Cle. Hear me, father, you have no reason to complain; and everyone knows that you are well enough off.
Har. How? I am well enough off! Those who say it are liars. Nothing can be more false; and they are scoundrels who spread such reports.
Eli. Don't be angry.
Har. It is strange that my own children betray me and become my enemies.
Cle. Is it being your enemy to say that you have wealth?
Har. Yes, it is. Such talk and your extravagant expenses will be the cause that some day thieves will come and cut my throat, in the belief that I am made of gold.
Cle. What extravagant expenses do I indulge in?
Har. What! Is there anything more scandalous than this sumptuous attire with which you jaunt it about the town? I was remonstrating with your sister yesterday, but you are still worse. It cries vengeance to heaven; and were we to calculate all you are wearing, from head to foot, we should find enough for a good annuity. I have told you a hundred times, my son, that your manners displease me exceedingly; you affect the marquis terribly, and for you to be always dressed as you are, you must certainly rob me.
Cle. Rob you? And how?
Har. How should I know? Where else could you find money enough to clothe yourself as you do?