Sophia. [Rushing into her arms.] O Ratty, Ratty, what a day! what an honour! what a surprise!
Barbara. How now, what’s the matter?
Horatia. Brain of adamant! could not instinct direct you to the feet of your adored Prince?
Barbara. The Prince! Is it possible?
Sophia. Charlie! Charlie! O! what a moment!
Horatia. Did you not hear him describe the ruin of his army....
Sophia. Did you not hear ‘Charles Stew—’ upon his noble tongue....
Horatia. How he started when he recollected himself....
Sophia. And O, how exquisitely pathetic, how touchingly appropriate, the name he gave instead! Dapple; to signify how his fortunes are chequered—Dapple....