CLE. The subject of the scene is as follows. A shepherd was paying every attention to the beauties of a play, when he was disturbed by a noise close to him, and on turning round he saw a scoundrel who, with insolent language, was annoying a young shepherdess. He immediately espoused the cause of a s.e.x to which all men owe homage; and after having chastised the brute for his insolence, he came near the shepherdess to comfort her. He sees a young girl with the most beautiful eyes he has ever beheld, who is shedding tears which he thinks the most precious in the world. Alas! says he to himself, can any one be capable of insulting such charms? Where is the unfeeling wretch, the barbarous man to be found who will not feel touched by such tears? He endeavours to stop those beautiful tears, and the lovely shepherdess takes the opportunity of thanking him for the slight service he has rendered her. But she does it in a manner so touching, so tender, and so pa.s.sionate that the shepherd cannot resist it, and each word, each look is a burning shaft which penetrates his heart. Is there anything in the world worthy of such thanks? and what will not one do, what service and what danger will not one be delighted to run to attract upon oneself even for a moment the touching sweetness of so grateful a heart? The whole play was acted without his paying any more attention to it; yet he complains that it was too short, since the end separates him from his lovely shepherdess. From that moment, from that first sight, he carries away with him a love which has the strength of a pa.s.sion of many years. He now feels all the pangs of absence, and is tormented in no longer seeing what he beheld for so short a time. He tries every means to meet again with a sight so dear to him, and the remembrance of which pursues him day and night. But the great watch which is kept over his shepherdess deprives him of all the power of doing so. The violence of his pa.s.sion urges him to ask in marriage the adorable beauty without whom he can no longer live, and he obtains from her the permission of doing so, by means of a note that he has succeeded in sending to her.
But he is told in the meantime that the father of her whom he loves has decided upon marrying her to another, and that everything is being got ready to celebrate the wedding. Judge what a cruel wound for the heart of that poor shepherd! Behold him suffering from this mortal blow; he cannot bear the dreadful idea of seeing her he loves in the arms of another; and in his despair he finds the means of introducing himself into the house of his shepherdess, in order to learn her feelings and to hear from her the fate he must expect. There he sees everything ready for what he fears; he sees the unworthy rival whom the caprice of a father opposes to the tenderness of his love; he sees that ridiculous rival triumphant near the lovely shepherdess, as if already a.s.sured of his conquest. Such a sight fills him with a wrath he can hardly master. He looks despairingly at her whom he adores, but the respect he has for her and the presence of her father prevent him from speaking except with his eyes. At last he breaks through all restraint, and the greatness of his love forces him to speak as follows.
(_He sings_.)
Phyllis, too sharp a pain you bid me bear; Break this stern silence, tell me what to fear; Disclose your thoughts, and bid them open lie To tell me if I live or die.
ANG.
The marriage preparations sadden me.
O"erwhelmed with sorrow, My eyes I lift to heaven; I strive to pray, Then gaze on you and sigh. No more I say.
CLE.
Tircis, who fain would woo, Tell him, Phyllis, is it true, Is he so blest by your sweet grace As in your heart to find a place?
ANG.
I may not hide it, in this dire extreme, Tircis, I own for you my love....
CLE.
O blessed words! am I indeed so blest?
Repeat them, Phyllis; set my doubts at rest.
ANG.
I love you, Tircis!
CLE.
Ah! Phyllis, once again.
ANG.
I love you, Tircis!
CLE.
Alas! I fain A hundred times would hearken to that strain.
ANG.
I love you! I love you!
Tircis, I love you!
CLE.
Ye kings and G.o.ds who, from your eternal seat, Behold the world of men beneath your feet, Can you possess a happiness more sweet?
My Phyllis! one dark haunting fear Our peaceful joy disturbs unsought; A rival may my homage share.
ANG.
Ah! worse than death is such a thought!
Its presence equal torment is To both, and mars my bliss.
CLE. Your father to his vow would subject you.
ANG. Ah! welcome death before I prove untrue.
ARG. And what does the father say to all that?
CLE. Nothing.
ARG. Then that father is a fool to put up with those silly things, without saying a word!
CLE. (_trying to go on singing_).
Ah! my love....
ARG. No; no; that will do. An opera like that is in very bad taste.
The shepherd Tircis is an impertinent fellow, and the shepherdess Phyllis an impudent girl to speak in that way in the presence of her father. (_To_ ANGeLIQUE) Show me that paper. Ah! ah! and where are the words that you have just sung? This is only the music.
CLE. Are you not aware, Sir, that the way of writing the words with the notes themselves has been lately discovered?
ARG. Has it? Good-bye for the present. We could have done very well without your impertinent opera.
CLE. I thought I should amuse you.
ARG. Foolish things do not amuse, Sir. Ah! here is my wife.
SCENE VII.--BeLINE, ARGAN, ANGeLIQUE, MR. DIAFOIRUS, T. DIAFOIRUS, TOINETTE.
ARG. My love, here is the son of Mr. Diafoirus.
T. DIA. Madam, it is with justice that heaven has given you the t.i.tle of stepmother, since we see in you steps....
BEL. Sir, I am delighted to have come here just in time to see you.
T. DIA. Since we see in you ... since we see in you.... Madam, you have interrupted me in the middle of my period, and have troubled my memory.
MR. DIA. Keep it for another time.
ARG. I wish, my dear, that you had been here just now.
TOI. Ah! Madam, how much you have lost by not being at the second father, the statue of Memnon, and the flower styled heliotrope.
ARG. Come, my daughter, shake hands with this gentleman, and pledge him your troth.
ANG. Father!
ARG. Well? What do you mean by "Father"?
ANG. I beseech you not to be in such a hurry; give us time to become acquainted with each other, and to see grow in us that sympathy so necessary to a perfect union.
T. DIA. As far as I am concerned, Madam, it is already full-grown within me, and there is no occasion for me to wait.
ANG. I am not so quick as you are, Sir, and I must confess that your merit has not yet made enough impression on my heart.
ARG. Oh! nonsense! There will be time enough for the impression to be made after you are married.