 Act I of Monsieur de Poursignac by Molière, translated by Charles Herron Wall. This is the LibriVox recording or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Persons represented. Monsieur de Poursignac, read by Thomas Peter. Oront, father of Julia, read by Alan Mapstone. Erast, lover to Julia, read by Leanne Yau. Sprygani, a Neapolitan adventurer, read by Larry Wilson. First physician, read by Todd. Second physician, read by Eva Davis. An apothecary, read by Frédéric Surger. Countryman, a peasant, read by Campbell Shelp. Countrywoman, a female peasant, read by Phon. First Swiss, read by Nima. Second Swiss, read by Phon. A police officer, read by Campbell Shelp. Julia, daughter to Oront. Read by Elsie Selwyn. Niren, an intriguing woman, supposed to come from Picardy, read by Sonia. Lucette, supposed to come from Gascony, read by Eva Davis. First lawyer, read by Campbell Shelp. Second lawyer, played by Major Toast. First man singer, read by Nima. Second man singer, played by Major Toast. Lady singer, read by Devorah Allen. Child one, read by Devorah Allen. Child two, played by Major Toast. Stage directions, read by Sandra Schmidt. The scene is in Paris. Act one, scene one. Erast, a lady singer, two men singers, several others performing on instruments, dancers. Erast to the musicians and dancers. Carry out the orders I've given you for the serenade. As for myself, I will withdraw, for I do not wish to be seen here. Scene two, a lady singer, two men singers, several others performing on instruments, dancers. Spread charming night, spread over every brow, The subtle scent of thy narcotic flower, And let no wakeful hearts keep vigil now, Save those enthralled by love's resistless power, More beautiful than day's most beauteous light, Thy silent shades were made for love's delight. Love is sweet when none our wills oppose, Than peaceful tastes our gentle hearts dispose, But tyrants reign who gave us birth in life. Ah, love is sweet when love is free from strife. All who strive against love must fall. Perfect love will conquer all. Let us love with an eternal ardour, Let parents frown and try in vain to cure, Absence, hardship, or cruel fortunes break, We'll only strengthen love when true and pure. First entry of the ballet, Dance of the two dancing masters. Second entry of the ballet, Dance of the two pages. Third entry of the ballet, Four spectators who quarreled during the dance, now dance, Sort in hand, fighting all the while. Fourth entry of the ballet, Two soldiers separate the combatants and dance with them. Scene 3 Julia Erast Nerine Oh, dear Eraste, take care that we are not discovered. I am so afraid of being seen with you. I would be lost after the command I have received to the contrary. I see nobody about. Julia to Nerine Just keep watch, Nerine, and be careful that nobody comes. Nerine going to the further end of the stage. Trust me for that, and say all you have to say to each other. Have you thought of anything to favour our plan, Eraste? And do you think that we shall succeed in breaking off that marriage which my father has taken into his head? We are at least doing all we can for it, And we have ready many schemes to bring such an absurd notion to naught. Nerine running towards Julia. I say, here is your father. Ah, let us separate quickly. No, no, don't go. I made a mistake. How absurd you are, Nerine, to give us such a fright. Yes, dear Julia. We have plenty of stratagems ready for the purpose. And in accordance with the permission you have given me, we will not hesitate to make use of every means. Do not ask me what it is we are going to do. You will have the fun of seeing it. And, as at a comedy, it will be nice for you to have the pleasure of being surprised without my letting you know beforehand what is going to take place. This is telling you that we have many schemes in hand for the occasion, and that our clever Nerine and the dexterous Spragani have undertaken to bring the affair to a successful issue. Yes, we have indeed. Is your father crazy to think of entangling you with his lawyer of Limoges, that must you, the poor Soniac, whom he has never seen in his life, and who comes by the coach to take you away before our very eyes? Or three or four thousand crowns, more or less, and that, too, upon the word of your uncle, to make him refuse a lover you like? Besides, are you made for a limousin? If he has taken it into his head to marry, why does he not take one of his own countrywomen, and let Christians be at peace? The very name of poor Soniac puts me in a frightful rage. Oh, I have boiled over with must you the poor Soniac. If it were only because of the name, I would do anything to prevent the match. No, you shall not be madame de poor Soniac. Poor Soniac. Was ever such a name heard of? No, I could never put up with poor Soniac, and we will abuse the man to such an extent and play him so many tricks that he will have to return to Limoges, Monsieur de poor Soniac. Here is economy apolitin, who will give us news. Scene four, Julia Erast Sprigani Nerin. Our man has just come, sir. I saw him at a place three leagues away from here where the coach stops, and I studied him for more than half an hour in the kitchen, where he went down to breakfast, and I know him now perfectly. As to his appearance, I will say nothing about it. You will see for yourselves what nature has done for him, and if his dress is not the very thing to set that off. But as for his understanding, I can tell you beforehand that it is amongst the dullest I have met with for a long time. We shall find in him a fit subject to work upon as we like. He is just the man to fall into all the traps laid for him. Is all that possible? Perfectly true, and I am skilled in the knowledge of men. Nerin pointing to Sprigani. This is a famous man, madam, and your affair could not be trusted to better hands. He is the hero of the age for the wonders he has performed. A man who, twenty times in his life, has generously braved the galleys to serve his friends, who at the peril of his arms and shoulders knows how to bring to a successful issue the most difficult enterprises, and who is, in short, banished from his country for I don't know how many honorable actions he has generously engaged in. I am ashamed to hear the praises with which you honour me, and I could most justly extol the marvellous things you did in your life. I could particularly speak of the glory you acquired when you cheated at play that young nobleman we brought to your house and won twelve thousand crowns from him, when you handsomely made that false contract which ruined a whole family, when with such greatness of soul you denied all knowledge of the deposit which had been entrusted to you, and so generously gave evidence which hung two innocent people. Ah, these are trifles not worth mentioning, and your praises make me blush. Ah, then I will spare your modesty. Let us leave that aside and speak of our business. To begin with, I will quickly rejoin our countrymen, while you on your side will see that all the other actors in the comedy are kept in readiness. And you, madam, pray remember your part, that in order to conceal our aim, the better, you art a fact to be quite perfectly delighted with your father's resolutions. If it only depends on that, things will be sure to succeed. But, dear Julia, if everything were to fail, I will declare my real inclinations to my father. And if he persists and has designed in spite of your inclinations? I will threaten to shut myself up in a convent. But if, notwithstanding all that, he wished to force you to this marriage? Why, what would you have me say? What do I want you to say? Yes. What is said when one loves truly? But what? That nothing shall force you. That in spite of all your father can do, you promise to be mine. Ah, mere raste, be satisfied with what I do now, and leave the future alone. Do not perplex me in my duty by speaking of sad expedience to which we may not be obliged