SCENE I.--MASCARILLE, ERGASTE.

Produced by David Moynihan, D Garcia, Charles Franks and

the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.

L'ÉTOURDI, OU LES CONTRE-TEMPS.

COMEDIE.

THE BLUNDERER: OR, THE COUNTERPLOTS.

A COMEDY IN FIVE ACTS.

(_THE ORIGINAL IN VERSE_.)

1653. (?)

INTRODUCTORY NOTICE.

_The Blunderer_ is generally believed to have been first acted at

Lyons in 1653, whilst Molière and his troupe were in the provinces. In

the month of November 1658 it was played for the first time in Paris,

where it obtained a great and well-deserved success. It is chiefly based

on an Italian comedy, written by Nicolo Barbieri, known as Beltrame, and

called _L'Inavvertito_, from which the character of Mascarille, the

servant, is taken, but differs in the ending, which is superior in the

Italian play. An imitation of the classical boasting soldier, Captain

Bellorofonte, Martelione, and a great number of _concetti_, have

also not been copied by Molière. The fourth scene of the fourth act of

_l'Ètourdi_ contains some passages taken from the _Angelica_,

a comedy by Fabritio de Fornaris, a Neapolitan, who calls himself on the

title-page of his play "il Capitano Coccodrillo, comico confidente." A

few remarks are borrowed from _la Emilia_, a comedy by Luigi

Grotto, whilst here and there we find a reminiscence from Plautus, and

one scene, possibly suggested by the sixteenth of the _Contes et

Discours d'Eutrapel_, written by Nöel du Fail, Lord of la Hérissaye.

Some of the scenes remind us of passages in several Italian _Commedia

del' arte_ between _Arlecchino_ and _Pantaleone_ the

personifications of impudence and ingenuity, as opposed to meekness and

stupidity; they rouse the hilarity of the spectators, who laugh at the

ready invention of the knave as well as at the gullibility of the old

man, Before this comedy appeared the French stage was chiefly filled

with plays full of intrigue, but with scarcely any attempt to delineate

character or manners. In this piece the plot is carried on, partly in

imitation of the Spanish taste, by a servant, Mascarille, who is the

first original personage Molière has created; he is not a mere imitation

of the valets of the Italian or classical comedy; he has not the

coarseness and base feelings of the servants of his contemporaries, but

he is a lineal descendant of Villon, a free and easy fellow, not over

nice in the choice or execution of his plans, but inventing new ones

after each failure, simply to keep in his hand; not too valiant, except

perhaps when in his cups, rather jovial and chaffy, making fun of

himself and everybody else besides, no respecter of persons or things,

and doomed probably not to die in his bed. Molière must have encountered

many such a man whilst the wars of the Fronde were raging, during his

perigrinations in the provinces. Even at the present time, a Mascarille

is no impossibility; for, "like master like man." There are also in

_The Blunderer_ too many incidents, which take place successively,

without necessarily arising one from another. Some of the characters are

not distinctly brought out, the style has often been found fault with,

by Voltaire and other competent judges, [Footnote: Victor Hugo appears

to be of another opinion. M. Paul Stapfer, in his _les Artistes juges

et parties_ (2º Causerie, the Grammarian of Hauteville House, p. 55),

states:--"the opinion of Victor Hugo about Molière is very peculiar.

According to him, the best written of all the plays of our great comic

author is his first work, _l'Ètourdi_. It possesses a brilliancy

and freshness of style which still shine in _le Dépit amoureux_,

but which gradually fade, because Molière, yielding unfortunately to

other inspirations than his own, enters more and more upon a new way."]

but these defects are partly covered by a variety and vivacity which are

only fully displayed when heard on the stage.

In the third volume of the "Select Comedies of M. de Molière, London,

1732." _The Blunderer_ is dedicated to the Right Honorable Philip,

Earl of Chesterfield, in the following words:--

"MY LORD,--The translation of _L'Ètourdi_, which, in company with

the original, throws itself at your lordship's feet, is a part of a

design form'd by some gentlemen, of exhibiting to the public a _Select

Collection of Molière's Plays_, in _French_ and _English_.

This author, my lord, was truly a genius, caress'd by the greatest men

of his own time, and honoured with the patronage of princes. When the

translator, therefore, of this piece was to introduce him in an

_English_ dress in justice he owed him an _English_ patron,

and was readily determined to your lordship, whom all the world allows

to be a genius of the first rank. But he is too sensible of the beauties

of his author, and the refined taste your lordship is universally known

to have in polite literature, to plead anything but your candour and

goodness, for your acceptance of this performance. He persuades himself

that your lordship, who best knows how difficult it is to speak like

_Molière_, even when we have his sentiments to inspire us, will be

readiest to forgive the imperfections of this attempt. He is the rather

encouraged, my lord, to hope for a candid reception from your lordship,

on account of the usefulness of this design, which he flatters himself

will have your approbation. 'Tis to spirit greater numbers of our

countrymen to read this author, who wou'd otherwise not have attempted

it, or, being foil'd in their attempts, wou'd throw him by in despair.

And however generally the _French_ language may be read, or spoke

in England, there will be still very great numbers, even of those who

are said to understand _French_, who, to master this comic writer,

will want the help of a translation; and glad wou'd the publishers of

this work be to guide the feebler steps of some such persons, not only

till they should want no translation, but till some of them should be

able to make a much better than the present. The great advantage of

understanding _Molière_ your Lordship best knows. What is it, but

almost to understand mankind? He has shown such a compass of knowledge

in human nature, as scarce to leave it in the power of succeeding

writers in comedy to be originals; whence it has, in fact, appear'd,

that they who, since his time, have most excelled in the _Comic_

way, have copied _Molière_, and therein were sure of copying

nature. In this author, my lord, our youth will find the strongest

sense, the purest moral, and the keenest satyr, accompany'd with the

utmost politeness; so that our countrymen may take a _French_

polish, without danger of commencing fops and apes, as they sometimes do

by an affectation of the dress and manners of that people; for no man

has better pourtray'd, or in a finer manner expos'd fopperies of all

kinds, than this our author hath, in one or other of his pieces. And

now,'tis not doubted, my lord, but your lordship is under some

apprehensions, and the reader under some expectation, that the

translator should attempt your character, in right of a dedicator, as a

refin'd wit, and consummate statesman. But, my lord, speaking the truth

to a person of your lordship's accomplishments, would have the

appearance of flattery, especially to those who have not the honour of

knowing you; and those who have, conceive greater ideas of you than the

translator will pretend to express. Permit him, then, my lord, to crave

your lordship's acceptance of this piece, which appears to you with a

fair and correct copy of the original; but with a translation which can

be of no manner of consequence to your lordship, only as it may be of

consequence to those who _would_ understand Molière if they

_could_. Your lordship's countenance to recommend it to such will

infinitely oblige, my lord, your lordship's most devoted, and most

obedient, humble servant, THE TRANSLATOR."

To recommend to Lord Chesterfield an author on account of "the purest

moral," or because "no man has ... in a finer manner exposed fopperies

of all kinds," appears to us now a bitter piece of satire; it may

however, be doubted if it seemed so to his contemporaries. [Footnote:

Lord Chesterfield appeared not so black to those who lived in his own

time as he does to us, for Bishop Warburton dedicated to him his

_Necessity and Equity of an Established Religion and a Test-Law

Demonstrated_, and says in his preface: "It is an uncommon happiness

when an honest man can congratulate a patriot on his becoming minister,"

and expresses the hope, that "the temper of the times will suffer your

Lordship to be instrumental in saving your country by a reformation of

the general manners."]

