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?