SGANARELLE
A word with you, if you don’t mind.
VALÈRE
May I serve you somehow? I should be proud to do—
SGANARELLE
No, but there’s something I can do for you,
And that is why I’ve sought your house, and found you.
VALÈRE
You’ve come to my house, sir!
SGANARELLE
Yes. Need that astound you?
VALÈRE
It does indeed, and I’m in ecstasies
At this great honor—
SGANARELLE
Forget the honor, please.
VALÈRE
Won’t you come in?
SGANARELLE
I see no need of that.
VALÈRE
I beg you, sir.
SGANARELLE
I’ll stay where I am; that’s flat.
VALÈRE
I’d hear you better if we went within.
SGANARELLE
I shall not budge.
VALÈRE
Ah well, I must give in.
(To Ergaste:)
Our guest won’t enter, but he must have a seat.
Quick, bring a chair.
SGANARELLE
I’ll talk to you on my feet.
VALÈRE
But how can I let you—
SGANARELLE
What infernal stalling!
VALÈRE
Such incivility would be appalling.
SGANARELLE
What in the world is more uncivil, pray,
Than not to hear what people want to say?
VALÈRE
I’ll do as you wish, then.
SGANARELLE
That’s a splendid notion.
(They go to great lengths of ceremony, in putting on their hats.)
These courtesies are a waste of time and motion.
Now, will you listen?
VALÈRE
I shall, sir, with delight.
SGANARELLE
Do you know that I’m the guardian of a quite
Young girl, who’s rather pretty; that we dwell
Nearby, and that her name is Isabelle?
VALÈRE
Yes.
SGANARELLE
I won’t say, then, what you know already.
Do you know, likewise, that her charms have led me
To feelings other than a guardian’s pride,
And that her destiny is to be my bride?
VALÈRE
No.
SGANARELLE
Then I tell you so. And I bid you cease
Your warm advances, and leave the girl in peace.
VALÈRE
I, sir?
SGANARELLE
You. Don’t deny that you pursue her.
VALÈRE
Who told you, then, of my devotion to her?
SGANARELLE
People whose testimony one can credit.
VALÈRE
But who?
SGANARELLE
She herself.
VALÈRE
She?
SGANARELLE
She. That’s twice I’ve said it.
That good young woman, who, since she was small,
Has loved me, came just now and told me all,
And charged me, furthermore, to let you know
That when, of late, you’ve dogged her footsteps so,
Her heart, which your attentions scandalize,
Read all too well the language of your eyes;
That what you feel for her is all too clear,
And that ’twill be no use to persevere
In shows of passion which can only be
Offensive to a heart that’s pledged to me.
VALÈRE
You say that she, of her own accord, besought you—
SGANARELLE
Yes, to convey the message that I’ve brought you.
She adds that, having plumbed your heart, she would
Have made herself much sooner understood,
If she’d been able, through some messenger,
To express the feelings which arose in her;
At last, in her extreme frustration, she
Had no recourse but to make use of me,
In order to inform you, as I’ve said,
That I’m the man she loves and means to wed,
That the sheep’s eyes you’ve made were made in vain,
And that, if you have any sort of brain,
You’ll take your passion elsewhere. For now, farewell.
I’ve told you everything I had to tell.
VALÈRE
Good heavens, Ergaste, what do you make of this?
SGANARELLE
(Sotto voce, moving away:)
How stunned he looks!
ERGASTE
(Sotto voce, to Valère:)
It’s my analysis
That you need not be troubled for a minute.
This message has a secret meaning in it,
And wasn’t sent by someone who desires
To terminate the love which she inspires.
SGANARELLE
(Aside:)
He takes it well.
VALÈRE
(Sotto voce, to Ergaste:)
You think her words implied—?
ERGASTE
(Sotto voce:)
Yes . . . But he’s watching us; let’s go inside.
SGANARELLE
(Alone:)
My, what confusion’s written in his visage!
Clearly, he didn’t expect so harsh a message.
