us, and have fresh
wenches, and _ballum rankum_ every night.

_Wood._ A match, i'faith: and let the world pass.

_Aldo._ But hold a little; I had forgot one point: I hope you are not
married, nor engaged?

_Wood._ To nothing but my pleasures, I.

_Aldo._ A mingle of profit would do well though. Come, here is a girl;
look well upon her; it is a mettled toad, I can tell you that: She
will make notable work betwixt two sheets, in a lawful way.

_Wood._ What, my old enemy, Mrs Pleasance!

_Mrs Brain._ Marry Mrs Saintly's daughter!

_Aldo._ The truth is, she has past for her daughter, by my
appointment; but she has as good blood running in her veins, as the
best of you. Her father, Mr Palms, on his death-bed, left her to my
care and disposal, besides a fortune of twelve hundred a year; a
pretty convenience, by my fai