Read this extract, and then answer the question that follows it: Jack: I have lost both my parents. Lady Bracknell: To lose one parent, Mr. Worthing, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness. Who was your father? He was evidently a man of some wealth. Was he born in what the Radical papers call the purple of commerce, or did he rise from the ranks of the aristocracy? Jack: I'm afraid I really don't know. The fact is, Lady Bracknell, I said I had lost my parents. It would be nearer the truth to say that my parents seem to have lost me. I don't actually know who I am by birth. I was well, I was found. Lady Bracknell: Found! Jack: The late Mr. Thomas Cardew, an old gentleman of a very charitable and kindly disposition, found me, and gave me the name of Worthing, because he happened to have a first-class ticket for Worthing in his pocket at the time. Worthing is a place in Sussex. It is a seaside resort. Lady Bracknell: Where did the charitable gentleman who had a first-class ticket for this seaside resort find you? Jack: [Gravely.] In a hand-bag. Lady Bracknell: A hand-bag? Jack: [Very seriously.] Yes, Lady Bracknell. I was in a hand-bag-a somewhat large, black leather hand-bag, with handles to it-an ordinary hand-bag in fact. Lady Bracknell: In what locality did this Mr. James, or Thomas, Cardew come across this ordinary hand-bag? Jack: In the cloak-room at Victoria Station. It was given to him in mistake for his own. Lady Bracknell: The cloak-room at Victoria Station? Jack: Yes. The Brighton line. Lady Bracknell: The line is immaterial. Mr. Worthing, I confess I feel somewhat bewildered by what you have just told me. To be born, or at any rate bred, in a hand-bag, whether it had handles or not, seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life that reminds one of the worst excesses of the French Revolution. And I presume you know what that unfortunate movement led to? As for the particular locality in which the hand-bag was found, a cloak-room at a railway station might serve to conceal a social indiscretion—has probably, indeed, been used for that purpose before now-but it could hardly be regarded as an assured basis for a recognised position in good society. Jack: May I ask you then what I would advise me to do? I need hardly say I would I do anything in the world to ensure Gwendolen's happiness. Lady Bracknell: I would strongly advise you, Mr. Worthing, to try and acquire some relations as soon as possible, and to make a definite effort to produce at any rate one parent, of either sex, before the season is quite over. Jack: Well, I don't see how I could possibly manage to do that. What do you think makes this such a memorably comic moment in the play? Support your ideas with details from Wilde's writing.

1. Read this extract, and then answer the question that follows it: Jack: I have lost both my parents. Lady Bracknell: To lose one parent, Mr. Worthing, may be regarded as a misfortune; to lose both looks like carelessness. Who was your father? He was evidently a man of some wealth. Was he born in what the Radical papers call the purple of commerce, or did he rise from the ranks of the aristocracy? Jack: I'm afraid I really don't know. The fact is, Lady Bracknell, I said I had lost my parents. It would be nearer the truth to say that my parents seem to have lost me. I don't actually know who I am by birth. I was well, I was found. Lady Bracknell: Found! Jack: The late Mr. Thomas Cardew, an old gentleman of a very charitable and kindly disposition, found me, and gave me the name of Worthing, because he happened to have a first-class ticket for Worthing in his pocket at the time. Worthing is a place in Sussex. It is a seaside resort. Lady Bracknell: Where did the charitable gentleman who had a first-class ticket for this seaside resort find you? Jack: [Gravely.] In a hand-bag. Lady Bracknell: A hand-bag? Jack: [Very seriously.] Yes, Lady Bracknell. I was in a hand-bag-a somewhat large, black leather hand-bag, with handles to it-an ordinary hand-bag in fact. Lady Bracknell: In what locality did this Mr. James, or Thomas, Cardew come across this ordinary hand-bag? Jack: In the cloak-room at Victoria Station. It was given to him in mistake for his own. Lady Bracknell: The cloak-room at Victoria Station? Jack: Yes. The Brighton line. Lady Bracknell: The line is immaterial. Mr. Worthing, I confess I feel somewhat bewildered by what you have just told me. To be born, or at any rate bred, in a hand-bag, whether it had handles or not, seems to me to display a contempt for the ordinary decencies of family life that reminds one of the worst excesses of the French Revolution. And I presume you know what that unfortunate movement led to? As for the particular locality in which the hand-bag was found, a cloak-room at a railway station might serve to conceal a social indiscretion—has probably, indeed, been used for that purpose before now-but it could hardly be regarded as an assured basis for a recognised position in good society. Jack: May I ask you then what I would advise me to do? I need hardly say I would I do anything in the world to ensure Gwendolen's happiness. Lady Bracknell: I would strongly advise you, Mr. Worthing, to try and acquire some relations as soon as possible, and to make a definite effort to produce at any rate one parent, of either sex, before the season is quite over. Jack: Well, I don't see how I could possibly manage to do that. What do you think makes this such a memorably comic moment in the play? Support your ideas with details from Wilde's writing.[25]