MASCARILLE: Some fingers lopped—
CLUTTERBUCK: Alas, alack, I might be shocked. To think of you as cunning quick as you are bold and vigorous—
MASCARILLE: My hangnails trimmed—
CLUTTERBUCK: Ah yes! Do show some pluck. Audacious blood and subtle brain! Now, let me add the master stroke—
MASCARILLE: A pedicure?
CLUTTERBUCK: Buck up, you rogue. I also want to clinch a score I have with the town friar, that mendacious imp, who I suspect has reasons to survey my wife.
MASCARILLE: [ ASIDE:] That clever fraud. [ TO CLUTTERBUCK:] That man of God?
CLUTTERBUCK: So what of that? Does a career thwart lusts or tastes? Are we the us that everyone sees day to day, or are we who we want to be? Besides, I know this arrant scamp has up his sleeve intrigues and plots to cuckold me.
MASCARILLE: [ ASIDE:] I stand impressed. [ TO CLUTTERBUCK:] I am distressed.
CLUTTERBUCK: So I have schemed a double twist: you rob Scapin in the disguise