to have recourse. Allow me to be led by the course of events. Well. Sir, here is our man. Be careful. Ah, what a guy. Scene 5. Monsieur de Poursognac, Sprigani. Monsieur de Poursognac, turning to the side he came from and speaking to the people who are following him. Well, what is it? What is the matter? What do you want? Deuce, take this stupid town and the people who live in it. Nobody can walk a step without meeting a lot of asses, staring and laughing like fools at one. You boobies, mind your business and let folk pass without grinning in their faces. Deuce, take me if I don't knock down the first man I see laughing. Sprigani, speaking to the same people. What are you about? What is the meaning of such conduct? What is it you want? Is it right to make fun like that of strangers who come here? Here is a man of sense at last. What matters and what is there to laugh at? Quite right. Is there anything ridiculous in this gentleman? I ask you. Is he not like other people? Am I crooked or hunchbacked? Learn to distinguish people. This gentleman's qualities call for your respect. Perfectly true. He is a person of quality. Yes, a gentleman from Limoges. A man of intelligence. Who has studied the law. He does you too much honour in coming to this town. I indeed. This gentleman has nothing in him that can make you laugh. Certainly not. And the first two laughs at him I will call to account. Sir, I am extremely obliged to you. I am sorry, sir, to see a person like you received after such a fashion. Your servant, sir. I saw you breakfasting this morning, sir, with the other passengers. And the grace with which you ate created in me at once a great friendship for you. And as I know that you have never been here before, and that you are a perfect stranger, I am glad I met you to offer you my services at your arrival. And to assist you among these people, who do not always behave to strangers of quality as they should. You are really very kind. I have told you already, the moment I saw you, I felt an inclination for you. I am greatly obliged to you. Your countenance pleased me. You do me much honour. I read honesty in it. I am your servant. Something amiable. Ah, ah. Graceful. Ah, ah. Sweet. Ah, ah. Majestic. Ah, ah. Frank. Ah, ah. And cordial. Ah, ah. Believe that I am entirely yours. I am greatly obliged to you. I speak from the bottom of my heart. I believe you. If I had the honour of being known to you, you would find that I am altogether sincere. I do not doubt it. An enemy to deceit. I feel sure of it. And that I am incapable of disguising my thoughts. It is exactly what I think. You look at my dress, which is not like that of other people, but I came originally from Naples at your service. And I always like to keep up the way of dressing as well as the sincerity of my country. You are quite right. For my part I was desirous of appearing in the court dress for the country. Truly it becomes you better than it does all our courtiers. Exactly what my tailor told me. The coat is suitable and rich. It will tell here among these people. You will go to the Louvre, no doubt. Yes, I must go and pay my court. The king will be charmed to see you. I believe so. Have you fixed upon rooms? No, I was going to look for some. I shall be very glad to go with you. I know all this city well. Oh, who is this? Do I see? What a happy meeting. Monsieur de Poissonniac. How delighted I am to see you. What? Anyone would think that you find it difficult to remember me? Sir, I am your servant. Is it possible that five or six years can have made you forget me? Do you not remember the best friend of the de Poissonniacs? Yes, yes. Aside to Spragani. Do take me if I know who he is. And there is not one of the de Poissonniacs of Limbogs that I do not know, from the greatest to the smallest. I visited only them during my stay there, and I had the honour of seeing you every day. The honour was mine, sir. You do not remember my face? Yes, yes. To Spragani. I don't know him a bit. You do not remember that I had the pleasure of drinking with you? I don't know how many times. Excuse me. To Spragani. I don't know anything about it. What is the name of that pastry cook who cooks such capital dinners? The Dijon. Just so. We used often to go there together to enjoy ourselves. How do you call that place where people go for a walk? The Cemetery of the Iran. Exactly. It is there I enjoyed so many happy hours of your pleasant talk. Don't you remember it all now? Pardon me. Ah, yes, I remember. To Spragani. Just take me if I do. Spragani, say to Monsieur de Poursognac. There are a hundred things like that which one is apt to forget altogether. Let us embrace, I pray, and renew our former friendship. Spragani, to Monsieur de Poursognac. This man seems to have a great affection for you. Tell me some news of all the family. How is that gentleman your... He who is such an honest man. My brother the Sheriff. Yes. He is as well as can be. I am delighted to hear it. And that good tempered man. You know, you're... My cousin the Assessor. Exactly. Always gay and hearty. It gives me much pleasure to hear it. And your uncle the... I have no uncle. But you had one in those days. No, only an aunt. Ah, it's what I meant. Your aunt. Madame... How is she? She died six months ago. Alas, poor women. She was so good too. We have also my nephew the Canon who almost died of the smallpox. What a pity if it had happened. Do you know him also? Indeed I do. A tall, handsome fellow. Not so very tall. No, but well shaped. Yes, yes. He's your nephew, isn't he? Yes. Son of your brother or your sister? True. A Canon of the Church of... How do you call it? St. Stephen. Just so. I don't know any other. Monsieur de Poursognac, tout sprigani. He knows all my relations. He knows you better than you think. You must have lived a long time in our town, I see. Two whole years. You were there then when our governor was Godfather to my cousin the Assessor's Child. To be sure, I was one of the first invited. The thing was well done. Very. The dinner was well got up. Yes, indeed. Then you must remember the quarrel I had with that gentleman from Perigot. Yes. He met with his match, eh? Ah! He slapped my face, but I played him back handsomely. Very handsomely. By the by, I shall not allow you to go to any other house but mine. I would not. Nonsense! I will not allow one of my best friends to go anywhere but to my house. It would be disturbed. No. Do you take it all? You shall stay with me. Sprigani, tout Monsieur de Poursognac. Since he will have it so, I advise you to accept. Where is your luggage? With my servant, where we stopped. Send some boys you to fetch it. No. I forbade him to let it go out of his sight for fear of swindlers. You did quite right. It is good to be cautious in this place. We always know a man of sense. I will accompany this gentleman and bring him back where you wish. Do so. I have a few orders to give, but you only need come to that house yonder. We will come back presently. Erast, tout Monsieur de Poursognac. I shall expect you with great impatience. Monsieur de Poursognac, tout Sprigani. I find an acquaintance when I little expect it to meet with one. He looks like an honest man. Exalant. Erast, alone. Ah. Monsieur de Poursognac, you will get it hot. Everything is ready, and I have only to give the word. So how? In there. Scene 7. Erast, an apothecary. I think so. That you are the doctor to whom somebody went to speak in my name. No, sir. I am not a doctor. Such an honour does not belong to me. I am only an unworthy apothecary at your service. Is the doctor at home then? Yes, he is in there. Trying to get rid quickly of some patience. I will tell him that you are here. No, you may not disturb him. I will wait till he is done. I have to entrust to his care a certain relation of mine he was told about today. He is attacked with a sort of madness that we should like to see cured before we marry him to anyone. I know. I know all about it. I