SCENE IV.--SGANARELLE, _alone_.
Oh, they are all well suited to one another! What an admirable family. A foolish old man with a worn-out body who plays the fop; a girl-mistress and a thorough coquette; impudent servants;--no, wisdom itself could not succeed, but would exhaust sense and reason, trying to amend a household like this. By such a.s.sociations, Isabella might lose those principles of honour which she learned amongst us; to prevent it, I shall presently send her back again to my cabbages and turkeys.
SCENE V.--VALeRE, SGANARELLE, ERGASTE.
VAL. (_Behind_). Ergaste, that is he, the Argus whom I hate, the stern guardian of her whom I adore.
SGAN. (_Thinking himself alone_). In short, is there not something wonderful in the corruption of manners now-a-days?
VAL. I should like to address him, if I can get a chance, and try to strike up an acquaintance with him.
SGAN. (_Thinking himself alone_). Instead of seeing that severity prevail which so admirably formed virtue in other days, uncontrolled and imperious youth here-about a.s.sumes... (_Valere bows to Sganarelle from a distance_).
VAL. He does not see that we bow to him.
ERG. Perhaps his blind eye is on this side. Let us cross to the right.
SGAN. I must go away from this place. Life in town only produces in me...
VAL. (_Gradually approaching_). I must try to get an introduction.
SGAN. (_Hearing a noise_). Ha! I thought some one spoke...
(_Thinking himself alone_). In the country, thank Heaven, the fashionable follies do not offend my eyes.
ERG. (_To Valere_). Speak to him.
SGAN. What is it?... my ears tingle... There, all the recreations of our girls are but... (_He perceives Valere bowing to him_). Do you bow to me?
ERG. (_To Valere_). Go up to him.
SGAN. (_Not attending to Valere_). Thither no c.o.xcomb comes.
(_Valere again bows to him_). What the deuce!... (_He turns and sees Ergaste bowing on the other side_). Another? What a great many bows!
VAL. Sir, my accosting you disturbs you, I fear?
SGAN. That may be.
VAL. But yet the honour of your acquaintance is so great a happiness, so exquisite a pleasure, that I had a great desire to pay my respects to you.
SGAN. Well.
VAL. And to come and a.s.sure you, without any deceit, that I am wholly at your service.
SGAN. I believe it.
VAL. I have the advantage of being one of your neighbours, for which I thank my lucky fate.
SGAN. That is all right.
VAL. But, sir. do you know the news going the round at Court, and thought to be reliable?
SGAN. What does it matter to me?
VAL. True; but we may sometimes be anxious to hear it? Shall you go and see the magnificent preparations for the birth of our Dauphin, sir?
[Footnote: The Dauphin, the son of Louis XIV. was born at Fontainebleau, on the 1st of November, 1661; _The School for Husbands_ was first acted on the 24th of June of the same year; hence Moliere ventures to prophesy about the Dauphin"s birth.]
SGAN. If I feel inclined.
VAL. Confess that Paris affords us a hundred delightful pleasures which are not to be found elsewhere. The provinces are a desert in comparison.
How do you pa.s.s your time?
SGAN. On my own business.
VAL. The mind demands relaxation, and occasionally gives way, by too close attention to serious occupations. What do you do in the evening before going to bed?
SGAN. What I please.
VAL. Doubtless no one could speak better. The answer is just, and it seems to be common sense to resolve never to do what does not please us.
If I did not think you were too much occupied, I would drop in on you sometimes after supper.
SGAN. Your servant.
SCENE VI.--VALeRE, ERGASTE.
VAL. What do you think of that eccentric fool?
ERG. His answers are abrupt and his reception is churlish.
VAL. Ah! I am in a rage.
ERG. What for?
VAL. Why am I in a rage? To see her I love in the power of a savage, a watchful dragon, whose severity will not permit her to enjoy a single moment of liberty.
ERG. That is just what is in your favour. Your love ought to expect a great deal from these circ.u.mstances. Know, for your encouragement, that a woman watched is half-won, and that the gloomy ill-temper of husbands and fathers has always promoted the affairs of the gallant. I intrigue very little; for that is not one of my accomplishments. I do not pretend to be a gallant; but I have served a score of such sportsmen, who often used to tell me that it was their greatest delight to meet with churlish husbands, who never come home without scolding,--downright brutes, who, without rhyme or reason, criticise the conduct of their wives in everything, and, proudly a.s.suming the authority of a husband, quarrel with them before the eyes of their admirers. "One knows," they would say, "how to take advantage of this. The lady"s indignation at this kind of outrage, on the one hand, and the considerate compa.s.sion of the lover, on the other, afford an opportunity for pushing matters far enough." In a word, the surliness of Isabella"s guardian is a circ.u.mstance sufficiently favourable for you.