Dryden has imitated _The Blunderer_ in _Sir Martin Mar-all; or

the Feigned Innocence_, first translated by William Cavendish, Duke

of Newcastle, and afterwards adapted for the stage by "glorious John."

It must have been very successful, for it ran no less than thirty-three

nights, and was four times acted at court. It was performed at Lincoln's

Inn Fields by the Duke of York's servants, probably at the desire of the

Duke of Newcastle, as Dryden was engaged to write for the King's

Company. It seems to have been acted in 1667, and was published, without

the author's name, in 1668. But it cannot be fairly called a

translation, for Dryden has made several alterations, generally not for

the better, and changed _double entendres_ into single ones. The

heroine in the English play, Mrs. Millisent, (Celia), marries the

roguish servant, Warner (Mascarille), who takes all his master's

blunders upon himself, is bribed by nearly everybody, pockets insults

and money with the same equanimity, and when married, is at last proved

a gentleman, by the disgusting Lord Dartmouth, who "cannot refuse to own

him for my (his) kinsman." With a fine stroke of irony Millisent's

father becomes reconciled to his daughter having married a serving-man

as soon as he hears that the latter has an estate of eight hundred a

year. Sir Martin Mar-all is far more conceited and foolish than Lelio;

Trufaldin becomes Mr. Moody, a swashbuckler; a compound of Leander and

Andrès, Sir John Swallow, a Kentish knight; whilst of the filthy

characters of Lord Dartmouth, Lady Dupe, Mrs. Christian, and Mrs.

Preparation, no counterparts are found in Molière's play. But the scene

in which Warner plays the lute, whilst his master pretends to do so, and

which is at last discovered by Sir Martin continuing to play after the

servant has finished, is very clever. [Footnote: According to Geneste,

_Some Accounts of the English Stage_, 10 vols., 1832, vol. i., p.

76, Bishop Warburton, in his _Alliance of Church and State_ (the

same work is mentioned in Note 2), and Porson in his _Letters to

Travis_ alludes to this scene.] Dryden is also said to have consulted

_l'Amant indiscret_ of Quinault, in order to furbish forth the Duke

of Newcastle's labours. Sir Walter Scott states in his introduction: "in

that part of the play, which occasions its second title of 'the feigned

Innocence,' the reader will hardly find wit enough to counterbalance the

want of delicacy." Murphy has borrowed from _The Blunderer_ some

incidents of the second act of his _School for Guardians_, played

for the first time in 1767.

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

[Footnote: Molière, Racine, and Corneille always call the dramatis

personae _acteurs_, and not _personnages_.]

LELIO, _son to_ PANDOLPHUS.

LEANDER, _a young gentleman of good birth_.

ANSELMO, _an old man_.

PANDOLPHUS, _an old man_.

TRUFALDIN, _an old man_.

ANDRÈS, _a supposed gipsy_.

MASCARILLE, _servant to Lelio_.

[Footnote: _Mascarille_ is a name invented by Molière, and a

diminutive of the Spanish _mascara_, a mask. Some commentators of

Molière think that the author, who acted this part, may sometimes have

played it in a mask, but this is now generally contradicted. He seems,

however, to have performed it habitually, for after his death there was

taken an inventory of all his dresses, and amongst these, according to

M. Eudore Soulié, _Recherches sur Molière_, 1863, p. 278, was:

"a ... dress for _l'Étourdi_, consisting in doublet, knee-breeches,

and cloak of satin." Before his time the usual name of the intriguing

man-servant was _Philipin_.]

ERGASTE, _a servant_.

A MESSENGER.

_Two Troops of Masqueraders_.

CELIA, _slave to_ TRUFALDIN.

HIPPOLYTA, _daughter to_ ANSELMO.

_Scene_.--MESSINA.

THE BLUNDERER: OR, THE COUNTERPLOTS.

(_L'ÉTOURDI, ou LES CONTRE-TEMPS_.)

ACT I.

SCENE I.--LELIO, _alone_.

LEL. Very well! Leander, very well! we must quarrel then,--we shall see

which of us two will gain the day; and which, in our mutual pursuit

after this young miracle of beauty, will thwart the most his rival's

addresses. Do whatever you can, defend yourself well, for depend upon

it, on my side no pains shall be spared.

SCENE II.--LELIO, MASCARILLE.

LEL. Ah! Mascarille!

MASC. What's the matter?

LEL. A great deal is the matter. Everything crosses my love. Leander is

enamoured of Celia. The Fates have willed it, that though I have changed

the object of my passion, he still remains my rival.

MASC. Leander enamoured of Celia!

LEL. He adores her, I tell you.

[Footnote: In French, _tu, toi_, thee, thou, denote either social

superiority or familiarity. The same phraseology was also employed in

many English comedies of that time, but sounds so stiff at present, that

the translator has everywhere used "you."]

MASC. So much the worse.

LEL. Yes, so much the worse, and that's what annoys me. However, I

should be wrong to despair, for since you aid me, I ought to take

courage. I know that your mind can plan many intrigues, and never finds

anything too difficult; that you should be called the prince of

servants, and that throughout the whole world....

MASC. A truce to these compliments; when people have need of us poor

servants, we are darlings, and incomparable creatures; but at other

times, at the least fit of anger, we are scoundrels, and ought to be

soundly thrashed.

LEL. Nay, upon my word, you wrong me by this remark. But let us talk a

little about the captive. Tell me, is there a heart so cruel, so

unfeeling, as to be proof against such charming features? For my part,

in her conversation as well as in her countenance, I see evidence of her

noble birth. I believe that Heaven has concealed a lofty origin beneath

such a lowly station.

MASC. You are very romantic with all your fancies. But what will

Pandolphus do in this case? He is your father, at least he says so. You

know very well that his bile is pretty often stirred up; that he can

rage against you finely, when your behaviour offends him. He is now in

treaty with Anselmo about your marriage with his daughter, Hippolyta;

imagining that it is marriage alone that mayhap can steady you: now,

should he discover that you reject his choice, and that you entertain a

passion for a person nobody knows anything about; that the fatal power

of this foolish love causes you to forget your duty and disobey him;

Heaven knows what a storm will then burst forth, and what fine lectures

you will be treated to.

LEL. A truce, I pray, to your rhetoric.

MASC. Rather a truce to your manner of loving, it is none of the best,

and you ought to endeavour.

LEL. Don't you know, that nothing is gained by making me angry, that

remonstrances are badly rewarded by me, and that a servant who counsels

me acts against his own interest?

MASC. (_Aside_). He is in a passion now. (_Aloud_). All that I

said was but in jest, and to try you. Do I look so very much like a

censor, and is Mascarille an enemy to pleasure? You know the contrary,

and that it is only too certain people can tax me with nothing but being

too good-natured. Laugh at the preachings of an old grey-beard of a

father; go on, I tell you, and mind them not. Upon my word, I am of

opinion that these old, effete and grumpy libertines come to stupify us

with their silly stories, and being virtuous, out of necessity, hope

through sheer envy to deprive young people of all the pleasures of life!

