SCENE VII. – MARIANNE, FROSINE, MASTER JACQUES
Fro. Do you know if your master is at home?
Jac. Yes, he is indeed; I know it but too well.
Fro. Tell him, please, that we are here.
SCENE VIII. – MARIANNE, FROSINE
Mar. Ah! Frosine, how strange I feel, and how I dread this interview!
Fro. Why should you? What can you possibly dread?
Mar. Alas! can you ask me? Can you not understand the alarms of a person about to see the instrument of torture to which she is to be tied.
Fro. I see very well that to die agreeably, Harpagon is not the torture you would embrace; and I can judge by your looks that the fair young man you spoke of to me is still in your thoughts.
Mar. Yes, Frosine; it is a thing I do not wish to deny. The respectful visits he has paid at our house have left, I confess, a great impression on my heart.
Fro. But do you know who he is?
Mar. No, I do not. All I know is that he is made to be loved; that if things were left to my choice, I would much rather marry him than any other, and that he adds not a little to the horrible dread that I have of the husband they want to force upon me.
Fro. Oh yes! All those dandies are very pleasant, and can talk agreeably enough, but most of them are as poor as church mice; and it is much better for you to marry an old husband, who gives you plenty of money. I fully acknowledge that the senses somewhat clash with the end I propose, and that there are certain little inconveniences to be endured with such a husband; but all that won't last; and his death, believe me, will soon put you in a position to take a more pleasant husband, who will make amends for all.
Mar. Oh, Frosine! What a strange state of things that, in order to be happy, we must look forward to the death of another. Yet death will not fall in with all the projects we make.
Fro. You are joking. You marry him with the express understanding that he will soon leave you a widow; it must be one of the articles of the marriage contract. It would be very wrong in him not to die before three months are over. Here he is himself.
Mar. Ah! dear Frosine, what a face!
SCENE IX. – HARPAGON, MARIANNE, FROSINE
Har. (to Marianne). Do not be offended, fair one, if I come to you with my glasses on. I know that your beauty is great enough to be seen with the naked eye; but, still, it is with glasses that we look at the stars, and I maintain and uphold that you are a star, the most beautiful and in the land of stars. Frosine, she does not answer, star, it seems to me, shows no joy at the sight of me.
Fro. It is because she is still quite awe-struck, and young girls are always shy at first, and afraid of showing what they feel.
Har. (to Frosine). You are right. (To Marianne) My pretty darling, there is my daughter coming to welcome you.
SCENE X. – HARPAGON, ÉLISE, MARIANNE, FROSINE
Mar. I am very late in acquitting myself of the visit I owed you.
Eli. You have done what I ought to have done. It was for me to have come and seen you first.
Har. You see what a great girl she is; but ill weeds grow apace.
Mar. (aside to Frosine). Oh, what an unpleasant man!
Har. (to Frosine). What does my fair one say?
Fro. That she thinks you perfect.
Har. You do me too much honour, my adorable darling.
Mar. (aside). What a dreadful creature!
Har. I really feel too grateful to you for these sentiments.
Mar. (aside). I can bear it no longer.
SCENE XI. – HARPAGON, MARIANNE, ÉLISE, CLÉANTE, VALÈRE, FROSINE, BRINDAVOINE
Har. Here is my son, who also comes to pay his respects to you.
Mar. (aside to Frosine). Oh, Frosine! what a strange meeting! He is the very one of whom I spoke to you.
Fro. (to Marianne). Well, that is extraordinary.
Har. You are surprised to see that my children can be so old; but I shall soon get rid of both of them.
Cle. (to Marianne). Madam, to tell you the truth, I little expected such an event; and my father surprised me not a little when he told me to-day of the decision he had come to.
Mar. I can say the same thing. It is an unexpected meeting; and I certainly was far from being prepared for such an event.
Cle. Madam, my father cannot make a better choice, and it is a great joy to me to have the honour of welcoming you here. At the same time, I cannot say that I should rejoice if it were your intention to become my stepmother. I must confess that I should find it difficult to pay you the compliment; and it is a title, forgive me, that I cannot wish you to have. To some this speech would seem coarse, but I feel that you understand it. This marriage, Madam, is altogether repugnant to me. You are not ignorant, now that you know who I am, how opposed it is to all my own interests, and with my father's permission I hope you will allow me to say that, if things depended on me, it would never take place.
Har. (aside). What a very impertinent speech to make; and what a confession to make to her!
Mar. And as my answer, I must tell you that things are much the same with me, and that, if you have any repugnance in seeing me your stepmother, I shall have no less in seeing you my stepson. Do not believe, I beg of you, that it is of my own will that this trouble has come upon you. I should be deeply grieved to cause you the least sorrow, and unless I am forced to it by a power I must obey, I give you my word that, I will never consent to a marriage which is so painful to you.
