Harpagon (feeling the outside of La Flèche’s pockets). Those wide breeches are just fit to become receivers for things purloined, and I wish one of them had been hanged at the gallows.

La Flèche (aside). Ah, how a man like this well deserves the thing he fears! and how much pleasure I would have in robbing him!

Harpagon. Eh?

La Flèche. What?

Harpagon. What are you muttering about robbing!

La Flèche. I am saying that you feel carefully everywhere to see if I have robbed you.

Harpagon. That is what I mean to do. (Harpagon fumbles in La Flèche’s pockets).

La Flèche (aside). May the plague take avarice and all avaricious people!

Harpagon. What! what are you saying?

La Flèche. What am I saying?

Harpagon. Yes; what are you saying about avarice and avaricious people?

La Flèche. I say may the plague take avarice and all avaricious people.

Harpagon. To whom are you alluding?

La Flèche. To avaricious people.

Harpagon. And who are they, these avaricious people?

La Flèche. Villains and curmudgeons.

Harpagon. But whom do you mean by that?

La Flèche. What are you troubling yourself about?

Harpagon. I am troubling myself about what concerns me.

La Flèche. Do you think that I am speaking of you?

Harpagon. I think what I think; but I wish you to tell me to whom you are addressing yourself when you say that.

La Flèche. I am addressing myself … I am addressing myself to my cap.

Harpagon. And I might address myself to the head that is in it.

La Flèche. Will you prevent me from cursing avaricious people?

Harpagon. No: but I will prevent you from jabbering, and from being insolent. Hold your tongue!

La Flèche. I name no one.

Harpagon. I shall thrash you if you say another word.

La Flèche. Whom the cap fits, let him wear it.