Cas. [Aside.] How does this idiot woman torment me!—What else?
Land. I can’t recollect.
Cas. Oh, agony!
[In a paroxysm of agitation.
Waiter. See here, her name upon the travelling trunk—Matilda Pottingen.
Cas. Ecstasy! ecstasy!
[Embracing the Waiter.
Land. You seem to be acquainted with the lady—shall I call her?
Cas. Instantly—instantly—tell her her loved, her long-lost—tell her——
Land. Shall I tell her dinner is ready?