more delighted than when holding you up to ridicule, and continually relating stories of your meanness. One says that you have special almanacks printed, in which you double the ember weeks and vigils, in order to profit by the fast days, which you compel your people to keep; another that you have always a quarrel ready for your servants at New Year’s day, or when they leave you, so that you may find a reason for not giving them anything. That one tells that you once sued one of your neighbour’s cats for having eaten the remainder of a leg of mutton; this one again that you were surprised one night in purloining the hay of your own horses, and that your coachman, that is, the one who was here before me, dealt you I do not know how many blows in the dark, of which you never broached a word. In short, shall I tell you? one can go nowhere without hearing you hauled over the coals on all sides. You are the byword and laughing-stock of every one; and you are never spoken of, except under the names of miser, curmudgeon, hunks and usurer.

Harpagon. (thrashing Master Jacques). You are a numscull, a rascal, a scoundrel, and an impudent fellow.

Jacques. Well! did I not say so beforehand? You would not believe me. I told you well enough that I should make you angry by telling you the truth.

Harpagon. That will teach you how to speak.

Scene VI.—Valère, Master Jacques.

Valère. (laughing). From what I can see, Master Jacques, your candour is ill rewarded.

Jacques. Zounds! Master Upstart, who assume the man of consequence, it is not your business. Laugh at your cudgel-blows when you shall receive them, but do not come here to laugh at mine.

Valère. Ah! Sir Master Jacques, do not get angry, I beg of you.

Jacques (aside). He is knuckling under. I shall bully him, and, if he is fool enough to be afraid of me, I shall give him a gentle drubbing. (Aloud). Are you aware, Master Laughter, that I am not in a laughing humour, and that if you annoy me, I will make you laugh on the wrong side of your mouth?

(Master Jacques drives Valère to the far end of the stage, threatening him).

Valère. Eh! gently.

Jacques. How, gently? it does not suit me.

Valère. Pray.

Jacques. You are an impertinent fellow.

Valère. Sir Master Jacques …

Jacques. There is no Sir Master Jacques at all. If I had a stick, I would give you a good drubbing.

Valère. How, a stick! (Valère makes Master Jacques retreat in his turn).

Jacques. Eh! I was not speaking of that.

Valère. Are you aware, Master Boaster, that I am the very man to give you a drubbing myself?

Jacques. I do not doubt it.

Valère. That you are, in all, nothing but a scrub of a cook?