You know my talents; I am at your service.

LEL. Now, this is talking in a manner I like. Moreover, when I first

declared my passion, it was not ill received by the lovely object who

inspired it; but, just now, Leander has declared to me that he is

preparing to deprive me of Celia; therefore let us make haste; ransack

your brain for the speediest means to secure me possession of her; plan

any tricks, stratagems, rogueries, inventions, to frustrate my rival's

pretensions.

MASC. Let me think a little upon this matter. (_Aside_). What can I

invent upon this urgent occasion?

LEL. Well, the stratagem?

MASC. What a hurry you are in! My brain must always move slowly. I have

found what you want; you must... No, that's not it; but if you would

go...

LEL. Whither?

MASC. No, that's a flimsy trick. I thought that...

LEL. What is it?

MASC. That will not do either. But could you not...?

LEL. Could I not what?

MASC. No, you could not do anything. Speak to Anselmo.

LEL. And what can I say to him?

MASC. That is true; that would be falling out of the frying-pan into the

fire. Something must be done however. Go to Trufaldin.

LEL. What to do?

MASC. I don't know.

LEL. Zounds! this is too much. You drive me mad with this idle talk.

MASC. Sir, if you could lay your hand on plenty of pistoles, [Footnote:

The pistole is a Spanish gold coin worth about four dollars; formerly

the French pistole was worth in France ten _livres_--about ten

francs--they were struck in Franche-Comté.] we should have no need now

to think of and try to find out what means we must employ in compassing

our wishes; we might, by purchasing this slave quickly, prevent your

rival from forestalling and thwarting you. Trufaldin, who takes charge

of her, is rather uneasy about these gipsies, who placed her with him.

If he could get back his money, which they have made him wait for too

long, I am quite sure he would be delighted to sell her; for he always

lived like the veriest curmudgeon; he would allow himself to be whipped

for the smallest coin of the realm. Money is the God he worships above

everything, but the worst of it is that...

LEL. What is the worst of it?...

MASC. That your father is just as covetous an old hunk, who does not

allow you to handle his ducats, as you would like; that there is no way

by which we could now open ever so small a purse, in order to help you.

But let us endeavour to speak to Celia for a moment, to know what she

thinks about this affair; this is her window.

LEL. But Trufaldin watches her closely night and day; Take care.

MASC. Let us keep quiet in this corner. What luck! Here she is coming

just in the nick of time.

SCENE III.--CELIA, LELIO, MASCARILLE.

LEL. Ah! madam, what obligations do I owe to Heaven for allowing me to

behold those celestial charms you are blest with! Whatever sufferings

your eyes may have caused me, I cannot but take delight in gazing on

them in this place.

CEL. My heart, which has good reason to be astonished at your speech,

does not wish my eyes to injure any one; if they have offended you in

anything, I can assure you I did not intend it.

LEL. Oh! no, their glances are too pleasing to do me an injury. I count

it my chief glory to cherish the wounds they give me; and...

MASC. You are soaring rather too high; this style is by no means what we

want now; let us make better use of our time; let us know of her quickly

what...

TRUF. (_Within_). Celia!

MASC. (_To Lelio_). Well, what do you think now?

LEL. O cruel mischance! What business has this wretched old man to

interrupt us!

MASC. Go, withdraw, I'll find something to say to him.

SCENE IV.--TRUFALDIN, CELIA, MASCARILLE, _and_ LELIO _in a

corner_.

TRUF. (_To Celia_). What are you doing out of doors? And what

induces you to go out,--you, whom I have forbidden to speak to any one?

CEL. I was formerly acquainted with this respectable young man; you have

no occasion to be suspicious of him.

MASC. Is this Signor Trufaldin?

CEL. Yes, it is himself.

MASC. Sir, I am wholly yours; it gives me extreme pleasure to have this

opportunity of paying my most humble respects to a gentleman who is

everywhere so highly spoken of.

TRUF. Your most humble servant.

MASC. Perhaps I am troublesome, but I have been acquainted with this

young woman elsewhere; and as I heard about the great skill she has in

predicting the future, I wished to consult her about a certain affair.

TRUF. What! Do you dabble in the black art?

CEL. No, sir, my skill lies entirely in the white.

[Footnote: The white art (_magie blanche_) only dealt with

beneficent spirits, and wished to do good to mankind; the black art

(_magie noire_) invoked evil spirits.]

MASC. The case is this. The master whom I serve languishes for a fair

lady who has captivated him. He would gladly disclose the passion which

burns within him to the beauteous object whom he adores, but a dragon

that guards this rare treasure, in spite of all his attempts, has

hitherto prevented him. And what torments him still more and makes him

miserable, is that he has just discovered a formidable rival; so that I

have come to consult you to know whether his love is likely to meet with

any success, being well assured that from your mouth I may learn truly

the secret which concerns us.

CEL. Under what planet was your master born?

MASC. Under that planet which never alters his love.

CEL. Without asking you to name the object he sighs for, the science

which I possess gives me sufficient information. This young woman is

high-spirited, and knows how to preserve a noble pride in the midst of

adversity; she is not inclined to declare too freely the secret

sentiments of her heart. But I know them as well as herself, and am

going with a more composed mind to unfold them all to you, in a few

words.

MASC. O wonderful power of magic virtue!

CEL. If your master is really constant in his affections, and if virtue

alone prompts him, let him be under no apprehension of sighing in vain:

he has reason to hope, the fortress he wishes to take is not averse to

capitulation, but rather inclined to surrender.

MASC. That's something, but then the fortress depends upon a governor

whom it is hard to gain over.

CEL. There lies the difficulty.

MASC. (_Aside, looking at Lelio_). The deuce take this troublesome

fellow, who is always watching us.

CEL. I am going to teach you what you ought to do.

LEL. (_Joining them_). Mr. Trufaldin, give yourself no farther

uneasiness; it was purely in obedience to my orders that this trusty

servant came to visit you; I dispatched him to offer you my services,

and to speak to you concerning this young lady, whose liberty I am

willing to purchase before long, provided we two can agree about the

terms.

MASC. (_Aside_). Plague take the ass!

TRUF. Ho! ho! Which of the two am I to believe? This story contradicts

the former very much.

MASC. Sir, this gentleman is a little bit wrong in the upper story: did

you not know it?

TRUF. I know what I know, and begin to smell a rat. Get you in (_to

Celia_), and never take such a liberty again. As for you two, arrant

rogues, or I am much mistaken, if you wish to deceive me again, let your

stories be a little more in harmony.

SCENE V.--LELIO, MASCARILLE.

MASC. He is quite right. To speak plainly, I wish he had given us both a

sound cudgelling. What was the good of showing yourself, and, like a

Blunderer, coming and giving the lie to all that I had been saying?

LEL. I thought I did right.

MASC. To be sure. But this action ought not to surprise me. You possess

so many counterplots that your freaks no longer astonish anybody.

LEL. Good Heavens! How I am scolded for nothing! Is the harm so great

that it cannot be remedied? However, if you cannot place Celia in my

hands, you may at least contrive to frustrate all Leander's schemes, so

that he cannot purchase this fair one before me. But lest my presence

should be further mischievous, I leave you.

