_Steps aside_.

_Enter_ SIR ANTHONY

SIR A. No--I'll die sooner than forgive him! Die, did I say? I'll live
these fifty years to plague him. At our last meeting, his impudence had
almost put me out of temper--an obstinate, passionate, self-willed boy!
This is my return for putting him, at twelve years old, into a marching
regiment, and allowing him fifty pounds a year, besides his pay, ever
since! But I have done with him--he's anybody's son for me--I never will
see him more--never--never--never--never.

CAPT. A. Now for a penitential face! [_Comes forward_.

SIR A. Fellow, get out of my way!

CAPT. A. Sir, you see a penitent before you.

SIR A. I see an impudent scoundrel before me.

CAPT. A. A sincere penitent. I am come, sir, to acknowledge my error,
and to submit entirely to your will.

SIR A. What's that?

CAPT. A. I have been revolving, and reflecting, and considering on your
past goodness, and kindness, and condescension to me.

SIR A. Well, sir?

CAPT. A. I have been likewise weighing and balancing, what you were
pleased to mention concerning duty, and obedience, and authority.

SIR A. Why, now you talk sense, absolute sense; I never heard anything
more sensible in my life. Confound you, you shall be Jack again!

CAPT. A. I am happy in the appellation.

SIR A. 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 A. 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
name before. Yet, stay: I think I do recollect something. Languish,
Languish! She squints, don't she? A little red-haired girl?

SIR A. Squints! A red-haired girl! Zounds, no!

CAPT. A. Then I must have forgot; it can't be the same person.

SIR A. Jack, Jack! what think you of blooming, love-breathing seventeen?

CAPT. A. As to that, sir, I am quite indifferent: if I can please you in
the matter, 'tis all I desire.

SIR A. Nay, but, Jack, such eyes! such eyes! so innocently wild! so
bashfully irresolute! Not a glance but speaks and kindles some thought
of love! Then, Jack, her cheeks!