Bow. Well, my dear sir, what is the matter?
Byke. O, sir, forgive my tears. I'm a broken-hearted man!
Bow. Be calm, my dear sir. Officer, bring this gentleman a chair.
Byke. Ah, sir, you are very good to a poor distressed father, whose existence has been made a desert on account of his child.
Bow. Repress your emotion, and tell me what you want.
Byke. I want my child.
Bow. Where is she?
Byke. She is here, sir—here—my darling, my beautiful child, and so unfilial—so unnatural.
Bow. How is this, young lady?
Laura. (Standing inside railing L. H.) It is all a lie. He is not my father.
Byke. Not your father? Oh, dear, oh, dear, you will break my heart.
Bow. This needs some explanation. If not his child, who are you?
Laura. I am—I dare not say it. I know not who I am, but I feel that he cannot be my father.
Byke. O, dear—O—
Bow. (Sharply.) Silence! (To Laura sternly.) You say you don't know who you are. Do you know this man?
Laura. Yes.
Bow. Where, and with whom do you live?
Laura. I have lived alone for four months.
Bow. And with whom did you live before that?
Laura. O, forgive me, if I seem disobedient—but I cannot tell.
Bow. Then I must look to this gentleman for information.
Byke. And 1 will gladly give it. Yes, sir, I will gladly tell. She was taken from me years ago, when she was but a little child, by rich people who wanted to adopt her. I refused—they paid me—I was poor—I was starving—I forebore to claim her—she was happy, but they turned her forth four months ago into the street. I could not see her suffer—my child—the prop of my declining days. I begged her to come—she refused. My enemies had poisoned my daughter's mind against me, her father. I am still poor. I taught school, but I have saved a little money, only for her.
Bow. How old is she?
Byke. Nineteen.
Bow. (To Laura.) Your father is your legal guardian during your minority, and is entitled to your custody. Why are you so undutiful? Try to correct this.
Byke. Oh, bless you, dear, good judge for those words.
Laura. O, have I no friends, must I go with him?
Bow. Certainly.
Laura. Anything then. Exposure! Disgrace, rather than that!
[Judges consult. Enter Snorkey L. goes opposite to Laura and signals her.
Byke. (Aside.) Snorkey! the devil!
Snorkey. (Crossing to Laura L. C.) Can I help you miss? Only tell me what to do, and if it takes my other arm off, I'll save you.
Laura. Yes, yes, you can help me! (To Judge.) Will you let me send a message?
Bow. You may do that.
