Sir Anth. Zounds! the girl’s mad!—her brain’s turned by reading.

Mrs. Mal. O’ my conscience, I believe so!—What do you mean by Beverley, hussy?—You saw Captain Absolute before to-day; there he is—your husband that shall be.

Lyd. With all my soul, ma’am—when I refuse my Beverley—

Sir Anth. Oh! she’s as mad as Bedlam!—or has this fellow been playing us a rogue’s trick!—Come here, sirrah, who the devil are you?

Abs. Faith, sir, I am not quite clear myself; but I’ll endeavour to recollect.

Sir Anth. Are you my son or not?—answer for your mother, you dog, if you won’t for me.

Mrs. Mal. Ay, sir, who are you? O mercy! I begin to suspect!—

Abs. [Aside.] Ye powers of impudence, befriend me!—[Aloud.] Sir Anthony, most assuredly I am your wife’s son; and that I sincerely believe myself to be yours also, I hope my duty has always shown.—Mrs. Malaprop, I am your most respectful admirer, and shall be proud to add affectionate nephew.—I need not tell my Lydia, that she sees her faithful Beverley, who, knowing the singular generosity of her temper, assumed that name and station, which has proved a test of the most disinterested love, which he now hopes to enjoy in a more elevated character.

Lyd. So!—there will be no elopement after all!

[Sullenly.

Sir Anth. Upon my soul, Jack, thou art a very impudent fellow! to do you justice, I think I never saw a piece of more consummate assurance!

Abs. Oh, you flatter me, sir—you compliment—’tis my modesty, you know, sir—my modesty that has stood in my way.

Sir Anth. Well, I am glad you are not the dull, insensible varlet you pretended to be, however!—I’m glad you have made a fool of your father, you dog—I am. So this was your penitence, your duty and obedience!—I thought it was damned sudden!—You never heard their names before, not you!—what, the Languishes of Worcestershire, hey?—if you could please me in the affair it was all you desired!—Ah! you dissembling villain!—What!—[Pointing to Lydia] she squints don’t she?—a little red-haired girl!— hey?—Why, you hypocritical young rascal!—I wonder you ain’t ashamed to hold up your head!

Abs. ’Tis with difficulty, sir.—I am confused—very much confused, as you must perceive.

Mrs. Mal. O Lud! Sir Anthony!—a new light breaks in upon me!—hey!—how! what! captain, did you write the letters then? —What—am I to thank you for the elegant compilation of an old weather-beaten she-dragon—hey?—O mercy!—was it you that reflected on my parts of speech?

Abs. Dear sir! my modesty will be overpowered at last, if you don’t assist me.—I shall certainly not be able to stand it?

Sir Anth. Come, come, Mrs. Malaprop, we must forget and forgive;—odds life! matters have taken so clever a turn all of a sudden, that I could find in my heart to be so good-humoured! and so gallant! hey! Mrs. Malaprop!

Mrs. Mal. Well, Sir Anthony, since you desire it, we will not anticipate the past!—so mind, young people—our retrospection will be all to the future.