Har. She is right. A foolish speech deserves a foolish answer. I beg your pardon, my love, for the impertinence of my son. He is a silly young fellow, who has not yet learnt the value of his own words.
Mar. I assure you that he has not at all offended me. I am thankful, on the contrary, that he has spoken so openly. I care greatly for such a confession from him, and if he had spoken differently, I should feel much less esteem for him.
Har. It is very kind of you to excuse him thus. Time will make him wiser, and you will see that his feelings will change.
Cle. No, father, they will never change; and I earnestly beg of you, Madam, to believe me.
Har. Did ever anybody see such folly? He is becoming worse and worse.
Cle. Would you have me false to my inmost feelings?
Har. Again! Change your manners, if you please.
Cle. Very well, since you wish me to speak differently. Allow me, Madam, to take for a moment my father's place; and forgive me if I tell you that I never saw in the world anybody more charming than you are; that I can understand no happiness to equal that of pleasing you, and that to be your husband is a glory, a felicity, I should prefer to the destinies of the greatest princes upon earth. Yes, Madam, to possess you is, in my mind, to possess the best of all treasures; to obtain you is all my ambition. There is nothing I would not do for so precious a conquest, and the most powerful obstacles …
Har. Gently, gently, my son, if you please.
Cle. These are complimentary words which I speak to her in your name.
Har. Bless me! I have a tongue of my own to explain my feelings, and I really don't care for such an advocate as you … Here, bring us some chairs.
Fro. No; I think it is better for us to go at once to the fair, in order to be back earlier, and have plenty of time for talking.
Har. (to Brindavoine). Have the carriage ready at once.
SCENE XII. – HARPAGON, MARIANNE, ÉLISE, CLÉANTE, VALÈRE, FROSINE
Har. (to Marianne). I hope you will excuse me, my dear, but I forgot to order some refreshments for you, before you went out.
Cle. I have thought of it, father, and have ordered to be brought in here some baskets of China oranges, sweet citrons, and preserves, which I sent for in your name.
Har. (aside, to Valère). Valère!
Val. (aside, to Harpagon). He has lost his senses!
Cle. You are afraid, father, that it will not be enough? I hope, Madam, that you will have the kindness to excuse it.
Mar. It was by no means necessary.
Cle. Did you ever see, Madam, a more brilliant diamond than the one my father has upon his finger?
Mar. It certainly sparkles very much.
Cle. (taking the diamond off his father's finger). You must see it near.
Mar. It is a beautiful one; it possesses great lustre.
Cle. (steps before Marianne, who wants to restore it). No, Madam, it is in hands too beautiful; it is a present my father gives you.
Har. I?
Cle. Is it not true, father, that you wish her to keep it for your sake?
Har. (aside, to his son). What?
Cle. (to Marianne). A strange question indeed! He is making me signs that I am to force you to accept it.
Mar. I would not …
Cle. (to Marianne). I beg of you… He would not take it back.
Har. (aside). I am bursting with rage!
Mar. It would be …
Cle. (still hindering Marianne from returning it). No; I tell you, you will offend him.
Mar. Pray …
Cle. By no means.
Har. (aside). Plague take …
Cle. He is perfectly shocked at your refusal.
Har. (aside, to his son). Ah! traitor!
Cle. (to Marianne). You see he is in despair.
Har. (aside, to his son, threatening him). You villain!
Cle. Really, father, it is not my fault. I do all I can to persuade her to accept it; but she is obstinate.
Har. (in a rage, aside to his son). Rascal!
Cle. You are the cause, Madam, of my father scolding me.
Har. (aside, with the same looks). Scoundrel!
Cle. (to Marianne). You will make him ill; for goodness' sake, hesitate no longer.
Fro. (to Marianne). Why so much ceremony? Keep the ring, since the gentleman wishes you to.
Mar. (to Harpagon). I will keep it now, Sir, in order not to make you angry, and I shall take another opportunity of returning it to you.
SCENE XIII. – HARPAGON, MARIANNE, ÉLISE, VALÈRE, FROSINE, BRINDAVOINE
Brind. Sir, there is a gentleman here who wants to speak to you.
Har. Tell him that I am engaged, and that I cannot see him to-day.
Brind. He says he has some money for you.
Har. (to Marianne). Pray, excuse me; I will come back directly.
SCENE XIV. – HARPAGON, MARIANNE, ÉLISE, CLÉANTE, FROSINE, LA MERLUCHE
La Mer. (comes in running, and throws Harpagon down). Sir …
Har. Oh! he has killed me.
Cle. What's the matter, father? Have you hurt yourself?