was there when he was told of this affair. Upon my word, sir. Upon my word. You could not apply to a more skillful doctor. He is a man who understands medicine thoroughly as well as I do my ABC. And who, where you to die for it, would not abate one yotah of the rules of the ancients. Yes, he always follows the high road. The high road, sir. And doesn't spend his time finding up marriness. For all the gold in the world he would not cure anybody with other medicines than those prescribed by the faculty. He is quite right. A patient should not wish to be cured unless the faculty consents to it. It is not because we are great friends that I speak so of him. But it is a pleasure to be his patient. And I had rather die by his medicines than be cured with those of another. For whatever may happen, we know for certain that things are always in due order. And should we die under his care, our heirs have nothing to reproach us with. A great comfort to a dead man. Certainly. It is pleasant to have died according to rules. However, he is not one of those doctors who let a disease off. He is an expeditious man, expeditious. Sir, who likes to clear off his patience? And when there to die, the things is done in no time. There is, to be sure, nothing like going through the business quickly. Indeed, what is the use of handling of the matter and beating so long about the bush? One should know, offhand, the long and short of an illness. You are quite right. Why? It did me the honour of taking care of three of my children. They died in less than four days, whereas with another they would have lingered for more than three months. It is a blessing to have friends like these. Decidedly, I have still two children left, of whom he takes care as if they were his own. He attends them and physics them, has pleasant, without my interfering in the least. And very frequently, on my return from the city, I am quite surprised to find that they have been bled or purged by his direction. This is kind care indeed. Here it is! Here it is! Here it is coming! Scene 8. Erast, first physician, apothecary, countryman, countrywoman. Sir, he can hold out no longer. He says he feels the greatest pains imaginable in his head. The patient is a fool. For in the disease by which he is attacked it is not his head, according to Galen, but the spleen which must give pain. However this may be, sir, he has had for the last six months a laxity with it. Well, that's right. It is a sign that his body is clearing. I will go and see him in two or three days. But if he dies before, mind you to not forget to give me notice, for it is not proper that a doctor should go to visit a dead man. Countrywoman to physician. My father, sir, is getting worse and worse. It is no fault of mine. I sent him remedies. Why does he not get better? How many times has he been bled? Fifteen times, sir, in twenty days. Fifteen times? Yes. And he does not get better? No, sir. It is a sign that the seed of the malady is not in the blood. He must be purged as many times, to see if it is in the humours. And if this does not succeed, we will send him to the bath. This is the Buidiao of physics. Scene nine. Erast first physician, apothecary. Erast to the physician. It was I, sir, who sent to you a few days ago about a relation of mine, who is not quite right in his mind. And I want him to live in your house, as it would be more convenient for you to attend to him, and to prevent him from being seen by too many people. Yes, sir. I have got everything ready, and I will take the utmost care of him. Here he is. That is most fortunate, for I have with me just now an old physician, a friend of mine, with whom I should be glad to consult concerning this disorder. Scene ten. M. Deporsognac. Erast first physician, apothecary. Erast to M. Deporsognac. I am obliged to leave you a moment for a little affair which requires my presence. Showing the physician. But this person, in whose hands I leave you, will do for you all he possibly can. I am bound by my profession to do so, and it is enough that you should lay this duty upon me. M. Deporsognac, aside. It is a steward, no doubt. He must be a man of quality. First physician to Erast. Yes, sir. I assure you that I shall treat this gentleman methodically, and in strict accordance with the rules of our art. Indeed, I do not ask for so much ceremony, and I have not come here to trouble you so. Such a duty is a pleasure to me. Erast to first physician. Nevertheless, here are ten persolas beforehand, as an earnest of what I have promised you. No, if you please. I won't hear of your spending anything on my account, nor do I wish you to send for anything particular for me. Oh, pray, do not trouble yourself. It is not for that you imagine. I beg of you to treat me only as a friend. It is exactly what I mean to do. Aside to the physician. I particularly recommend you not to let him slip out of your hands. For at times he tries to escape. You need not fear. Erast to Monsieur de Poursognac. Pray, excuse the incivility I commit. A tone to mention it. You are really too kind. Scene 11. Monsieur de Poursognac, first physician, second physician, apothecary. It is a great honour to me to be chosen to do you a service. I am no servant. Here is a clever man, one of my brethren, with whom I will consult concerning the manner of our treating you. There is no need of so much ceremony, I tell you, I am easily satisfied. Bring some seats. Servants come in and place chairs. Monsieur de Poursognac, aside. These servants are rather dismal for a young man. Now, sir, take a seat, sir. The two physicians make Monsieur de Poursognac sit between them. Monsieur de Poursognac seated. You are a very humble servant. Each physician takes one of his hands and fills his pulse. What are you about? Do you eat well, sir? Yes, and drink still better. So much the worse. That great craving for cold and wet is a sign of the heat and aridity that is within. Do you sleep well? Yes, when I have made a hearty supper. Do you dream much? Now and then. Of what nature are your dreams? Of the nature of dreams. What the deuce is the meaning of this conversation? Have a little patience. We will reason upon your affair in your presence, and we will do it in the vulgar tongue so that you may understand better. What great reasoning is there wanted to eat a mouthful? Since it is a fact that we cannot cure any disease without first knowing it perfectly, and that we cannot know it perfectly without first establishing its exact nature and its true species by its diagnosis and prognosis, you will give me leave, you, my senior, to enter upon the consideration of the disease that is in question before we think of the therapeutics and the remedies that we must decide upon in order to affect a perfect cure. I say then, sir, if you will allow me, that our patient here present is unhappily attacked, affected, possessed, and disordered by that kind of madness which we properly name hypochondriac melancholy, a very trying kind of madness, and which requires no less than an escholopolis deeply versed in our art like you. You, I say, who have become gray and harness, as the saying hath it, and through whose hands so much business of all sorts has passed. I call it hypochondriac melancholy to distinguish it from the other two, for the celebrated Galen establishes and decides in a most learned manner, as is usual with him, that there are three species of the disease which we call melancholy, so called not only by the Latins, but also by the Greeks, which in this case is worthy of remark, the first which arises from a direct disease of the brain, the second which proceeds from the whole of the blood made and rendered atribilious, and the third termed hypochondriac, which is our case here, and which proceeds from some lower part of the abdomen and from the inferior regions, but particularly the spleen, the heat and inflammation whereof, sends up to the brain of our patients abundance of thick