Let me call Isabelle. In her we find
The effect of sound instruction on the mind.
So perfect is her virtue that if a man
Dares look at her, she puts him under ban.
Scene 3
Isabelle, Sganarelle.
ISABELLE
(Sotto voce, as she enters:)
I fear that, in his passion, my lover may
Not fathom what my message meant to say;
And so I must, since I’m a captive here,
Risk yet another to make my meaning clear.
SGANARELLE
Well, I am back.
ISABELLE
What happened?
SGANARELLE
Your words quite dashed
Your lover’s spirits; he’s utterly abashed.
He sought to deny his passion, but once he knew
That you had sent me, and that I spoke for you,
The fellow stood there speechless and nonplussed.
He won’t be troubling us again, I trust.
ISABELLE
Ah, won’t he, though! I greatly fear he will,
And that he’ll give us much more trouble still.
SGANARELLE
What grounds do you have for such a premonition?
ISABELLE
You’d hardly left the house upon your mission
When I went to the window for a breath of air
And saw a young man on that corner there,
Who, much to my amazement, shortly came
And greeted me in my admirer’s name,
And then, with further impudence, tossed into
My room a box which held a billet-doux.
I would have thrown it back to him, but his feet
Had far too quickly borne him up the street,
Leaving me full of outrage and distress.
SGANARELLE
Just think of it! Such guile, such craftiness!
ISABELLE
Duty requires that I send back again
Both box and letter to this cursèd swain,
But who’s to run the errand I cannot say.
I dare not ask you—
SGANARELLE
My sweet, of course you may.
You prove your love of me by what you ask,
And I accept with joy this little task:
I can’t express my pleasure.
&nbs
p; ISABELLE
Then take this, do.
SGANARELLE
Let’s see, now, what he’s dared to say to you.
ISABELLE
Oh, heavens! Don’t break the seal.
SGANARELLE
Not open it? Why?
ISABELLE
He’d think ’twas I it had been opened by.
A decent girl should never read the tender
Communications which young men may send her:
To show such curiosity betrays
A secret appetite for flattering praise.
I think it right, then, that this missive be
Returned unopened, and most speedily,
So that Valère will learn this very day
How much I scorn him, and will without delay
Discard the hopes which he’s invested in me,
And make no more absurd attempts to win me.
SGANARELLE
Her point’s well taken; this young girl reasons rightly.
My dear, your virtue and good sense delight me:
My teachings have borne fruit, I see with pride,
And you are worthy indeed to be my bride.
ISABELLE
Still, I won’t oppose your wishes; I wouldn’t dare to.
You have the letter; open it, if you care to.
SGANARELLE
No, no, your reasons cannot be contested.
I’ll go and do this errand you’ve requested,
Make a brief call nearby—ten minutes at best—
And then return to set your mind at rest.
Scene 4
Sganarelle, Ergaste.
SGANARELLE
(Alone:)
It floods my soul with rapture to have found
This girl so utterly discreet and sound!
I have in my house a pearl of purest honor!
She treats a love-glance as a slur upon her!
A billet-doux does nothing but offend her!
By my hand, she returns it to the sender!
I wonder if my brother’s ward, in such
A situation, would have done as much.
This proves, by Heaven, that girls are what we make them.
Ho, there!
(He knocks on Valère’s door.)
ERGASTE
Yes?
SGANARELLE
These are your master’s property; take them.
Tell him that no more letters need be sent
In small gold boxes; it’s most impertinent,
And he has greatly angered Isabelle.
See, it’s not even been opened: He can tell
By that how low is her regard for him,
And that the prospects for his love are dim.
Scene 5
Valère, Ergaste.
VALÈRE
What were you given by that surly brute?
ERGASTE
A letter, sir, and a gold box to boot.
He claims that you sent Isabelle this letter,
Which, he declares, has mightily upset her.
She’s sent it back unopened. Come, read it, sir.
Let’s see how accurate my conjectures were.
