Sganarelle. Whatever you like.

Martine. I have got four poor children on my hands.

Sganarelle. Put them down.

Martine.—Who keep asking me every moment for bread.

Sganarelle. Whip them. When I have had enough to eat and to drink, every one in the house ought to be satisfied.

Martine. And do you mean to tell me, you sot, that things can always go on so?

Sganarelle. Wife, let us proceed gently, if you please.

Martine. That I am to bear forever with your insolence and your debauchery?

Sganarelle. Do not let us get into a passion, wife.

Martine. And that I do not know the way to bring you back to your duty?

Sganarelle. Wife, you know that I am not very patient, and that my arm is somewhat heavy.

Martine. I laugh at your threats.

Sganarelle. My sweet wife, my pet, your skin is itching as usual.

Martine. I will let you see that I am not afraid of you.

Sganarelle. My dearest rib, you have set your heart upon a thrashing.

Martine. Do you think that I am frightened at your talk?

Sganarelle. Sweet object of my affections, I shall box your ears for you.

Martine. Sot that you are!

Sganarelle. I shall thrash you.

Martine. Walking wine-cask!

Sganarelle. I shall pummel you.

Martine. Infamous wretch!

Sganarelle. I shall curry your skin for you.

Martine. Wretch! villain! deceiver! cur! scoundrel! gallows-bird! churl! rogue! scamp! thief! …

Sganarelle. You will have it, will you? (Takes a stick and beats her.)

Martine (shrieking). Help! help! help! help!

Sganarelle. That is the real way of quieting you.