Post-horn blows.—Enter Casimere (in a travelling dress, a light blue great coat with large metal buttons, his hair in a long queue, but twisted at the end; a large Kevenhuller hat; a cane in his hand).
Cas. Here, Waiter, pull off my boots, and bring me a pair of slippers. [Exit Waiter.] And hark’ye, my lad, a basin of water [rubbing his hands] and a bit of soap. I have not washed since I began my journey.
Waiter. [Answering from behind the door.] Yes, Sir.
Cas. Well, Landlady, what company are we to have?
Land. Only two gentlewomen, Sir.—They are just stept into the next room—they will be back again in a minute.
Cas. Where do they come from?
[All this while the Waiter re-enters with the basin and water; Casimere pulls off his boots, takes a napkin from the table, and washes his face and hands.
Land. There is one of them, I think, comes from Nuremburgh.
Cas. [Aside.] From Nuremburgh! [with eagerness] her name!
Land. Matilda.