Wear out the wretched days that Heaven allots me.

ORGON
These girls are ninnies!--always turning nuns
When fathers thwart their silly love-affairs.
Get on your feet! The more you hate to have him,
The more 'twill help you earn your soul's salvation.
So, mortify your senses by this marriage,
And don't vex me about it any more.

DORINE
But what . . . ?

ORGON
You hold your tongue, before your betters.
Don't dare to say a single word, I tell you.

CLEANTE
If you will let me answer, and advise . . .

ORGON
Brother, I value your advice most highly;
'Tis well thought out; no better can be had;
But you'll allow me--not to follow it.

ELMIRE (to her husband)
I can't find words to cope with such a case;
Your blindness makes me quite astounded at you.
You are bewitched with him, to disbelieve
The things we tell you happened here to-day.