and foul full agonosities, of which the black and gross vapors cause deterioration to the functions of the principal faculty, and cause the disease by which he is manifestly accused and convicted. In proof of what I say, and as an incontestable diagnostic of it, you need only consider that great seriousness, that sadness, accompanied by signs of fearfulness and suspicion, pathognominic and particular symptoms of this disease, so well defined by the divine ancient hypocrites, that countenance, those red and staring eyes, that long beard, that habit of body, thin, amitiated, black, and hairy, signs denoting him greatly affected by the disease proceeding from a defect in the hypochondria, which disease by lapse of time, being naturalized, chronic, habitual, ingrained, and established within him, might well degenerate either into monomania, or into fethysis, or into apoplexy, or even into downright frenzy and raving. All this being taken for granted, since a disease well known is a disease half cured, or ignatinula escoratiomorobis, it will not be difficult for you to conclude what are the remedies needed by our patient. First of all, to remedy this obdurate plethora, and this luxuriant cacophony through the body, I opine that he should be freely pulmonomized, by which I mean that there should be frequent and abundant bleeding, first in the balsylic vein, and then in the cephalitic vein, and if the disease be obstinate, that even the vein of the forehead should be opened, and that the orifice be large, so that the thick blood may issue out, and at the same time, that he should be purged, de-obstructed, and evacuated by fit and suitable purgatives, that is, mycologous, and melancholous. And as the real source of all this mischief is either a foul and vectual humor, or a black and gross vapor, which obscures and poisons and contaminates the animal's spirits, it is proper afterwards that he should have a bath of pure and clean water, with abundance of way, to purify, by the water, the feckolency of the foul humor, and by the way to clarify the blackness of the vapor. But before all things, I think it desirable to enliven him by pleasant conversations, by vocal and instrumental music to which it will not be amiss to add dancers, that their movements, figures, and agility may stir up and awaken the sluggishness of his spirits, which occasions the thickness of his blood from whence the disease proceeds. These are the remedies I propose, to which may be added many better ones by you, sir, my master and senior, according to the experience, judgment, knowledge, and sufficiency that you have acquired in our art, and Dixie. Heaven forbid, sir, that it should enter my thoughts to add anything to what you have just been saying. You have discussed too well. I'm all the signs, symptoms, and causes of this gentleman's disease. The arguments you have used are so learned, and so delicate that it is impossible for him not to be mad and hypochondriacly and collic, or will he not, that he ought to become so, because of the beauty of the things you have spoken, and of the justness of your reasoning. Yes, sir. You have graphically depicted graphy stepping zeasty, everything that pertains to this disease. Nothing can be more learnedly, judiciously, and ingeniously conceived. Thought imagined than what you have delivered on the subject of this disease. Either as regards the diagnostic, the prognostic, or the therapeutic. And nothing remains for me to do, but to congratulate this gentleman upon falling into your hands, and to tell him that he is but too fortunate to be mad, in order to experience the gentle efficacy of the remedies you have so judiciously proposed. I approve them in total. Manibusse, pedibusse, descendo intum sententium. All I should like to add is to let all his bleedings and purgings be of an odd number, a numerodeus and party-golded, to take the way before the bath, and to make him a forehead-plaster, in the composition of which there should be salt. Salt is a symbol of wisdom, to whitewash the walls of his room, to dissipate the gloominess of his mind, albumess discrecitivum visis, and to give him a little injunction immediately to serve as a prelude and introduction to those judicious remedies, from which, if he is curable, he must receive relief. Heaven grant that these remedies, which are yours, sir, may succeed with the patient according to our wish. Gentlemen, I have been listening to you for the last hour. Are we acting a comedy here? No, sir. We are not acting a comedy. What does it all mean? What are you about with this gibberish and nonsense of yours? Insulting language. A diagnostic which was wanting for the conformation of his disease. This may turn to mania. Monsieur de Poursagnac, aside. With what kind of people have they left me here? He spits two or three times. Another diagnostic. Frequent expectation. Let us cease all this and go away. Another. Anxiety to move about. What is the meaning of all this business? What do you want with me? To cure you, according to the order we have received. Cure me? Yes. Sir Jeff, I am not ill. It is a bad sign when a patient does not feel his illness. I tell you that I am quite well. We know better than you how you are. We are physicians who see plainly into your constitution. If you are physicians, I have nothing to do with you. And I snub my fingers at all your physique. This man is madder than we thought. My father and mother would never have anything to do with the remedies. And they both died without the help of doctors. I do not wonder if they have begotten the son who is mad. To the second physician. Come, let us begin the cure. And through the exhilarating sweetness of harmony let us dulcify, lenify and pacify the acrimony of his spirits which, I see, are ready to be inflamed. Exhaunt. Scene 12. Monsieur de Poursagnac alone. What the devil is all this? Ah, the people of this place crazy. I never saw anything like it. And I don't understand it a bit. Scene 13. Monsieur de Poursagnac, two physicians in grotesque clothes. They all three at first sit down. The physicians rise up at different times to bow to Monsieur de Poursagnac who rises up as often to bow to them in return. Good day, good day, good day. Do not let yourself be killed. From the other side of the melancholy we will make you laugh with our harmonious singing. We are here for you. Good day, good day, good day. Good day, good day, good day. You'll not yourself a prey to Melancholy's way. We'll make you laugh, I trove, with songs harmonious gay. Unto us your cure is dear. For that alone we're here. Good day, good day, good day. Altro non elapazia. Che malenconia. Il malato non e desperato. Si vuo piliar un poco d'alegria. Altro non elapazia. Che malenconia. Not else is madness true, save melancholy blue. Nor lost is he, though sick he be, who sips of mirth the dew. Not else is madness true, save melancholy blue. Su cantate ballate ridete. E si familio volete. Quando sentite il deliro vecino. Piliate di alvino. E qualche volta un poco di tabac. Allegremmente mor su por sognac. Up then sing loud and dance in play. Better still I do, you say. Delirium's nigh. If you must pine, take first some wine. And sometimes you take your tabac. Write joyfully mor su por sognac. Scene 14. Ballet. Scene 15. Monsieur de por sognac, an apothecary. Sir, here is a little remedy, a little remedy which you must take if you please, if you please. How? I have no occasion for anything of the kind. It was ordered, sir, it was ordered. What noise and bother. Take it, sir, take it. It's what do you no harm, it's what do you no harm. Monsieur de por sognac runs away. The apothecary, etc., after him. Scene 16. Monsieur de por sognac, an apothecary. Two physicians in grotesque clothes. Pilialo su, signor mon su. Pilialo, pilialo, pilialo su. Che non ti farra male. Take it, take it, sir. It will do you no harm. Che non ti farra male. Che non ti farra male. Che non ti farra male. Che non ti farra