Sir Anth. Why, now you talk sense, absolute sense; I never heard anything more sensible in my life. Confound you! you shall be Jack again.
“SIR, YOU SEE A PENITENT BEFORE YOU.”
Capt. A. I am happy in the appellation.
Sir Anth. Why then, Jack, my dear Jack, I will now inform you who the lady really is. Nothing but your passion and violence, you silly fellow, prevented me telling you at first. Prepare, Jack, for wonder and rapture—prepare. What think you of Miss Lydia Languish?
Capt. A. Languish! What, the Languishes of Worcestershire?
Sir Anth. Worcestershire! no. Did you never meet Mrs. Malaprop and her niece, Miss Languish, who came into our country just before you were last ordered to your regiment?
Capt. A. Malaprop! Languish! I don’t remember ever to have heard the names before. Yet stay, I think I do recollect something—Languish—Languish—She squints, don’t she? A little red-hair’d girl!
Sir Anth. Squints! A red-hair’d girl! Zounds! no!
Capt. A. Then I must have forgot; it can’t be the same person.