words full of undisguised contempt.

SOS. Vivat Sosie!

CLE. Eh, what? Has my complaint had this effect? You laugh at your fine
goings on?

SOS. How pleased I am with myself!

CLE. Is this the way to express your grief at such an outrage?

SOS. I should never have believed I could be so prudent.

CLE. Instead of condemning yourself for such a perfidious trick, you
rejoice at it to my face!

SOS. Good gracious! Gently, gently! If I appear pleased, you must
believe that I have a very strong private reason for it; without
thinking of it, I never did better than in using you in such a manner as
I did.

CLE. Are you laughing at me, you villain?

SOS. No, I am speaking openly to you. I was in a wretched state. I had
a certain load, which your words have lifted from my soul. I was very
apprehensive, and feared that I had played the fool with you.

CLE. What is this fear? Come, let us know what you mean.

SOS. The doctors say that, when one is drunk, one should abstain from
one's wife, for, in that condition we can only have children who are
dull, and who cannot live. Think, if my heart had not armed itself with
coldness, what troubles might have followed!

CLE. I do not care a fig for doctors, with their insipid reasonings. Let
them rule those who are sick without wishing to govern healthy people.
They meddle with too many affairs when they seek to rein in our chaste
desires; in addition to the dog days, and their strict rules, they tell
us a hundred ridiculous stories into the bargain.

SOS. Gently.

CLE. No; I maintain theirs is a worthless conclusion: those reasons come
from idiotic brains. Neither wine nor time ought to prevent the duties
of conjugal love from being fulfilled; doctors are donkeys.

SOS. I entreat you, moderate your anger against them; they are honest
people, whatever the world may say of them.

CLE. Things are not what you think them; you can shut up; your excuse
will not go down; and, sooner or later, I tell you plainly, I will
avenge myself for the contempt you show me every day. I remember
everything you said just now, and I shall try to make use of the liberty
you gave me, You faithless, cowardly husband.

SOS. What?

CLE. You told me just now, you villain, that you would heartily agree to
my loving another.

SOS. Ah! In that matter I was wrong. I retract; my honour is at stake.
You had better beware you do not give way to that sentiment.

CLE. Nevertheless if some time I can