male. Take it, take it, sir. It will do you no harm. End of Act 1. Act 2 of Monsieur de por sognac by Molière. Translated by Charles Herron Wall. This is a LibriVox recording, or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Act 2. Scene 1. First Physician, Sprigani. He has forced through every obstacle I had placed to hinder him, and has fled from the remedies I was beginning to prepare for him. To avoid remedies, sole saliateria is yours, is to be a great enemy to oneself. It is the mark of a disturbed brain, and of a depraved reason to be unwilling to be cured. You would have cured him for certain in no time. Certainly, though there had been the complication of a dozen diseases. With all that he makes you lose those fifty well-earned pistolets. I have no intention of losing them, and I am determined to cure him in spite of himself. He is bound and engaged to take my remedies, and I will have him seized, where I can find him, as a deserter from physics and an infringer of my prescriptions. You are right. Your medicines were sure of their effect, and it is so much money he takes from you. Where could I find him? No doubt at the house of that good man, Orante, whose doctor he comes to marry, and who knowing nothing of the infirmity of his future son-in-law will perhaps be in a hurry to conclude the marriage. I will go and speak to him at once. You should, injustice to yourself. He is in need of my consultations, and a patient must not make a fool of his doctor. That is well said, and if I were you I would not suffer him to marry till you have visit him to your heart's content. Leave that to me. Sprygani, aside and going. For my part I will bring another battery into play, for the father-in-law is as much of a dupe as the son-in-law. Seen to, Orante, first physician. A certain gentleman, sir, a monstier du postagnac, is to marry your daughter, is he not? Yes, I expect him from Limoge, and he ought to have been here before now. And he has come, he has run away from my house, after having been placed under my care. But I forbid you, in the name of the faculty, to proceed with the marriage you have decided upon, before I have duly prepared him for it, and put him in a state to have children well conditioned, both in mind and body. What is it you mean? Your intended son-in-law was entered as my patient. His disease, which was given me to cure, is a chattel which belongs to me, in which I reckon among my possessions. I therefore declare to you that I will not allow him to marry before he has rendered due satisfaction to the faculty, and submitted to the remedies which I have ordered for him. He is suffering from some disease? Yes. And from what disease, if you please? Don't trouble yourself about that. Is it some disease? Doctors are bound to keep things secret. Let it suffice you that I enjoin both you and your daughter not to celebrate the wedding without my consent, upon pain of incurring the displeasure of the faculty, and of undergrowing all the diseases which we choose to lay upon you. If that is the case, I shall take good care to put a stop to the marriage. He wasn't trusted to me, and he is bound to be my patient. Very well. It is in vain for him to run away. I will have him sentenced to be cured by me. I am very willing? Yes. He must either die or be cured by me. I consent to it. And if I cannot find him, I will make you answerable and cure you instead of him. I am in very good health. No matter. I must have a patient, and I will take anyone I can. Take whom you will, but it shall not be me. Alone. Did you ever hear of such a thing? Scene 3 Laurent Sprigani as a Flemish merchant By your leave, I pay one of Oran merchant, and would like to ask you one little news. What, sir? Put your hat on the head, sir, if you please. Tell me, sir, what you want. I tell nothing, sir, if you not put the hat on the head. Very well, then. What is it, sir? You not know in this town one Mr. Orante? Yes, I know him. And that for one man is he, sir, if you please. He is like any other man. I ask you, sir, if he one man of money is. Yes. But very much rich, sir. Yes. It does me much pleasure, sir. But why should it? It is, sir, for one little greater reason for us. But why? It is, sir, that this Mr. Orante is such a remarriage to a certain Mr. Ponyak gifts. Well. And this Mr. Ponyak, sir, is one man that owes which gold in ten or twelve Flemish merchants that come here. This Mr. Deporsanak owes a great deal to ten or twelve merchants. Yes, sir, for the last eight months we have obtained one little judgment against him, and he put off all the creditors till this marriage that Mr. Orante gives to his daughter. Ho, ho! So he puts off paying his creditors till then? Yes, sir, and with great devotion we all wait for this marriage. The idea is not bad. Allowed. I wish you good day. I thank the gentleman for the favor great. You're very humble servant. I pay, sir, more great obliged than all by the good news that Mr. Giffney. Alone after having taken off his beard and taken off the Flemish dress which he has put over his. Ah, things don't go badly. All is going swimmingly. I must throw off this disguise and think of something else. We will put so much suspicion between the father-in-law and his son-in-law that the intended marriage must come to nothing. They are both equally fit to swallow the baits that are laid for them, and it is mere child's play for us great sharpers when we find such easy goals. Scene 4 Monsieur de Poursonniac, Sprigani Monsieur de Poursonniac, thinking himself alone Pili aloussous, Pili aloussous, Monsieur de Poursonniac, what the deuce does it all mean? Scene, Sprigani. Ah, what is the matter, sir? What hails you? Everything I see seems injection. How is that? You can't think what has happened to me in that house where you took me. No, what has happened? I thought I should be well feasted there. Well, I leave you in this gentleman's hands. Doctors dressed in black, in a chair, feel the pulse and proof of what I say. He is mad, two big fat-faced fellows with large brimmed hats. One dee, one dee, six pantalooms. Ta-ra, ta-toy, ta-ra, ta-ta-toy. Alligrimendi, Monsieur Poursonniac. Take, sir, take, take, it is gentle, gentle, gentle. Pili aloussous, Pili aloussous, Pili aloussous, I never was so surfeted with absurdities in all my life. What does it all mean? It means, sir, that this gentleman, with all his kissing and hugging, is a deceitful rascal who has sent me to that house to play me some trick. Is it possible? It is indeed. There were a dozen devils at my heels, and I had all the difficulty in the world to escape out of their clutches. Just fancy how deceitful people's looks are. I should have taken him for the most affectionate friend you have. It is a wonder to me how there can exist such rascals in the world. My imagination is full of it all, and it seems to me that I see everywhere a dozen injections threatening me. Ah, this is really too bad. How treacherous and wicked people are. Pray, tell me where Mr. Orante lives. I should be glad to go there at once. Ah. Ah, you are of a loving disposition, I see. And you have heard that Mr. Orante has a daughter? Yes. I am come to marry her. To marry her? Yes. In wedlock? How could it be otherwise? Oh, it is another thing, and I beg your pardon. What is it you mean? Oh, nothing. About pray? Nothing I tell you. I spoke rather hastily. I beg of you to tell me what it is. No, it is not necessary. Pray do. Oh no, I beg you to excuse me. What? Are you not one of my friends? Yes, certainly. Nobody more so. Then you ought not to hide anything from me. It is a thing in which a neighbour's honour is concerned. That I may oblige you to treat me like a friend. Here is a small ring I beg of you to keep for my sake. Let me consider a little, if I can, in conscience do it. Go the way a small distance from Mr. de Poursognac. He is a man who looks after his own interests. Who tries to provide for his daughter as advantageously as