SCENE VI.—BÉLINE, ARGAN.
Arg. Ah! come near, my wife.
Bel. What ails you, my poor, dear husband?
Arg. Come to my help.
Bel. What is the matter, my little darling child?
Arg. My love.
Bel. My love.
Arg. They have just put me in a rage.
Bel. Alas! my poor little husband! How was that, my own dear pet?
Arg. That jade of yours, Toinette, has grown more insolent than ever.