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Scene IX.Martine, Sganarelle, Lucas. Martine (to Lucas). Good gracious! what a difficulty I have had to find this place! Just tell me what has become of the physician I recommended to you? Lucas. Here he is; just going to be hanged. Martine. What! my husband hanged! Alas, and for what? Lucas. He has helped some one to run away with masters daughter. Martine. Alas, my dear husband, is it true that you are going to be hanged? Sganarelle. Judge for yourself. Ah! Martine. And must you be made an end of in the presence of such a crowd. Sganarelle. What am I to do? Martine. If you had only finished cutting our wood, I should be somewhat consoled. Sganarelle. Leave me, you break my heart. Martine. No, I will remain to encourage you to die; and I will not leave you until I have seen you hanged. Sganarelle. Ah! Scene X.Géronte, Sganarelle, Martine. Géronte (to Sganarelle). The magistrate will be here directly, and we shall put you in a place of safety where they will be answerable for you. Sganarelle (on his knees, hat in hand). Alas! will not a few strokes with a cudgel do instead? Géronte. No; no; the law shall decide. But what do I see? Scene XI.Géronte, Léandre, Lucinde, Sganarelle, Lucas, Martine. Léandre. Sir, I appear before you as Léandre, and am come to restore Lucinde to your authority. We intended to run away, and get married; but this design has given away to a more honourable proceeding. I will not presume to steal away your daughter, and it is from your hands alone that I will obtain her. I must at the same time acquaint you, that I have just now received some letters informing me of the death of my uncle, and that he has left me heir to all his property. Géronte. Really, Sir, your virtue is worthy of my utmost consideration, and I give you my daughter with the greatest pleasure in the world. Sganarelle (aside). The physician has had a narrow escape! Martine. Since you are not going to be hanged, you may thank me for being a physician; for I have procured you this honour. Sganarelle. Yes, it is you who procured me, I do not know how many thwacks with a cudgel. Léandre (to Sganarelle). The result has proved too happy to harbour any resentment. |
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