possible. And what should injure nobody? It is true that these things are no secret. But I shall be telling them to a man who knows nothing about it, and is forbidden to talk scandal of one's neighbour. All this is true. On the other hand, however, here is a stranger they want to impose upon, who comes in all good faith to marry a girl he knows nothing about, and whom he has never seen. A gentleman all open-heartedness for whom I feel some inclination, who does me the honour of reckoning me his friend, puts his confidence in me, and gives me a ring to keep for his sake. To Mr. de Poursognac. Yes, I think I can tell you how things are without wounding my conscience. But I must try to tell it all to you in the mildest way possible, and to spare people as much as I can. If I were to tell you that this girl leads a bad life, it would be going too far. I must find some milder term to explain myself. The word coquette does not come up to the mark. That of downright flirt seems to me to answer the purpose pretty well. And I can make use of it to tell you honestly what she is. They want to make a fool of me, then. But it may not be so bad as people think. After all, there are men who set themselves above such things, and who do not think that their honour depends upon— I am your servant. I have no wish to adorn my person with such a headress, and the Poursognacs are accustomed to walk with their heads free. Ah, here is the father. Who? This old man? Yes, allow me to withdraw. Scene five, Oronde, Monsieur de Poursognac. Good morning, sir. Good morning. Your servant, sir. Your servant. You are Monsieur Oronde, are you not? Yes. And I, Monsieur de Poursognac. Ah, indeed. Do you think, Monsieur Oronde, that the people of Limoges are fools? Do you think, Monsieur de Poursognac, that the people of Paris are arses? Do you imagine, Monsieur Oronde, that a man like me can be dying for a wife? Do you imagine, Monsieur de Poursognac, that a daughter like mine can be dying for a husband? Scene six, Monsieur de Poursognac, Julia Oronde. I have just been told, Father, that Monsieur de Poursognac has come. Ah, there he is. No doubt my heart tells me so. How handsome he is, how splendidly he holds himself, how pleased I am to have such a husband. Give me leave to kiss him and to show him. Softly, daughter, softly. Monsieur de Poursognac, aside. Hey there, at what a pace she goes, and how she takes fire. I should very much like to know, Monsieur de Poursognac, for what reason you... Julia approaches Monsieur de Poursognac, looks at him with a languishing look and tries to take his hand. How pleased I am to see you, and how impatient I am to... Hey, daughter, go away, will you? Monsieur de Poursognac, aside. What a free and easy young damsel. I should like to know what made you have the boldness to... Julia continues as above. Monsieur de Poursognac, aside. Bye, Jove. Oronde to Julia. Again? What do you mean? May I not kiss the husband you have chosen for me? No, go in. Allow me to look at him. Go in, I tell you. I should like to stop here, if you please. I will not suffer it. If you do not go in immediately, I... Very well then, I will go in. My daughter is a foolish girl who does not understand things. Monsieur de Poursognac, aside. How taken she is with me. Oronde to Julia, who has stopped. You won't go? When will you marry me to this gentleman? Never. You are not intended for him. I will have him. I will have him. You promised him to me. If I promised him to you, I take my promise back again. Monsieur de Poursognac, aside. She would feign eat me. Do what you will. We will be married in spite of everybody. I shall know how to prevent it. I forewarn you. What madness has taken hold of her? Scene 7. Oronde, Monsieur de Poursognac I say our intended father-in-law, don't give yourself so much trouble. I have no intention of running away with your daughter, and your pretence won't take it all. And yours will in no way succeed. Did you think that Leonardo de Poursognac is a man to buy a pig in a poke, and that she has not the sense to find out what goes on in the world, and to see if in marrying his honour is safe? I do not know what you mean. But did you take it into your head that a man of sixty-three years old has so little common sense, and so little consideration for his daughter, as to marry her to a man who has you know what, and who was put with a doctor to be cured? This is a trick that was practised upon me, and there is nothing the matter with me. The doctor told us so himself. The doctor told a lie. I am a gentleman. I will meet him a sword in hand. I know what I ought to believe, and you can no more impose upon me in this matter than about the debts that you are bound to pay on your marriage day. What debts? It is of no use to affect ignorance. I have seen the Flemish merchant who, with other creditors, obtained a decision against you eight months ago. What Flemish merchant? What creditors? What decision obtained against me? You know perfectly well what I mean. Scene eight. Monsieur de Poursognac, Oronde, Lucette. Lucette, pretending to be a woman from Languedoc. Oh, you be your be, and I have a vow need to loss her to all this, your traipse in the word and backward. Cance now ye rascals, cance look me in the face. What is it this woman wants? What do I want of thee, ye villain? These make wise need to know me, Dyson, and me Dyson turn to read another, impotent horse berth of the odd. Watch the wind and colour ver to look me in the face. To Oronde? I bear scythe, myster, and if it is you that they doze a wish ver to marry with the daughter, I shall mother I swear to you, I be the wife of an, and as there been be a gone when he was a travelling drooper's anus, he made out with falseness that ye north no will ver act ver to come over my heart, and so by one way or the other ver to get me ver to the army and ver to marry on. Oh, oh. The rascals left me drear afterwards, pretending that he'd got some business ver to do in his own country, and ever since I ain't a young ornus at all, but when I wouldn't think in nothing tol about ye, I would say as how he was a commoner into this your town ver to be a married again, we are another young omen, that her father and mother had a promise too, and thou know nothing how that he was a married of vore, do I start to ruckly and I become your to this your place, as in ze very possible good, ver to stop this wicked marriage, and ver to show up above all the world, the very wisest man that ever was. What wonderful impudence! Impurence! Bantu, ashamed of yourself, ver to make sport to me, stood to be unbroke down with inward feelings at the wicked art of ver to give thee. Do you mean to say that I am your husband? Thelin, just dare to say tinsel. Oh, these know well enough with luck to me, that is old Zoutou's gospel, and I wish to have into one's own, and that these are let me so innocent, and so quiet like in's I used to be, of all thy charms, and my trumpery bad luck made me ver to seek it all. I never shouldn't have been a brothel, ver to be the poor weesh thing that I'd be now, ver to see my man cool like, make a laugh in sport of all the love that I'd have borne, and laugh me about one beat a pity, ver the mortal pain of a bed, but the she-aimful waver soared me. Really, I feel quite ready to weep. Go, you are a wicked man. Scene 9 Monsieur de Poursognac, Dérin, Lucette, Oronde Dérin pretending to be from Piccadilly Oh, I can't stand not more. I'm rate-winded. Oh, good for a nod. Thou's made me run well for it. Thou'll not Skype me now. Justice! Justice! Ah, forbid the wedding. Tourne, he's my aim, man, master, and I should just like to have him strong up, the precious hangdog there. Another. What a devil of a man. And what be you, Tolenaux? Why, you're forbidden and you're angry, thinking man's your husband is her. You're right, mrs. And I'm just his wife. That's a lie, then. It is me that's the real wife of him. And if he ought to vert behind, why, it