Scene II.—M. Robert, Sganarelle, Martine.

M. Robert. Hulloa, hulloa, hulloa! Fie! What is this? What a disgraceful thing! Plague take the scamp to beat his wife so.

Martine (her arms akimbo, speaks to M. Robert, and makes him draw back; at last she gives him a slap on the face). And I like him to beat me, I do.

M. Robert. If that is the case, I consent with all my heart.

Martine. What are you interfering with?

M. Robert. I am wrong.

Martine. Is it any of your business?

M. Robert. You are right.

Martine. Just look at this jackanapes, who wishes to hinder husbands from beating their wives!

M. Robert. I apologize.

Martine. What have you got to say to it?

M. Robert. Nothing.

Martine. Is it for you to poke your nose into it?

M. Robert. No.

Martine. Mind your own business.

M. Robert. I shall not say another word.

Martine. It pleases me to be beaten.

M. Robert. Agreed.

Martine. It does not hurt you.

M. Robert. That is true.

Martine. And you are an ass to interfere with what does not concern you.

M. Robert. Neighbour, I ask your pardon with all my heart. Go on, thrash and beat your wife as much as you like; I shall help you, if you wish it. (He goes towards Sganarelle, who also speaks to him, makes him draw back, beats him with the stick he has been using, and puts him to flight).

Sganarelle. I do not wish it.

M. Robert. Ah! that is a different thing.

Sganarelle. I will beat her if I like; and I will not beat her if I do not like.

M. Robert. Very good.

Sganarelle. She is my wife, and not yours.