MASC. (_Alone_). Very well. To say the truth, money would be a sure

and staunch agent in our cause; but as this mainspring is lacking, we

must employ some other means.

SCENE VI.--ANSELMO, MASCARILLE.

ANS. Upon my word, this is a strange age we live in; I am ashamed of it;

there was never such a fondness for money, and never so much difficulty

in getting one's own. Notwithstanding all the care a person may take,

debts now-a-days are like children, begot with pleasure, but brought

forth with pain. It is pleasant for money to come into our purse; but

when the time comes that we have to give it back, then the pangs of

labour seize us. Enough of this, it is no trifle to receive at last two

thousand francs which have been owing upwards of two years. What luck!

MASC. (_Aside_). Good Heavens! What fine game to shoot flying!

Hist, let me see if I cannot wheedle him a little. I know with what

speeches to soothe him. (_Joining him_). Anselmo I have just

seen....

ANS. Who, prithee?

MASC. Your Nerina.

ANS. What does the cruel fair one say about me?

MASC. Say? that she is passionately fond of you.

ANS. Is she?

MASC. She loves you so that I very much pity her.

ANS. 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?

MASC. Answer? Why only nonsense, with which he almost drives me mad. Not

but that at the bottom of his heart he retains those principles of

honour which he derives from you; but reason, at present, does not sway

him. If I might be allowed to speak freely, you should soon see him

submissive without much trouble.

PAND. Speak out.

MASC. It is a secret which would have serious consequences for me,

should it be discovered; but I am quite sure I can confide it to your

prudence.

PAND. You are right.

MASC. Know then that your wishes are sacrificed to the love your son has

for a certain slave.

PAND. I have been told so before; but to hear it from your mouth pleases

me.

MASC. I leave you to judge whether I am his secret confidant...

PAND. I am truly glad of it.

MASC. However, do you wish to bring him back to his duty, without any

public scandal? You must... (I am in perpetual fear lest anybody should

surprise us. Should he learn what I have told you, I should be a dead

man.) You must, as I was saying, to break off this business, secretly

purchase this slave, whom he so much idolizes, and send her into another

country. Anselmo is very intimate with Trufaldin; let him go and buy her

for you this very morning. Then, if you put her into my hands, I know

some merchants, and promise you to sell her for the money she costs you,

and to send her out of the way in spite of your son. For, if you would

have him disposed for matrimony, we must divert this growing passion.

Moreover, even if he were resolved to wear the yoke you design for him,

yet this other girl might revive his foolish fancy, and prejudice him

anew against matrimony.

PAND. Very well argued. I like this advice much. Here comes Anselmo; go,

I will do my utmost quickly to obtain possession of this troublesome

slave, when I will put her into your hands to finish the rest.

MASC. (_Alone_). Bravo, I will go and tell my master of this. Long

live all knavery, and knaves also!

SCENE X.--HIPPOLYTA, MASCARILLE.

HIPP. Ay, traitor, is it thus that you serve me? I overheard all, and

have myself been a witness of your treachery. Had I not, could I have

suspected this? You are an arrant rogue, and you have deceived me. You

promised me, you miscreant, and I expected, that you would assist me in

my passion for Leander, that your skill and your management should find

means to break off my match with Lelio; that you would free me from my

father's project; and yet you are doing quite the contrary. But you will

find yourself mistaken. I know a sure method of breaking off the

purchase you have been urging Pandolphus to make, and I will go

immediately....

MASC. How impetuous you are! You fly into a passion in a moment; without

inquiring whether you are right or wrong, you fall foul of me. I am in

the wrong, and I ought to make your words true, without finishing what I

began, since you abuse me so outrageously.

HIPP. By what illusion do you think to dazzle my eyes, traitor? Can you

deny what I have just now heard?

MASC. No; but you must know that all this plotting was only contrived to

serve you; that this cunning advice, which appeared so sincere, tends to

make both old men fall into the snare; that all the pains I have taken

for getting Celia into my hands, through their means, was to secure her

for Lelio, and to arrange matters so that Anselmo, in the very height of

passion, and finding himself disappointed of his son-in-law, might make

choice of Leander.

HIPP. What! This admirable scheme, which has angered me so much, was all

for my sake, Mascarille?

MASC. Yes, for your sake; but since I find my good offices meet with so

bad a return,--since I have thus to bear your caprices, and as a reward

for my services, you come here with a haughty air, and call me knave,

cur, and cheat, I shall presently go, correct the mistake I have

committed, and undo what I had undertaken to perform.

HIPP. (_Holding him_.) Nay, do not be so severe upon me, and

forgive these outbursts of a sudden passion.

MASC. No, no; let me go. I have it yet in my power to set aside the

scheme which offends you so much. Henceforth you shall have no occasion

to complain of my zeal. Yes, you shall have my master, I promise you.

HIPP. My good Mascarille, be not in such a passion. I judged you ill; I

was wrong; I confess I was. (_Pulls out her purse_). But I intend

to atone for my fault with this. Could you find it in your heart to

abandon me thus?

MASC. No, I cannot, do what I will. But your impetuosity was very

shocking. Let me tell you that nothing offends a noble mind so much as

the smallest imputation upon its honour.

HIPP. It is true; I treated you to some very harsh language, but here

are two louis to heal your wounds.

MASC. Oh! all this is nothing. I am very sensitive on this point; but my

passion begins to cool a little already. We must bear with the failings

of our friends.

HIPP. Can you, then, bring about what I so earnestly wish for? Do you

believe your daring projects will be as favourable to my passion as you

imagine?

MASC. Do not make yourself uneasy on that account. I have several irons

in the fire, and though this stratagem should fail us, what this cannot

do, another shall.

HIPP. Depend upon it, Hippolyta will at least not be ungrateful.

MASC. It is not the hope of gain that makes me act.

HIPP. Your master beckons and wishes to speak with you. I will leave

you, but remember to do what you can for me.

SCENE XI.--LELIO, MASCARILLE.

LEL. What the deuce are you doing there? You promised to perform

wonders, but I am sure your dilatory ways are unparalleled. Had not my

good genius inspired me, my happiness had been already wholly

overthrown. There was an end to my good fortune, my joy. I should have

been a prey to eternal grief; in short, had I not gone to this place in

the very nick of time, Anselmo would have got possession of the captive,

and I should have been deprived of her. He was carrying her home, but I

parried the thrust, warded off the blow, and so worked upon Trufaldin's

fears as to make him keep the girl.

MASC. This is the third time! When we come to ten we will score. It was

by my contrivance, incorrigible scatterbrains, that Anselmo undertook

this desirable purchase; she should have been placed into my own hands,

but your cursed officiousness knocks everything on the head again. Do

you think I shall still labour to serve your love? I would sooner a

hundred times become a fat old woman, a dolt, a cabbage, a lantern, a

wehrwolf, and that Satan should twist your neck!

LEL. (_Alone_.) I must take him to some tavern and let him vent his

passion on the bottles and glasses.

ACT II.

SCENE I.--LELIO, MASCARILLE.

