No, no, my father, I will have no critic,
(Miscalled a husband) since you still permit
The innocent sweet pleasures of the stage;
And shall I venture to exchange my lot?
Then we have children folded in our arms
To bring them to the play-house; heavens! what troubles!
Then we lie in, are big, or sick, or vexed:
These make us bid farewell to comedy!
At length these imagined sons-in-law appear; Filidan declares that in
these three girls he cannot find the mistress he adores. Amidor
confesses he only asked for one of his daughters out of pure gallantry,
and that he is only a lover--in verse! When Phalante is questioned after
the great fortunes he hinted at, the father discovers that he has not a
stiver, and out of credit to borrow: while Artabaze declares that he
only allowed Alcidon, out of mere benevolence, to flatter himself for a
moment with the hope of an honour that even Jupiter would not dare to
pretend to. The four lovers disperse and leave the old gentleman more
embarrassed than ever, and his daughters perfectly enchanted to enjoy
their whimsical reveries, and die old maids--all alike "Visionaries!"