is me that ought vert avid it, dude. Me? How can make not that sort of talk? I do tell ye that I pee his wife. His wife? It's fine. I tell ye once more that it's me that's just that. And I there was in the class as thou tears me my own soul. Two or four years gone at he wed me. Ah, mate, has there been no sense he took me thus wife? I can't prove all that I say. All my neighbours know it. Our town can well witness to it. I'll put thee in a seat as I'm married. I'll see in Quinton how about our wedding. Thou can't be more safe, huh? Thou can't be more certain. Lucette, to mrs. de Porsognac. This he dare to say, oh, can it not reveal him? Nérin, to mrs. de Porsognac. Can't thou deny me wicked man? One is as true as the other. What a haemperance! What a rogue! You don't mind poor little Frankie. Poor little Cheney. They'd be the outcomans of our marriage. Just look this cheek. What? Thou'st forgot your poor chill? Our little Maggie. Thou'st left me for pleasure dath faith. What impudent jades! You're Frankie. You're Cheney. Come both of thee. Come both of thee. Make a bad rascal of a father own to our weasels. Sword all of us. Come here, the Maggie, my sheil. Come here quick. And shame your father of the impudence of the scotten. Cinten, mrs. de Porsognac, Oronde, Lucette, Nérin, several children. Father, father, father! Do take the little brats. What she veer, then? Artany fit to drab her, to talk to your children auto-disparsing. And to keep these eyes vast, fear the mid-show, a leg of father to one. These she can get away from me, the scaliest oars-bird. Or polly thee every place, and cry out thee wickedness, Genniver saw of thee out. And Genniver made thee swing. Rascal I should like ver to make thee swing for it. And that I should. We'll not blush to spake ye on words. And to take no thought of the kissing on yon poor sheil. Thou not get clear my claws, I can tell thee. And spite of thy showing thy teeth, I'll make thee know at arm thou wife. And I'll make thee hang for it. Father, father, father! Father, help, help, where shall I run? Go! You will do right to have him punished. And he richly deserves to be hanged. Scene 11. Sprygani alone. Ah, everything has been done according to my wish, and is succeeding admirably. We will so weary out our provincial, that he will only be too thankful to leave the place. Scene 12. Monsieur de Poursognac. Sprygani. Ah, I murdered what vexation! What a cursed town! Assassinated everywhere! What is it, sir, as anything you happened? Yes. It rains doctors and women in this country. How is that? Two jabbering jades have just been accusing me of being married to both of them, and have threatened me with justice. Ah, this is bad business for, in this country, justice is terribly rigorous against that sort of crime. Yes. But even if there should be information, reputation, decree, and verdict obtained by surprise, default and controversy, I have still the alternative of a conflict of jurisdiction to gain time, and a resort to the means of nullity that will be found in the court case. The very terms. And it is easy to see that you are in the profession, sir. I? Certainly not. I am a gentleman. But to speak as you do, you must have studied the law. Not at all. It is only a common sense which tells me that I shall always be admitted to be justified by facts, that I could not be condemned upon a simple accusation without witnesses, evidence, and confrontation with my adverse party. Oh, this is more clever still. These words come into my head without my knowledge. It seems to me that the common sense of a gentleman may go so far as to understand what belongs to right and the order of justice, but not to know the very terms as chicane. There are a few words I remember from reading novels. Ah, I see. To show you that I understand nothing of chicane, I beg of you to take me to a lawyer to have advice upon this affair. Willingly. I will take you to two very clever men. But first I must tell you not to be surprised at their manner of speaking. They have contracted at the bar a certain habit of performing, which looks like singing, and you would think all they tell you is nothing but music. It does not matter how they speak, as long as they tell me what I wish to know. Scene 13 Monsieur de Poursognac, Sprygani, two lawyers, two attorneys, two sergeants. Polygamy is a case you find, a case of hanging. Your deed is plain and clear, and all the gear of wigs and law upon this floor is clear. Consult your authors, legislators and glossators, Justinian, Papinian, Opinian, Trebonian, Fernand Reboef, Jean-Namal, Paul Castro, Julian Bartol, Jason, Oliad and Kujas, that mighty mind. Polygamy is a case you'll find, a case of hanging. Belay, while the second lawyer sings as before. All nations civilized, French, Dutch and English, Portuguese, German, Slemish, Italians and Spanish, by wisdom sceptre suede, for this the self-same law and the deed, the affair allows no doubt. Polygamy is a case, a case of hanging. Monsieur de Poursognac, irritated, drives them all away. End of Act 2 Act 3 of Monsieur de Poursognac, by Molière, translated by Charles Harren Wall. This is a LibriVox recording, or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Act 3, Scene 1 Erast Sprigani Erast Sprigani Wispos Nothing could be better. Ah, here is our young lady. Go quickly, she must not see us together. Scene 2 Monsieur de Poursognac, as a lady, Sprigani. For my part, I don't think anyone can know you, and you look exactly like a lady of birth. I'm so astonished that in this province the forms of justice should not be observed. Yes, as I have already told you, they begin by hanging a man and try him afterwards. What unjust justice! It is definitely severe, particularly on this kind of crime. Still, when one is innocent. Ah, me, they care little for that. And besides, they have here a most intolerable hatred for the people of your province, and nothing gives them more pleasure than to hang a man from Limoges. What have the people from Limoges done to them? How do I know? They are downright brutes, enemies to all the gentility and merit of other cities. For my part, I am in the greatest fear on your account, and I should never comfort myself if you were hanged. It is not so much the fear of death that urges me to fly as the fact of being hanged, for it is the most grading thing for a gentleman and would ruin one's title of nobility. You are right. After such a thing they would contest your right of bearing a title of nobility. But be careful, when I lead you by the hand to walk like a woman, and to assume the manners and language of a lady of quality. Leave that to me. I have seen people of high standing in the world. The only thing that troubles me is that I have somewhat of a beard. Oh, it's not worth mentioning. There are many women who have as much. Now let us just see how you will behave yourself. Monsieur de Poursagnac mimics a lady of rank. Ah, good. Why, my carriage is not here. Where is my carriage? Gracious me! How wretched I have such attendants! Shall I have to wait all day in the street? Will not someone call my carriage for me? Very good. So there, coachman, little page, ah, little rogue, what a whipping you will get by and by. Little page boy, little page boy, where in the world is that page boy? Will that little page never be found? Will nobody call that little page for me? Is my little page nowhere to be found? Marvelous! But there is one thing that I see does not do. This hood is a little too thin. I must go and fetch you a thicker one to hide your face better in case of any accident. What shall I do in the meantime? Wait for me here. I will be back in a moment. You have only to walk about. Monsieur de Poursagnac walks forward and backward on the stage, mimicking the lady of rank. Scene three. Monsieur de Poursagnac, to Swiss. First Swiss, without seeing Monsieur de Poursagnac. Come you, make haste, my comrade, we will, both of us, go to the market place