MASC. I have at length yielded to your desires. In spite of all my

protestations I could hold out no longer; I am going to venture upon new

dangers, to promote your interest, which I intended to abandon. So

tender-hearted am I! If dame nature had made a girl of Mascarille, I

leave you to guess what would have happened. However, after this

assurance, do not deal a back stroke to the project I am about to

undertake; do not make a blunder and frustrate my expectations. Then, as

to Anselmo, we shall anew present your excuses to him, in order to get

what we desire. But should your imprudence burst forth again hereafter,

then you may bid farewell to all the trouble I take for the object of

your passion.

LEL. No, I shall be careful, I tell you; never fear; you shall see....

MASC. Well, mind that you keep your word. I have planned a bold

stratagem for your sake. Your father is very backward in satisfying all

your wishes by his death. I have just killed him (in words, I mean); I

have spread a report that the good man, being suddenly smitten by a fit

of apoplexy, has departed this life. But first, so that I might the

better pretend he was dead, I so managed that he went to his barn. I had

a person ready to come and tell him that the workmen employed on his

house accidentally discovered a treasure, in digging the foundations. He

set out in an instant, and as all his people, except us two, have gone

with him into the country, I shall kill him to-day in everybody's

imagination and produce some image which I shall bury under his name. I

have already told you what I wish you to do; play your part well; and as

to the character I have to keep up, if you perceive that I miss one word

of it, tell me plainly I am nothing but a fool.

SCENE II.--LELIO, _alone_.

It is true, he has found out a strange way to accomplish my wishes

fully; but when we are very much in love with a fair lady, what would we

not do to be made happy? If love is said to be an excuse for a crime, it

may well serve for a slight piece of imposture, which love's ardour

to-day compels me to comply with, in expectation of the happy

consequences that may result from it. Bless me! How expeditious they

are. I see them already talking together about it; let us prepare to act

our part.

SCENE III.--MASCARILLE, ANSELMO.

MASC. The news may well surprise you.

ANS. To die in such a manner!

MASC. He was certainly much to blame. I can never forgive him for such a

freak.

ANS. Not even to take time to be ill.

MASC. No, never was a man in such a hurry to die.

ANS. And how does Lelio behave?

MASC. He raves, and has lost all command over his temper; he has beaten

himself till he is black and blue in several places, and wishes to

follow his father into the grave. In short, to make an end of this, the

excess of his grief has made me with the utmost speed wrap the corpse in

a shroud, for fear the sight, which fed his melancholy, should tempt him

to commit some rash act.

ANS. No matter, you ought to have waited until evening. Besides, I

should have liked to see Pandolphus once more. He who puts a shroud on a

man too hastily very often commits murder; for a man is frequently

thought dead when he only seems to be so.

MASC. I warrant him as dead as dead can be. But now, to return to what

we were talking about, Lelio has, resolved (and it will do him good) to

give his father a fine funeral, and to comfort the deceased a little for

his hard fate, by the pleasure of seeing that we pay him such honours

after his death. My master inherits a goodly estate, but as he is only a

novice in business, and does not see his way clearly in his affairs,

since the greater part of his property lies in another part of the

country, or what he has here consists in paper, he would beg of you,

after having entreated you to excuse the too great violence which he has

shewn of late, to lend him for this last duty at least....

ANS. You have told me so already, and I will go and see him.

MASC. (_Alone_). Hitherto, at least, everything goes on swimmingly;

let us endeavour to make the rest answer as well; and lest we should be

wrecked in the very harbour, let us steer the ship carefully and keep a

sharp look out.

SCENE IV.--ANSELMO, LELIO, MASCARILLE.

ANS. (_Coming out of Pandolphus' house_). Let us leave the house. I

cannot, without great sorrow, see him wrapped up in this strange manner.

Alas! in so short a time! He was alive this morning.

MASC. We go sometimes over a good deal of ground in a short time.

LEL. (_Weeping_). Oh!

ANS. Dear Lelio, he was but a man after all; even Rome can grant no

dispensation from death.

LEL. Oh!

ANS. Death smites men without giving warning, and always has bad designs

against them.

LEL. Oh!

ANS. That merciless foe would not loosen one grip of his murderous

teeth, however we may entreat him. Everybody must feel them.

LEL. Oh!

MASC. Your preaching will all be in vain; this sorrow is too deep-rooted

to be plucked up.

ANS. If, notwithstanding all these arguments, you will not cast aside

your grief, at least, my dear Lelio, endeavour to moderate it.

LEL. Oh!

MASC. He will not moderate it; I know his temper.

ANS. However, according to your servant's message, I have brought you

the money you want, so that you might celebrate your father's funeral

obsequies!

LEL. Oh! oh!

MASC. How his grief increases at these words! It will kill him to think

of his misfortune.

ANS. I know you will find by the good man's books that I owe him a much

larger sum, but even if I should not owe anything, you could freely

command my purse. Here it is; I am entirely at your service, and will

show it.

LEL. (_Going away_). Oh!

MASC. How full of grief is my master!

ANS. Mascarille, I think it right he should give me some kind of receipt

under his hand.

MASC. Oh!

ANS. Nothing in this world is certain.

MASC. Oh! oh!

ANS. Get him to sign me the receipt I require.

MASC. Alas! How can he comply with your desire in the condition he now

is? Give him but time to get rid of his sorrow; and, when his troubles

abate a little, I shall take care immediately to get you your security.

Your servant, sir, my heart is over full of grief, and I shall go to

take my fill of weeping with him. Hi! Hi!

ANS. (_Alone_). This world is full of crosses; we meet with them

every day in different shapes, and never here below...

SCENE V.--PANDOLPHUS, ANSELMO.

ANS. Oh Heavens! how I tremble! It is Pandolphus who has returned to the

earth! God grant nothing disturbed his repose! How wan his face is grown

since his death! Do not come any nearer. I beseech you; I very much

detest to jostle a ghost.

PAND. What can be the reason of this whimsical terror?

ANS. Keep your distance, and tell me what business brings you here. If

you have taken all this trouble to bid me farewell, you do me too much

honour; I could really have done very well without your compliment. If

your soul is restless, and stands in need of prayers. I promise you you

shall have them, but do not frighten me. Upon the word of a terrified

man, I will immediately set prayers agoing for you, to your very heart's

content.

"Oh, dead worship, please to go!

Heaven, if now you disappear,

Will grant you joy down there below,

And health as well, for many a year."

[Footnote: This seems to be an imitation of a spell, charm, or

incantation to lay the supposed ghost, which Anselmo says kneeling and

hardly able to speak for terror.]

PAND. (_Laughing_). In spite of my indignation, I cannot help

laughing.

ANS. It is strange, but you are very merry for a dead man.

PAND. Is this a joke, pray tell me, or is it downright madness to treat

a living man as if he were dead?

ANS. Alas! you must be dead; I myself just now saw you.

PAND. What? Could I die without knowing it?

ANS. As soon as Mascarille told me the news, I was ready to die of

grief.

PAND. But, really, are you asleep or awake? Don't you know me?

ANS. You are clothed in an aerial body which imitates your own, but

which may take another shape at any moment. I am mightily afraid to see

you swell up to the size of a giant, and your countenance become

frightfully distorted. For the love of God, do not assume any hideous

form; you have scared me sufficiently for the nonce.

