LYDIA
With all my soul, ma'am—when I refuse my Beverley——
Sir ANTHONY 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?
ABSOLUTE Faith, sir, I am not quite clear myself; but I'll endeavour to recollect.
Sir ANTHONY Are you my son or not?—answer for your mother, you dog, if you won't for me.
Mrs. MALAPROP
Ay, sir, who are you? O mercy! I begin to suspect!——
ABSOLUTE [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.
LYDIA
[Sullenly.] So!—there will be no elopement after all!
Sir ANTHONY
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!
ABSOLUTE Oh, you flatter me, sir—you compliment—'tis my modesty, you know, sir,—my modesty that has stood in my way.
Sir ANTHONY 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!