SCENE VI.--SGANARELLE, SGANARELLE'S WIFE. SGAN. (_Thinking himself alone_). They thought her dead, but it was nothing at all! She is already recovering and nearly well again. But I see my wife. SGAN.'S WIFE. (_Thinking herself alone_). O Heaven! It is a miniature, a fine picture of a handsome man. SGAN. (_Aside, and looking over his wife's shoulder_). What is this she looks at so closely? This picture bodes my honour little good. A very ugly feeling of jealousy begins to creep over me. SGAN.'S WIFE. (_Not seeing her husband_). I never saw anything more beautiful in my life! The workmanship is even of greater value than the gold! Oh, how sweet it smells! SGAN. (_Aside_). The deuce! She kisses it! I am victimized! SGAN.'S WIFE. (_Continues her Monologue_.) I think it must be a charming thing to have such a fine-looking man for a sweetheart; if he should urge his suit very much the temptation would be great. Alas! why have I not a handsome man like this for my husband instead of my booby, my clod-hopper...? SGAN. (_Snatching the portrait from her_). What, hussey! have I caught you in the very act, slandering your honourable and darling husband? According to you, most worthy spouse, and everything well considered, the husband is not as good as the wife? In Beelzebub's name (and may he fly away with you), what better match could you wish for? Is there any fault to be found with me? It seems that this shape, this air, which everybody admires; this face, so fit to inspire love, for which a thousand fair ones sigh both night and day; in a word, my own delightful self, by no manner of means pleases you. Moreover, to satisfy your ravenous appetite you add to the husband the relish of a gallant. SGAN.'S WIFE. I see plainly the drift of your jocular remarks, though you do not clearly express yourself. You expect by these means... SGAN. Try to impose upon others, not upon me, I pray you. The fact is evident; I have in my hands a convincing proof of the injury I complain of. SGAN.'S WIFE. I am already too angry, and do not wish you to make me more so by any fresh insult. Hark ye, do not imagine that you shall keep this pretty thing; consider... SGAN. I am seriously considering whether I shall break your neck. I wish I had but the original of this portrait in my power as much as I have the copy. SGAN.'S WIFE. Why? SGAN. For nothing at all, dear, sweet object of my love! I am very wrong to speak out; my forehead ought to thank you for many favours received. (_Looking at the portrait of Lelio_). There he is, your darling, the pretty bed-fellow, the wicked incentive of your secret flame, the merry blade with whom... SGAN.'S WIFE. With whom? Go on. SGAN. With whom, I say... I am almost bursting with vexation.