PAND. At any other time, Anselmo, I should have considered the

simplicity which accompanies your credulity an excellent joke, and I

should have carried on the pleasant conceit a little longer; but this

story of my death, and the news of the supposed treasure, which I was

told upon the road had not been found at all, raises in my mind a strong

suspicion that Mascarille is a rogue, and an arrant rogue, who is proof

against fear or remorse, and who invents extraordinary stratagems to

compass his ends.

ANS. What! Am I tricked and made a fool of? Really, this would be a

compliment to my good sense! Let me touch him and be satisfied. This is,

indeed, the very man. What an ass I am! Pray, do not spread this story

about, for they will write a farce about it, and shame me for ever. But,

Pandolphus, help me to get the money back which I lent them to bury you.

PAND. Money, do you say? Oh! that is where the shoe pinches; that is the

secret of the whole affair! So much the worse for you. For my part, I

shall not trouble myself about it, but will go and lay an information

against this Mascarille, and if he can be caught he shall be hanged,

whatever the cost may be.

ANS. (_Alone_). And I, like a ninny, believe a scoundrel, and must

in one day lose both my senses and my money. Upon my word, it well

becomes me to have these gray hairs and to commit an act of folly so

readily, without examining into the truth of the first story I hear...!

But I see....

SCENE VI.--LELIO, ANSELMO.

LEL. Now, with this master-key, I can easily pay Trufaldin a visit.

ANS. As far as I can see, your grief has subsided.

LEL. What do you say? No; it can never leave a heart which shall ever

cherish it dearly.

ANS. I came back to tell you frankly of a mistake I made in the money I

gave you just now; amongst these louis-d'or, though they look very good,

I carelessly put some which I think are bad. I have brought some money

with me to change them. The intolerable audacity of our coiners is grown

to such a height in this state, that no one can receive any money now

without danger of his being imposed upon. It would be doing good service

to hang them all!

LEL. I am very much obliged to you for being willing to take them back,

but I saw none among them that were bad, as I thought.

ANS. Let me see the money; let me see it; I shall know them again. Is

this all?

LEL. Yes.

ANS. So much the better. Are you back again? my dear money! get into my

pocket. As for you, my gallant sharper, you have no longer got a penny

of it. You kill people who are in good health, do ye? And what would you

have done, then, with me, a poor infirm father-in-law? Upon my word, I

was going to get a nice addition to my family, a most discreet

son-in-law. Go, go, and hang yourself for shame and vexation.

LEL. (_Alone_). I really must admit I have been bit this time. What

a surprise this is! How can he have discovered our stratagem so soon?

SCENE VII.--LELIO, MASCARILLE.

MASC. What, you were out? I have been hunting for you everywhere. Well,

have we succeeded at last? I will give the greatest rogue six trials to

do the like. Come, give me the money that I may go and buy the slave;

your rival will be very much astonished at this.

LEL. Ah! my dear boy, our luck has changed. Can you imagine how ill

fortune has served me?

MASC. What? What can it be?

LEL. Anselmo having found out the trick, just now got back every sou he

lent us, pretending some of the gold-pieces were bad, and that he was

going to change them.

MASC. You do but joke, I suppose?

LEL. It is but too true.

MASC. In good earnest?

LEL. In good earnest; I am very much grieved about it. It will put you

into a furious passion.

MASC. Me, sir! A fool might, but not I! Anger hurts, and I am going to

take care of myself, come what will. After all, whether Celia be captive

or free, whether Leander purchases her or whether she remains where she

is, I do not care one stiver about it.

LEL. Ah! do not show such indifference, but be a little more indulgent

to my slight imprudence. Had this last misfortune not happened, you

would have confessed that I did wonders, and that in this pretended

decease I deceived everybody, and counterfeited grief so admirably that

the most sharp-sighted would have been taken in.

MASC. Truly you have great reason to boast.

LEL. Oh! I am to blame, and I am willing to acknowledge it; but if ever

you cared for my happiness, repair this mishap, and help me.

MASC. I kiss your hands, I cannot spare the time.

LEL. Mascarille, my dear boy!

MASC. No.

LEL. Do me this favour.

MASC. No, I will not.

LEL. If you are inflexible, I shall kill myself.

MASC. Do so--you may.

LEL. Can I not soften your hard heart?

MASC. No.

LEL. Do you see my sword ready drawn?

MASC. Yes.

LEL. I am going to stab myself.

MASC. Do just what you please.

LEL. Would you not regret to be the cause of my death?

MASC. No.

LEL. Farewell, Mascarille.

MASC. Good bye, Master Lelio.

LEL. What...?

MASC. Kill yourself quick. You are a long while about it.

LEL. Upon my word, you would like me to play the fool and kill myself,

so that you might get hold of my clothes.

MASC. I knew all this was nothing but a sham; whatever people may swear

they will do, they are not so hasty now-a-days in killing themselves.

SCENE VIII.--TRUFALDIN, LEANDER, LELIO, MASCARILLE.

(_Trufaldin taking Leander aside and whispering to him_).

LEL. What do I see? my rival and Trufaldin together! He is going to buy

Celia. Oh! I tremble for fear.

MASC. There is no doubt that he will do all he can; and if he has money,

he can do all he will. For my part I am delighted. This is a just reward

for your blunders, your impatience.

LEL. What must I do? Advise me.

MASC. I don't know.

LEL. Stay, I will go and pick a quarrel with him.

MASC. What good will that do?

LEL. What would you have me do to ward off this blow?

MASC. Well, I pardon you; I will yet cast an eye of pity on you. Leave

me to watch them; I believe I shall discover what he intends to do by

fairer means. (_Exit Lelio_).

TRUF. (_To Leander_). When you send by and by, it shall be done.

MASC. (_Aside and going out_). I must trap him and become his

confidant, in order to baffle his designs the more easily.

LEAND. (_Alone_). Thanks to Heaven, my happiness is complete. I

have found the way to secure it, and fear nothing more. Whatever my

rival may henceforth attempt, it is no longer in his power to do me any

harm.

SCENE IX.--LEANDER, MASCARILLE.

MASC. (_Speaking these words within, and then coming on the

stage_). Oh! oh! Help! Murder! Help! They are killing me! Oh! oh! oh!

oh! Traitor! Barbarian!

LEAND. Whence comes that noise? What is the matter? What are they doing

to you?

MASC. He has just given me two hundred blows with a cudgel.

LEAND. Who?

MASC. Lelio.

LEAND. And for what reason?

MASC. For a mere trifle he has turned me away and beats me most

unmercifully.

LEAND. He is really much to blame.

MASC. But, I swear, if ever it lies in my power I will be revenged on

him. I will let you know, Mr. Thrasher, with a vengeance, that people's

bones are not to be broken for nothing! Though I am but a servant, yet I

am a man of honour. After having been in your service for four years you

shall not pay me with a switch, nor affront me in so sensible a part as

my shoulders! I tell you once more, I shall find a way to be revenged!

You are in love with a certain slave, you would fain induce me to get

her for you, but I will manage matters so that somebody else shall carry

her off; the deuce take me if I don't!

LEAND. Hear me, Mascarille, and moderate your passion. I always liked

you, and often wished that a young fellow, faithful and clever like you,

might one day or other take a fancy to enter my service. In a word, if

you think my offer worthy of acceptance, and if you have a mind to serve

me, from this moment I engage you.

