_Foss._ I tell you, I never had any children. I shall grow distracted, I shall----
_Pos._ But did you give any orders against registring the child by the name of Fossile?
_Pos._ Set down that, clerk. He did not prohibit the registring the child in his own name. We our selves have observed one sign of fatherly tenderness; clerk, set down the water-pap he order'd just now. Come we may----
_Pos._ Come we now, I say, to that which the lawyers call _magnum naturæ argumentum_, similitude of features. Bring hither the child, friend; Dr. Fossile, look upon me. The unequal circle of the infant's face, somewhat resembles the inequality of the circumference of your countenance; he has also the vituline or calf-like concavity of the profile of your visage.
_Pos._ And he is somewhat beetle-brow'd, and his nose will rise with time to an equal prominence with the doctor's.
_Town._ Indeed he has somewhat of your nose Mr. Fossile.
_Pos._ Consider the large aperture of his mouth.
_Sail._ Nay, the tokens are plain enough. I have the fellow of him at home; but my wife told me two days ago, that this with the wall-eye and splay-foot belong'd to you, Sir.
[_Prue runs a-cross the stage with a letter, which Fossile snatches from her._
_Fos._ Whither are you going so fast, hussy? I will examine every thing within these walls. [_Exit Prue._] [_reads._] 'For Richard Plotwell, esq;' This letter unravels the whole affair: As she is an unfortunate relation of mine, I must beg you would act with discretion.
'Sir, the child which you father'd is return'd back upon my hands. Your Drury-lane friends have treated me with such rudeness, that they told me in plain terms I should be damn'd. How unfortunate soever my offspring is, I hope you at least will defend the reputation of the unhappy
----As you say, doctor, the case is too plain; every circumstance hits.
_Clink._ 'Tis very uncivil, Sir, to break open one's letters.
_Foss._ Would I had not; and that the contents of it had been a secret to me and all mankind for ever. Wretched creature, to what a miserable condition has thy poetry reduc'd thee!
_Clink._ I am not in the least mortified with the accident. I know it has happen'd to many of the most famous daughters of Apollo; and to myself several times.