Poly. What do I behold! Under my nose! my very nose! here too! in my study, the sanctuary of science and of learning!
Molly. Well, if nothing worse was ever learnt here, Mr. Ignoramus—
Poly. Ignatius.—But what atonement can you make for this?
Molly. Atonement! I’ve done nothing to atone for.
Poly. Nothing! Do you call that nothing? Did I not see? Did I not hear? Nothing! O tem—but you don’t understand Latin.
Molly. Latin, indeed! no, nor Greek neither; and I’m sure ’tis all Greek you are talking to me. What did you see? what did you hear? You heard Robin say good bye, that was all.
Poly. Peace! I’m a linguist, and in none of the seventeen languages I’m acquainted with, does that mean good bye.
Molly. Then I wouldn’t give seventeen figs to be as learned as you are, and your seventeen languages are not worth talking.
Poly. To what is the poor youth exposed! Mischief! Serpent! Woman! I pity, and tremble for, the unfortunate lad.
Molly. ’Tis a misfortune not likely to happen to you.