ISA. What! you bring Valère to me! What is your design? Are you taking
his part against me? And do you wish, charmed by his rare merits, to
compel me to love him, and endure his visits?
SGAN. No, my love; your affection is too dear to me for that; but he
believes that my messages are untrue; he thinks that it is I who speak,
and cunningly represent you as full of hatred for him, and of tenderness
for me; I wish, therefore, from your own mouth, infallibly to cure him
of a mistake which nourishes his love.
ISA. (_To Valère_). What! Is not my soul completely bared to your
eyes, and can you still doubt whom I love?
VAL. Yes, all that this gentleman has told me on your behalf, Madam,
might well surprise a man; I confess I doubted it. This final sentence,
which decides the fate of my great love, moves my feelings so much that
it can be no offence if I wish to have it repeated.
ISA. No. no, such a sentence should not surprise you. Sganarelle told
you my very sentiments; I consider them to be sufficiently founded on
justice, to make their full truth clear. Yes, I desire it to be known,
and I ought to be believed, that fate here presents two objects to my
eyes, who, inspiring me with different sentiments, agitate my heart. One
by a just choice, in which my honour is involved, has all my esteem and
love; and the other, in return for his affection, has all my anger and
aversion. The presence of the one is pleasing and dear to me, and fills
me with joy; but the sight of the other inspires me with secret emotions
of hatred and horror. To see myself the wife of the one is all my
desire; and rather than belong to the other, I would lose my life. But I
have sufficiently declared my real sentiments; and languished too long
under this severe torture. He whom I love must use diligence to make him
whom I hate lose all hope, and deliver me by a happy marriage, from a
suffering more terrible than death.
SGAN. Yes, darling, I intend to gratify your wish.
ISA. It is the only way to make me happy.
SGAN. You shall soon be so.
ISA. I know it is a shame for a young woman, so openly to declare her
love.
SGAN. No, no.
ISA. But, seeing what my lot is, such liberty must be allowed me; I can,
without blushing, make so tender a confession to him whom I already
regard as a husband.
SGAN. Yes, my poor child, darling of my soul!
ISA. Let him think, then, how to prove his passion for me.
SGAN. Yes, here, kiss my hand.
ISA. Let him, without more sighing, hasten a marriage which is all I
desire, and accept the assurance which I give him, never to listen to
the vows of another. (_She pretends to embrace Sganarelle, and gives
her hand to Valère to kiss_).
[Footnote: This stage play is imitated by Congreve in _The Old
Bachelor_, (Act iv., Scene 22) when Mrs. Fondlewife goes and hangs
upon her husband's neck and kisses him; whilst Bellmour kisses her hand
behind Fondlewife's back.]
SGAN. Oh, oh, my little pretty face, my poor little darling, you shall
not pine long, I promise you. (_To Valère_). There, say no more.
You see I do not make her speak; it is me alone she loves.
VAL. Well, Madam, well, this is sufficient explanation. I learn by your
words what you urge me to do; I shall soon know how to rid your presence
of him who so greatly offends you.
ISA. You could not give me greater pleasure. For, to be brief, the sight
of him is intolerable. It is odious to me, and I detest it so much...
SGAN. Eh! Eh!
ISA. Do I offend you by speaking thus? Do I...
SGAN. Heavens, by no means! I do not say that. But in truth, I pity his
condition; you show your aversion too openly.
ISA. I cannot show it too much on such an occasion.
VAL. Yes, you shall be satisfied; in three days your eyes shall no
longer see the object which is odious to you.
ISA. That is right. Farewell.
SGAN. (_To Valère_): I pity your misfortune, but...
VAL. No, you will hear no complaint from me. The lady assuredly does us
both justice, and I shall endeavour to satisfy her wishes. Farewell.
SGAN. Poor fellow! his grief is excessive. Stay, embrace me: I am her
second self. (_Embraces Valère_)