SIR SAMPSON, VALENTINE, SCANDAL, JEREMY, and LAWYER. VALENTINE upon a couch disorderly dressed.

SIR SAMP. How now, what's here to do?

VAL. Ha! Who's that? [Starting.]

SCAN. For heav'n's sake softly, sir, and gently; don't provoke him.

VAL. Answer me: who is that, and that?

SIR SAMP. Gads bobs, does he not know me? Is he mischievous? I'll speak gently. Val, Val, dost thou not know me, boy? Not know thy own father, Val? I am thy own father, and this is honest Brief Buckram, the lawyer.

VAL. It may be so--I did not know you--the world is full. There are people that we do know, and people that we do not know, and yet the sun shines upon all alike. There are fathers that have many children, and there are children that have many fathers. 'Tis strange! But I am Truth, and come to give the world the lie.

SIR SAMP. Body o' me, I know not what to say to him.

VAL. Why does that lawyer wear black? Does he carry his conscience withoutside? Lawyer what art thou? Dost thou know me?

BUCK. O Lord, what must I say? Yes, sir,

VAL. Thou liest, for I am Truth. 'Tis hard I cannot get a livelihood amongst you. I have been sworn out of Westminster Hall the first day of every term--let me see--no matter how long. But I'll tell you one thing: it's a question that would puzzle an arithmetician, if you should ask him, whether the Bible saves more souls in Westminster Abbey, or damns more in Westminster Hall. For my part, I am Truth, and can't tell; I have very few acquaintance.

SIR SAMP. Body o' me, he talks sensibly in his madness. Has he no intervals?

JERE. Very short, sir.

BUCK. Sir, I can do you no service while he's in this condition. Here's your paper, sir--he may do me a mischief if I stay. The conveyance is ready, sir, if he recover his senses.