MASC. With all my heart, sir, and so much the rather because good

fortune in serving you offers me an opportunity of being revenged, and

because in my endeavours to please you I shall at the same time punish

that wretch. In a word, by my dexterity, I hope to get Celia for...

LEAND. My love has provided already for that. Smitten by a faultless

fair one, I have just now bought her for less than her value.

MASC. What! Celia belongs to you, then?

LEAND. You should see her this minute, if I were the master of my own

actions. But alas! it is my father who is so; since he is resolved, as I

understand by a letter brought me, to make me marry Hippolyta. I would

not have this affair come to his knowledge lest it should exasperate

him. Therefore in my arrangement with Trufaldin (from whom I just now

parted), I acted purposely in the name of another. When the affair was

settled, my ring was chosen as the token, on the sight of which

Trufaldin is to deliver Celia. But I must first arrange the ways and

means to conceal from the eyes of others the girl who so much charms my

own, and then find some retired place where this lovely captive may be

secreted.

MASC. A little way out of town lives an old relative of mine, whose

house I can take the freedom to offer you; there you may safely lodge

her, and not a creature know anything of the matter.

LEAND. Indeed! so I can: you have delighted me with the very thing I

wanted. Here, take this, and go and get possession of the fair one. As

soon as ever Trufaldin sees my ring, my girl will be immediately

delivered into your hands. You can then take her to that house, when...

But hist! here comes Hippolyta.

SCENE X.--HIPPOLYTA, LEANDER, MASCARILLE.

HIPP. I have some news for you, Leander, but will you be pleased or

displeased with it?

LEAND. To judge of that, and make answer off-hand, I should know it.

HIPP. Give me your hand, then, as far as the church, and I will tell it

you as we go.

[Footnote: Generally it was thought preferable, during Molière's

lifetime, to use the word _temple_ for "church," instead of

_église_.]

LEAND. (_To Mascarille_). Go, make haste, and serve me in that

business without delay.

SCENE XI.--MASCARILLE, _alone_.

Yes, I will serve you up a dish of my own dressing. Was there ever in

the world so lucky a fellow. How delighted Lelio will be soon! His

mistress to fall into our hands by these means! To derive his whole

happiness from the man he would have expected to ruin him! To become

happy by the hands of a rival! After this great exploit, I desire that

due preparations be made to paint me as a hero crowned with laurel, and

that underneath the portrait be inscribed in letters of gold: _Vivat

Mascarillus, rogum imperator_.

SCENE XII.--TRUFALDIN, MASCARILLE.

MASC. Soho, there!

TRUF. What do you want?

MASC. This ring, which you know, will inform you what business brings me

hither.

TRUF. Yes, I recognise that ring perfectly; stay a little, I will fetch

you the slave.

SCENE XIII.--TRUFALDIN, A MESSENGER, MASCARILLE.

MESS. (_To Trufaldin_). Do me the favor, sir, to tell me where

lives a gentleman....

TRUF. What gentleman?

MESS. I think his name is Trufaldin.

TRUF. And what is your business with him, pray? I am he.

MESS. Only to deliver this letter to him.

TRUF. (_Reads_). "_Providence, whose goodness watches over my

life, has just brought to my ears a most welcome report, that my

daughter, who was stolen from me by some robbers when she was four years

old, is now a slave at your house, under the name of Celia. If ever you

knew what it was to be a father, and if natural affection makes an

impression on your heart, then keep in your house this child so dear to

me, and treat her as if she were your own flesh and blood. I am

preparing to set out myself in order to fetch her. You shall be so well

rewarded for your trouble, that in everything that relates to your

happiness (which I am determined to advance) you shall have reason to

bless the day in which you caused mine_."

DON PEDRO DE GUSMAN,

From Madrid. Marquess of MONTALCANA

Though the gipsies can be seldom believed, yet they who sold her to me

told me she would soon be fetched by somebody, and that I should have no

reason to complain. Yet here I was going, all through my impatience, to

lose the fruits of a great expectation. (_To the Messenger_). Had

you come but one moment later, your journey would have been in vain; I

was going, this very instant, to give the girl up into this gentleman's

hands; but it is well, I shall take great care of her. (_Exit

Messenger_). (_To Mascarille_). You yourself have heard what

this letter says, so you may tell the person who sent you that I cannot

keep my word, and that he had better come and receive his money back.

MASC. But the way you insult him...

TRUF. Go about your business, and no more words.

MASC. (_Alone_). Oh, what a curse that this letter came now! Fate is

indeed against me. What bad luck for this messenger to come from Spain

when he was not wanted! May thunder and hail go with him! Never,

certainly, had so happy a beginning such a sad ending in so short a

time.

SCENE XIV.--LELIO _laughing_, MASCARILLE.

MASC. What may be the cause of all this mirth?

LEL. Let me have my laugh out before I tell you.

MASC. Let us laugh then heartily, we have abundant cause so to do.

LEL. Oh! I shall no longer be the object of your expostulations: you who

always reproach me shall no longer say that I am marrying all your

schemes, like a busy-body as I am. I myself have played one of the

cleverest tricks in the world. It is true I am quick-tempered, and now

and then rather too hasty; but yet, when I have a mind to it, I can plan

as many tricks as any man alive; even you shall own that what I have

done shows an amount of sharpness rarely to be met with.

MASC. Let us hear what tricks you have invented.

LEL. Just now, being terribly frightened on seeing Trufaldin along with

my rival, I was casting about to find a remedy for that mischief, when,

calling all my invention to my aid, I conceived, digested, and perfected

a stratagem, before which all yours, however vain you may be of them,

ought undoubtedly to lower their colours.

MASC. But what may this be?

LEL. May it please you to have a little patience. Without much delay I

invented a letter, written by an imaginary nobleman to Trufaldin,

setting forth that, having fortunately heard that a certain slave, who

lives in the latter's house, and is named Celia, was this grandee's

daughter formerly kidnapped by thieves, it was his intention to come and

fetch her; and he entreats him at least to keep her and take great care

of her; for, that on her account he was setting out from Spain, and

would acknowledge his civility by such handsome presents, that he should

never regret being the means of making him happy.

MASC. Mighty well.

LEL. Hear me out; here is something much cleverer still. The letter I

speak of was delivered to him, but can you imagine how? Only just in

time, for the messenger told me, had it not been for this droll device,

a fellow, who looked very foolish, was waiting to carry her off that

identical moment.

MASC. And you did all this without the help of the devil?

LEL. Yes. Would you have believed me capable of such a subtle piece of

wit? At least praise my skill, and the dexterity with which I have

utterly disconcerted the scheme of my rival.

MASC. To praise you as you deserve, I lack eloquence; and feel unequal

to the task. Yes, sufficiently to commend this lofty effort, this fine

stratagem of war achieved before our eyes, this grand and rare effect of

a mind which plans as many tricks as any man, which for smartness yields

to none alive, my tongue wants words. I wish I had the abilities of the

most refined scholars, so that I might tell you in the noblest verse, or

else in learned prose, that you will always be, in spite of everything

that may be done, the very same you have been all your life; that is to

say, a scatter-brain, a man of distempered reason, always perplexed,

wanting common sense, a man of left-handed judgment, a meddler, an ass,

a blundering, hare-brained, giddy fellow,--what can I think of? A... a

hundred times worse than anything I can say. This is only an abridgement

of your panegyric.

