Fro. That's all very well; but I know the art of fleecing men. I have a secret of touching their affections by flattering their hearts, and of finding out their weak points.
La Fl. All useless here. I defy you to soften, as far as money is concerned, the man we are speaking of. He is a Turk on that point, of a Turkishness to drive anyone to despair, and we might starve in his presence and never a peg would he stir. In short, he loves money better than reputation, honour, and virtue, and the mere sight of anyone making demands upon his purse sends him into convulsions; it is like striking him in a vital place, it is piercing him to the heart, it is like tearing out his very bowels! And if … But here he comes again; I leave you.
SCENE VI.——HARPAGON, FROSINE.
Har. (aside). All is as it should be. (To Frosine) Well, what is it, Frosine?
Fro. Bless me, how well you look! You are the very picture of health.
Har. Who? I?
Fro. Never have I seen you looking more rosy, more hearty.
Har. Are you in earnest?
Fro. Why! you have never been so young in your life; and I know many a man of twenty-five who looks much older than you do.
Har. And yet, Frosine, I have passed threescore.