SGAN. (Alone). This confession is pretty plain. His extraordinary speech surprises me as much as if horns had grown upon my head. (Looking at the side where Lelio went off). Go your way, you have not acted at all like an honourable man.
CEL. (Aside, entering). Who can that be? Just now I saw Lelio.
Why does he conceal his return from me?
SGAN. (Without seeing Celia). "O too happy mortal in having so beautiful a wife!" Say rather, unhappy mortal in having such a disgraceful spouse through whose guilty passion, it is now but too clear, I have been cuckolded without any feeling of compassion. Yet I allow him to go away after such a discovery, and stand with my arms folded like a regular silly-billy! I ought at least to have knocked his hat off, thrown stones at him, or mud on his cloak; to satisfy my wrath I should rouse the whole neighbourhood, and cry, "Stop, thief of my honour!"
CEL. (To Sganarelle). Pray, sir, how came you to know this gentleman who went away just now and spoke to you?
SGAN. Alas! madam, it is not I who am acquainted with him; it is my wife.
CEL. What emotion thus disturbs your mind?
SGAN. Do not blame me; I have sufficient cause for my sorrow; permit me to breathe plenty of sighs.
CEL. What can be the reason of this uncommon grief?
SGAN. If I am sad it is not for a trifle: I challenge other people not to grieve, if they found themselves in my condition. You see in me the model of unhappy husbands. Poor Sganarelle's honour is taken from him; but the loss of my honour would be small—they deprive me of my reputation also.
CEL. How do they do that?