MASC. Me, sir! A fool might, but not I! Anger hurts, and I am going to
take care of myself, come what will. After all, whether Celia be captive
or free, whether Leander purchases her or whether she remains where she
is, I do not care one stiver about it.

LEL. Ah! do not show such indifference, but be a little more indulgent
to my slight imprudence. Had this last misfortune not happened, you
would have confessed that I did wonders, and that in this pretended
decease I deceived everybody, and counterfeited grief so admirably that
the most sharp-sighted would have been taken in.

MASC. Truly you have great reason to boast.

LEL. Oh! I am to blame, and I am willing to acknowledge it; but if ever
you cared for my happiness, repair this mishap, and help me.

MASC. I kiss your hands, I cannot spare the time.

LEL. Mascarille, my dear boy!

MASC. No.

LEL. Do me this favour.

MASC. No, I will not.

LEL. If you are inflexible, I shall kill myself.

MASC. Do so--you may.