to see this poor schnacket de justice, which him contempt to pee hung by the neck. Second Swiss, without seeing Monsieur de Poursagnac. We must hire un vindo to see this justice. Man says that say already a great new gallo plant half to hang this poor schnacket to it. It will be, yes, a great pleasure to see this limousine hung. Yeah, to see him voggle the feet up there before all the peoples. He pee one funny man, he pee. Man says that he married three times half. The room fellow. He vant three wives all to himself. One very much pee quiet enough for him. Second Swiss, perceiving Monsieur de Poursagnac. Ah, good day, Missy. What do you sell by self? I am waiting for my servants, gentlemen. You'll be pretty, Missy. Gently, sirs. Missy, will you come and amuse you on the marketplace? We will make you see one little hanging very pretty. I am much obliged, do you? It is a limousine, gentlemen, for feel whom be very puttily at the great gallo. I am not desirous to see it. You have one much funny press. Ah, this is too much. Show these things are not said to a woman of my position. You go away. Me will let not you. But I feel, I tell you. Both lay hold of Monsieur de Poursagnac, roughly. I will not let you. You have told one very much lie. You have told one lie yourself. Help, help, police. Monsieur de Poursagnac, three police officers, two Swiss. What is it? What is the meaning of this violence? And what are you doing to this lady? Be off at once, unless you wish to be put in prison. Good. You gone. You will not have her. Good. You gone, too. You will not have her, also. Scene five, Monsieur de Poursagnac, three police officers. Oh, I much obliged you, sir, for saving me from these insolent fellows. Oh, oh. This is a face which is ducidly like that which was described to me. It is not I, I assure you. Oh, oh. What does this mean? I don't know. What is it, then, that makes you say that? Nothing. This manner of speaking is somewhat ambiguous, and you are my prisoner. Oh, sir, I pray. No, no. To judge by your appearance and your manner of speaking, you must be that Monsieur de Poursagnac we are looking for, although you are disguised in this manner, and you must come to prison at once. Alas! Scene six, Monsieur de Poursagnac, Sprigani, three police officers. Sprigani to Monsieur de Poursagnac. Heavens! What does this mean? They have discovered who I am. Yes, yes. I am delighted about it. Sprigani to the officer. Ah, sir, for my sake. Do not take him to prison. You know that we have been friends for a long while. I cannot help it. You are a man to hear reason. Is there no way of adjusting this matter with the help of a few pistoles? Officer to his subordinates. Go farther back. Scene seven, Monsieur de Poursagnac, Sprigani, a police officer. Sprigani to Monsieur de Poursagnac. You must give him some money for him to let you go. Be quick. Monsieur de Poursagnac giving some money to Sprigani. Ah, cursed place. Here, sir. How much is there? One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten. No, I have express orders. Sprigani to the officer who is going. Pray, wait. To Monsieur de Poursagnac. Be quick. Give him as much again. But be quick, I tell you. Don't waste time. You would be happy with you not if you were hanged. Ah. Gives no money to Sprigani. Sprigani to the officer. Here, sir. Officer to Sprigani. I must go off with him, for I should not be in safety here after this. Leave him to me, and don't stir from this place. I beg of you to take the utmost care of him. I promise you not to leave him one moment till I see him safe. Monsieur de Poursagnac to Sprigani. Farewell. This is the first honest man I have found in this town. Scene eight. Oronde, Sprigani. Sprigani affecting not to see Oronde. Ah, what strange adventure. What terrible news for a father. Poor Oronde, how much I pity you. What will you say? How will you ever be able to bear with such a misfortune? What is it? Of what misfortune do you speak? Ah, sir. This wretch of a limousine has run away with your daughter. Run away with my daughter? Yes. She became so infatuated with him that she has left you to follow him. It is said that he has a charm to make all women fall in love with him. Quick! Justice! Let the police be set after them. Scene nine. Oronde, Erast, Julia, Sprigani. Erast to Julia. Come along. You shall come and splinter yourself. I will put you in your father's hands. Sir, here is your daughter, whom I had to take by force from the man with whom she was running away. It is not for her sake that I did it, but entirely for yours. For after such conduct I ought to despise her. And it is enough to cure me altogether of my love. Ah, infamous girl that you are. Erast to Julia. How could you treat me in that way after all the proofs of affection I have given you? I do not blame you for being obedient to your father's will. He is wise and judicious in all he does, and I do not complain of him for having preferred another to me. They told him that that other man was richer than I by four or five thousand crowns, and four or five thousand crowns are a good round sum, and are enough to make a gentleman break his word. But that you should forget in a moment all the love I had for you. Suffer yourself to fall madly in love with the first newcomer, and shamefully follow him, without the consent of your father, after all the crimes that were charged upon him. It is what all the world will condemn, and what my heart can never cease to reproach you with. Well, yes, I fell in love with him, and I wanted to follow him, since my father had chosen him to be my husband. Whatever you may say, he is a very honest man, and all the crimes they accuse him of are so many detestable falsehoods. Be silent! You are an impertinent hussy, and only know better than you. There are some tricks they have played him, and... Showing, Erast? It is he himself, no doubt, who managed it all to disgust you with him. What? I should be capable of such a thing. Yes, you. Be silent, I tell you. You are a silly girl. You need not think that I have any wish to prevent the match, and that it is because I love you that I hasten to rescue you. I have already told you that it is only because of the regard I have for your father. I could not bear to see an honourable man exposed to the shame of all the gossip that would be occasioned by such an action. I am truly and sincerely obliged to you, sir. Farewell, sir. I had the greatest desire to enter into your family. I did everything to deserve such an honour, but I have been unfortunate, and you did not judge me worthy of that honour. It will not prevent me from retaining towards you all those feelings of esteem and regard which your person demands, and, although I cannot be your son-in-law, I shall always be at your service. Stay. Your behaviour touches my heart, and I give you my daughter in marriage. I won't have any other husband, then, Monshore de Porto-Noac. And I will have you marry Erast at once. No, I will not. I shall give it you about the years. No, no, sir. Don't use violence towards her. I pray you. I will have her obey me, and I will show her that I am the master. Do you not see how fast in love she is with that man? And would you have me possess the body while another has the heart? He has thrown some charm upon her. You may be sure that she will change before long. Give me your hand. Come. No! Ah! What rebellion! Your hand, I tell you, at once. Do not think that it is because of my love for you that I agree to marry you. It is your father only that I am in love with, and it is him whom I marry. I am truly obliged to you, and I add ten thousand crowns to my daughter's portion. Quick, a notary to draw up the contract. In meanwhile, let us enjoy the pleasures of the season, and fetch in those masks who in the report of Monsieur de Poissonniac's wedding has attracted hither. Scene Ten A Ballet End of Act Three End of Monsieur de Poissonniac by Molière Translated by Charles Herron Wall