CLUTTERBUCK: Mascarille! Ah, there you are! How operates the plot? How machinates the scheme? I’ m waiting on fiendish tidings to prove our villainy a thrill.
MASCARILLE: Sir, alas, my labors, though well-prepared, have come to naught. I clutched the purse with your mortgage paid Scapin, though most curious, they came from stratagems elsewhere—
CLUTTERBUCK: What! You failed?
MASCARILLE:
I was as good— that is, as bad— as Friar Sganarelle, who robbed the usurer your funds—
CLUTTERBUCK: Incredible!
MASCARILLE:
But then, my conscience he beseeched— not to mention, terrified— by being more a man of faith than the man of faith, that crook—
CLUTTERBUCK:
Thou dunce! Thou knave! Thou braggart churl!‘ Putting buried skills to sprout’! I’ ll say! You’ ve buried credibility! I’ ll have you in the barn tonight, to teach you to purloin with aim. As a rogue, you’ ve proved a rogue. In the barn, with no dinner!