The Blunderer. Жан-Батист Мольер

How happy you make me!

      MASC. The poor thing is nearly dying with love. "Oh, my dearest Anselmo," she cries every minute, "when shall marriage unite our two hearts? When will you vouchsafe to extinguish my flames?"

      ANS. But why has she hitherto concealed this from me? Girls, in troth, are great dissemblers! Mascarille, what do you say, really? Though in years, yet I look still well enough to please the eye.

      MASC. Yes, truly, that face of yours is still very passable; if it is not of the handsomest in the world, it is very agreeable. [Footnote: The original has a play on words which cannot be translated, as, ce visage est encore fort mettable…s'il n'est pas des plus beaux, il est des agreables; which two last words, according to pronunciation, can also mean disagreeable. This has been often imitated in French. After the Legion of Honour was instituted in France in 1804, some of the wits of the time asked the Imperialists: etes-vous des honores?]

      ANS. So that…

      MASC. (Endeavouring to take the purse). So that she dotes on you; and regards you no longer…

      ANS. What?

      MASC. But as a husband: and fully intends…

      ANS. And fully intends…?

      MASC. And fully intends, whatever may happen, to steal your purse…

      ANS. To steal…?

      MASC. (Taking the purse, and letting it fall to the ground). To steal a kiss from your mouth.

      [Footnote: There is here again, in the original, a play on the words bourse, purse, and bouche, mouth, which cannot be rendered in English.]

      ANS. Ah! I understand you. Come hither! The next time you see her, be sure to say as many fine things of me as possible.

      MASC. Let me alone.

      ANS. Farewell.

      MASC. May Heaven guide you!

      ANS. (Returning). Hold! I really should have committed a strange piece of folly; and you might justly have accused me of neglect. I engage you to assist me in serving my passion. You bring good tidings, and I do not give you the smallest present to reward your zeal. Here, be sure to remember…

      MASC. O, pray, don't.

      [Footnote: Compare in Shakspeare's Winter's Tale Autolyeus' answer to Camillo (Act IV., Scene 3), who gives him money, "I am a poor fellow, sir, … I cannot with conscience take it."]

      ANS. Permit me…

      MASC. I won't, indeed: I do not act thus for the sake of money.

      ANS. I know you do not. But however…

      MASC. No, Anselmo, I will not. I am a man of honour; this offends me.

      ANS. Farewell then, Mascarille.

      MASC. (Aside). How long-winded he is!

      ANS. (Coming back). I wish you to carry a present to the fair object of my desires. I will give you some money to buy her a ring, or any other trifle, as you may think will please her most.

      MASC. No, there is no need of your money; without troubling yourself, I will make her a present; a fashionable ring has been left in my hands, which you may pay for afterwards, if it fits her.

      ANS. Be it so; give it her in my name; but above all, manage matters in such a manner that she may still desire to make me her own.

      SCENE VII. – LELIO, ANSELMO, MASCARILLE

      LEL. (Taking up the purse). Whose purse is this?

      [Footnote: During the whole of the preceding scene Mascarille has quietly kicked the purse away, so as to be out of sight of Anselmo, intending to pick it up when the latter has gone.]

      ANS. Oh Heavens! I dropt it, and might have afterwards believed somebody had picked my pocket. I am very much obliged to you for your kindness, which saves me a great deal of vexation, and restores me my money. I shall go home this minute and get rid of it.

      SCENE VIII. – LELIO, MASCARILLE

      MASC. Od's death! You have been very obliging, very much so.

      LEL. Upon my word! if it had not been for me he would have lost his money.

      MASC. Certainly, you do wonders, and show to-day a most exquisite judgment and supreme good fortune. We shall prosper greatly; go on as you have begun.

      LEL. What is the matter now? What have I done?

      MASC. To speak plainly as you wish me to do, and as I ought, you have acted like a fool. You know very well that your father leaves you without money; that a formidable rival follows us closely; yet for all this, when to oblige you I venture on a trick of which I take all the shame and danger upon myself…

      LEL. What? was this…?

      MASC. Yes, ninny; it was to release the captive that I was getting the money, whereof your officiousness took care to deprive us.

      LEL. If that is the case, I am in the wrong. But who could have imagined it?

      MASC. It really required a great deal of discernment.

      LEL. You should have made some signs to warn me of what was going on.

      MASC. Yes, indeed; I ought to have eyes in my back. By Jove, be quiet, and let us hear no more of your nonsensical excuses. Another, after all this, would perhaps abandon everything; but I have planned just now a master-stroke, which I will immediately put into execution, on condition that if…

      [Footnote: The play is supposed to be in Sicily; hence Pagan oaths are not out of place. Even at the present time Italians say, per Jove! per Bacco!]

      LEL. No, I promise you henceforth not to interfere either in word or deed.

      MASC. Go away, then, the very sight of you kindles my wrath.

      LEL. Above all, don't delay, for fear that in this business…

      MASC. Once more, I tell you, begone! I will set about it. (Exit Lelio). Let us manage this well; it will be a most exquisite piece of roguery; if it succeeds, as I think it must. We'll try…But here comes the very man I want.

      SCENE IX. – PANDOLPHUS, MASCARILLE

      PAND. Mascarille!

      MASC. Sir?

      PAND. To tell you the truth, I am very dissatisfied with my son.

      MASC. With my master? You are not the only one who complains of him. His bad conduct which has grown unbearable in everything, puts me each moment out of patience.

      PAND. I thought, however, you and he understood one another pretty well.

      MASC. I? Believe it not, sir. I am always trying to put him in mind of his duty: we are perpetually at daggers drawn. Just now we had a quarrel again about his engagement with Hippolyta, which, I find he is very averse to. By a most disgraceful refusal he violates all the respect due to a father.

      PAND. A quarrel?

      MASC. Yes, a quarrel, and a desperate one too.

      PAND. I was very much deceived then, for I thought you supported him in all he did.

      MASC. I? See what this world is come to! How is innocence always oppressed! If you knew but my integrity, you would give me the additional salary of a tutor, whereas I am only paid as his servant. Yes, you yourself could not say more to him than I do in order to make him behave better. "For goodness' sake, sir," I say to him very often, "cease to be driven hither and thither with every wind that blows, – reform; look what a worthy father Heaven has given you, what a reputation he has. Forbear to stab him thus to the heart, and live, as he does, as a man of honour."

      PAND. That was well said; and what answer could he make to this?