ORGON Yes, and this very evening, to enrage you, Young rascal! Ah! I'll brave you all, and show you That I'm the master, and must be obeyed. Now, down upon your knees this instant, rogue, And take back what you said, and ask his pardon. DAMIS Who? I? Ask pardon of that cheating scoundrel . . . ? ORGON Do you resist, you beggar, and insult him? A cudgel, here! a cudgel! (To Tartuffe) Don't restrain me. (To his son) Off with you! Leave my house this instant, sirrah, And never dare set foot in it again. DAMIS Yes, I will leave your house, but . . . ORGON Leave it quickly. You reprobate, I disinherit you, And give you, too, my curse into the bargain. SCENE VII ORGON, TARTUFFE ORGON What! So insult a saintly man of God! TARTUFFE Heaven, forgive him all the pain he gives me! [4] [Footnote 4: Some modern editions have adopted the reading, preserved by tradition as that of the earliest stage version: Heaven, forgive him even as I forgive him
the length and breadth of a pair of indentures? The very conveyances of his lands will hardly lie in this box; and must the inheritor himself have no more, ha? HORATIO Not a jot more, my lord. HAMLET Is not parchment made of sheepskins? HORATIO Ay, my lord, and of calf-skins too. HAMLET 169 They are sheep and calves which seek out assurance in that. I will speak to this fellow. Whose grave's this, sirrah? First Clown Mine, sir. Sings O, a pit of clay for to be made For such a guest is meet. HAMLET I think it be thine, indeed; for thou liest in't. First Clown You lie out on't, sir, and therefore it is not yours: for my part, I do not lie in't, and yet it is mine. HAMLET 'Thou dost lie in't, to be in't and say it is thine: 'tis for the dead, not for the quick; therefore thou liest. First Clown 'Tis a quick lie, sir; 'twill away gain, from me to you. HAMLET
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