VALÈRE
(Reading:)
“This letter will doubtless surprise you, and both in my decision to write it, and in the manner of its delivery, I must seem very rash indeed; but I find myself in such a situation that I cannot observe the proprieties any longer. My just aversion to a marriage with which I am threatened in six days’ time, has made me ready to dare anything; and in my determination to escape that bondage by whatever means, I have thought it better to turn to you than to embrace Despair. Still, you must not think that you owe everything to my afflicted state; it is not the predicament in which I find myself that has given rise to my feelings for you; but it hastens my avowal of them, and causes me to overstep the bounds of decorum prescribed for my sex. Whether I am soon to be yours is now entirely up to you; I wait only for a declaration of your heart’s intentions before acquainting you with the resolution I have taken; but do be aware that time is pressing, and that two hearts attuned by love should need but few words to come to an understanding.”
ERGASTE
Well, sir! Was this a clever ruse, or not?
For a young girl, she lays a brilliant plot!
Love is a game, it seems, that she can play.
VALÈRE
Oh, she’s adorable in every way !
This evidence of her wit and warmth of heart
Doubles my love for her, which had its start
When first her beauty caused my head to swim . . .
ERGASTE
Here comes our dupe; think what you’ll say to him.
Scene 6
Sganarelle, Valère, Ergaste.
SGANARELLE
(Thinking himself alone:)
Ah, thrice and four times may the heavens bless
This law which bans extravagance in dress!
No more will husbands’ troubles be so great,
And women’s frivolous cravings will abate.
Oh, how I thank the king for such decrees,
And how I wish that, for men’s further ease
Of mind, he’d ban not only lace and frills
But coquetry and its attendant ills!
I’ve bought this edict so that Isabelle
May read it aloud to me, and learn it well.
Some evening, when her tasks are all complete,
We’ll have it for an after-supper treat.
(Perceiving Valère:)
Well, do you plan now, Mister Goldilocks,
To send more love notes in that gilded box?
You thought you’d found a young coquette who’d be
Fond of intrigue and honeyed flattery,
But what a chill response your offerings got!
Believe me, lad, you waste your powder and shot
She’s a sensible girl; it’s me she loves; why aim
At one who scorns you? Go hunt for easier game.
VALÈRE
Indeed, your merits, which all the world admires,
Are a hopeless barrier, sir, to my desires.
Much as I love her, it’s folly on my part
To vie with you for Isabelle’s hand and heart.
SGANARELLE
Quite right, it’s folly.
VALÈRE
I wouldn’t, furthermore,
Have yielded to the charms which I adore,
Had I foreseen that I was doomed to meet,
In you, a rival no man could defeat.
SGANARELLE
I quite believe you.
VALÈRE
I now can hope no longer,
And freely grant, sir, that your claim’s the stronger.
SGANARELLE
Well done.
VALÈRE
In this, I merely do what’s right,
For, sir, your many virtues shine so bright
That I’d do wrong to take a grudging view
Of Isabelle’s great tenderness toward you.
SGANARELLE
Of course.
VALÈRE
Your victory, then, I don’t contest.
But, sir, I pray you (it’s the sole request
Of a poor lover whom you have overthrown,
And whose great pains are due to you alone),
I pray you, sir, to say to Isabelle
That in these months I’ve spent beneath her spell
My love’s been pure, and never entertained
A thought by which her honor might be pained.
SGANARELLE
Agreed.
VALÈRE
That the one thing I desired of life
Was that I might obtain her for my wife,
Till fate obstructed my desire, revealing
That she was bound to you by tenderest feeling.
SGANARELLE
Good. Good.
VALÈRE
That, whatever happens, she must not
>
Think that her charms will ever be forgot;
That, let the heavens treat me as they may,
My fate’s to love her till my dying day;
And that your merits, of which I stand in awe,
Are the sole reason why I now withdraw.
SGANARELLE
Well said; I’ll go at once and give her this
Message, which she will scarcely take amiss.
But if I may advise you, do your best