Har. The wretch must have been bribed by some of my debtors to break my neck.
Val. (to Harpagon). There is nothing serious.
La Mer. (to Harpagon). I beg your pardon, Sir; I thought I had better run fast to tell you…
Har. What?
La Mer. That your two horses have lost their shoes.
Har. Take them quickly to the smith.
Cle. In the meantime, father, I will do the honours of the house for you, and take this lady into the garden, where lunch will be brought.
SCENE XV. – HARPAGON, VALÈRE
Har. Valère, look after all this; and take care, I beseech you, to save as much of it as you can, so that we may send it back to the tradesman again.
Val. I will.
Har. (alone). Miscreant! do you mean to ruin me?
ACT IV
SCENE I. – CLÉANTE, MARIANNE, ÉLISE, FROSINE
Cle. Let us come in here; we shall be much better. There is no one about us that we need be afraid of, and we can speak openly.
Eli. Yes, Madam, my brother has told me of the love he has for you. I know what sorrow and anxiety such trials as these may cause, and I assure you that I have the greatest sympathy for you.
Mar. I feel it a great comfort in my trouble to have the sympathy of a person like you, and I entreat you, Madam, ever to retain for me a friendship so capable of softening the cruelty of my fate.
Fro. You really are both very unfortunate not to have told me of all this before. I might certainly have warded off the blow, and not have carried things so far.
Cle. What could I do? It is my evil destiny which has willed it so. But you, fair Marianne, what have you resolved to do? What resolution have you taken?
Mar. Alas! Is it in my power to take any resolution? And, dependent as I am, can I do anything else except form wishes?
Cle. No other support for me in your heart? Nothing but mere wishes? No pitying energy? No kindly relief? No active affection?
Mar. What am I to say to you? Put yourself in my place, and judge what I can possibly do. Advise me, dispose of me, I trust myself entirely to you, for I am sure that you will never ask of me anything but what is modest and seemly.
Cle. Alas! to what do you reduce me when you wish me to be guided entirely by feelings of strict duty and of scrupulous propriety.
Mar. But what would you have me do? Even if I were, for you, to divest myself of the many scruples which our sex imposes on us, I have too much regard for my mother, who has brought me up with great tenderness, for me to give her any cause of sorrow. Do all you can with her. Strive to win her. I give you leave to say and do all you wish; and if anything depends upon her knowing the true state of my feelings, by all means tell her what they are; indeed I will do it myself if necessary.
Cle. Frosine, dear Frosine, will you not help us?
Fro. Indeed, I should like to do so, as you know. I am not naturally unkind. Heaven has not given me a heart of flint, and I feel but too ready to help when I see young people loving each other in all earnestness and honesty. What can we do in this case?
Cle. Try and think a little.
Mar. Advise us.
Eli. Invent something to undo what you have done.
Fro. Rather a difficult piece of business. (To Marianne) As far as your mother is concerned, she is not altogether unreasonable and we might succeed in making her give to the son the gift she reserved for the father. (To Cléante) But the most disheartening part of it all is that your father is your father.
Cle. Yes, so it is.
Fro. I mean that he will bear malice if he sees that he is refused, and he will be in no way disposed afterwards to give his consent to your marriage. It would be well if the refusal could be made to come from him, and you ought to try by some means or other to make him dislike you, Marianne.
Cle. You are quite right.
Fro. Yes, right enough, no doubt. That is what ought to be done; but how in the world are we to set about it? Wait a moment. Suppose we had a somewhat elderly woman with a little of the ability which I possess, and able sufficiently well to represent a lady of rank, by means of a retinue made up in haste, and of some whimsical title of a marchioness or viscountess, whom we would suppose to come from Lower Brittany. I should have enough power over your father to persuade him that she is a rich woman, in possession, besides her houses, of a hundred thousand crowns in ready money; that she is deeply in love with him, and that she would marry him at any cost, were she even to give him all her money by the marriage contract. I have no doubt he would listen to the proposal. For certainly he loves you very much, my dear, but he loves money still better. When once he has consented to your marriage, it does not signify much how he finds out the true state of affairs about our marchioness.
Cle. All that is very well made up.
Fro. Leave it to me; I just remember one of my friends who will do beautifully.
Cle. Depend on my gratitude, Frosine, if you succeed. But, dear Marianne, let us begin, I beg of you, by gaining over your mother; it would be a great deal accomplished if this marriage were once broken off. Make use, I beseech you, of all the power that her tenderness for you gives you over her. Display without hesitation those eloquent graces, those all-powerful charms, with which Heaven has endowed your eyes and lips; forget not, I beseech you, those sweet persuasions, those tender entreaties, those loving caresses to which, I feel, nothing could be refused.
Mar. I will do all I can, and will forget nothing.