LEL. Tell me, what puts you in such a passion with me? Have I done

anything? Clear up this matter.

MASC. No, you have done nothing at all; but do not come after me.

LEL. I will follow you all over the world to find out this mystery.

MASC. Do so. Come on, then; get your legs in order, I shall give you an

opportunity to exercise them.

LEL. (_Alone_). He has got away from me! O misfortune which cannot

be allayed! What am I to understand by his discourse? And what harm can

I possibly have done to myself?

ACT III.

SCENE I.--MASCARILLE, _alone_

[Footnote: Compare Launcelot Gobbo's speech about his conscience in

Shakspeare's _Merchant of Venice_ (ii. 2).]

Silence, my good nature, and plead no more; you are a fool, and I am

determined not to do it. Yes, my anger, you are right, I confess it! To

be for ever doing what a meddler undoes, is showing too much patience,

and I ought to give it up after the glorious attempts he has marred. But

let us argue the matter a little without passion; if I should now give

way to my just impatience the world will say I sank under difficulties,

that my cunning was completely exhausted. What then becomes of that

public esteem, which extols you everywhere as a first-rate rogue, and

which you have acquired upon so many occasions, because you never yet

were found wanting in inventions? Honour, Mascarille, is a fine thing;

do not pause in your noble labours; and whatever a master may have done

to incense you, complete your work, for your own glory, and not to

oblige him. But what success can you expect, if you are thus continually

crossed by your evil genius? You see he compels you every moment to

change your tone; you may as well hold water in a sieve as try to stop

that resistless torrent, which in a moment overturns the most beautiful

structures raised by your art. Well, once more, out of kindness, and

whatever may happen, let us take some pains, even if they are in vain;

yet, if he still persists in baffling my designs, then I shall withdraw

all assistance. After all, our affairs are not going on badly, if we

could but supplant our rival, and if Leander, at last weary of his

pursuit, would leave us one whole day for my intended operations. Yes, I

have a most ingenious plot in my head, from which I expect a glorious

success, if I had no longer that obstacle in my way. Well, let us see if

he still persists in his love.

SCENE II.--LEANDER, MASCARILLE.

MASC. Sir, I have lost my labour; Trufaldin will not keep his word.

LEAND. He himself has told me the whole affair; but, what is more, I

have discovered that all this pretty rigmarole about Celia being carried

off by gypsies, and having a great nobleman for her father, who is

setting out from Spain to come hither, is nothing but a mere stratagem,

a merry trick, a made-up story, a tale raised by Lelio to prevent my

buying Celia.

MASC. Here is roguery for you!

LEAND. And yet this ridiculous story has produced such an impression on

Trufaldin, and he has swallowed the bait of this shallow device so

greedily, that he will not allow himself to be undeceived.

MASC. So that henceforth he will watch her carefully. I do not see we

can do anything more.

LEAND. If at first I thought this girl amiable, I now find her

absolutely adorable, and I am in doubt whether I ought not to employ

extreme measures to make her my own, thwart her ill fortune by plighting

her my troth, and turn her present chains into matrimonial ones.

MASC. Would you marry her?

LEAND. I am not yet determined, but if her origin is somewhat obscure,

her charms and her virtue are gentle attractions, which have incredible

force to allure every heart.

MASC. Did you not mention her virtue?

LEAND. Ha! what is that you mutter? Out with it; explain what you mean

by repeating that word "virtue."

MASC. Sir, your countenance changes all of a sudden; perhaps I had much

better hold my tongue.

LEAND. No, no, speak out.

MASC. Well, then, out of charity I will cure you of your blindness. That

girl....

LEAND. Proceed.

MASC. So far from being merciless, makes no difficulty in obliging some

people in private; you may believe me, after all she is not

stony-hearted, to any one who knows how to take her in the right mood.

She looks demure, and would fain pass for a prude; but I can speak of

her on sure grounds. You know I understand something of the craft, and

ought to know that kind of cattle.

LEAND. What! Celia?...

MASC. Yes, her modesty is nothing but a mere sham, the semblance of a

virtue which will never hold out, but vanishes, as any one may discover,

before the shining rays emitted from a purse.

[Footnote: This is an allusion to the rays of the sun, placed above the

crown, and stamped on all golden crown-pieces, struck in France from

Louis XI. (November 2, 1475) until the end of the reign of Louis XIII.

These crowns were called _écus au soleil_. Louis XIV. took much

later for his device the sun shining in full, with the motto, _Nec

pluribus impar_.]

LEAND. Heavens! What do you tell me? Can I believe such words?

MASC. Sir, there is no compulsion; what does it matter to me? No, pray

do not believe me, follow your own inclination, take the sly girl and

marry her; the whole city, in a body, will acknowledge this favour; you

marry the public good in her.

LEAND. What a strange surprise!

MASC. (_Aside_). He has taken the bait. Courage, my lad; if he does

but swallow it in good earnest, we shall have got rid of a very awkward

obstruction on our path.

LEAND. This astonishing account nearly kills me.

MASC. What! Can you...

LEAND. Go to the post-office, and see if there is a letter for me.

(_Alone, and for a while lost in thought_). Who would not have been

imposed upon? If what he says be true then there never was any

countenance more deceiving.

SCENE III.--LELIO, LEANDER.

LEL. What may be the cause of your looking so sad?

LEAND. Who, I?

LEL. Yes, yourself.

LEAND. I have, however, no occasion to be so.

LEL. I see well enough what it is; Celia is the cause of it.

LEAND. My mind does not run upon such trifles.

LEL. And yet you had formed some grand scheme to get her into your

hands; but you must speak thus, as your stratagem has miscarried.

LEAND. Were I fool enough to be enamoured of her, I should laugh at all

your finesse.

LEL. What finesse, pray?

LEAND. Good Heavens! sir, we know all.

LEL. All what?

LEAND. All your actions, from beginning to end.

LEL. This is all Greek to me; I do not understand one word of it.

LEAND. Pretend, if you please, not to understand me; but believe me, do

not apprehend that I shall take a property which I should be sorry to

dispute with you. I adore a beauty who has not been sullied, and do not

wish to love a depraved woman.

LEL. Gently, gently, Leander.

LEAND. Oh! how credulous you are! I tell you once more, you may attend

on her now without suspecting anybody. You may call yourself a

lady-killer. It is true, her beauty is very uncommon, but, to make

amends for that, the rest is common enough.

LEL. Leander, no more of this provoking language. Strive against me as

much as you like in order to obtain her; but, above all things, do not

traduce her so vilely. I should consider myself a great coward if I

could tamely submit to hear my earthly deity slandered. I can much

better bear your rivalry than listen to any speech that touches her

character.

LEAND. What I state here I have from very good authority.

LEL. Whoever told you so is a scoundrel and a rascal. Nobody can

discover the least blemish in this young lady; I know her heart well.

LEAND. But yet Mascarille is a very competent judge in such a cause; he

thinks her guilty.

LEL. He?

LEAND. He himself.

LEL. Does he pretend impudently to slander a most respectable young

lady, thinking, perhaps, I should only laugh at it? I will lay you a

wager he eats his words.

LEAND. I will lay you a wager he does not.

LEL. 'Sdeath! I would break every bone in his body should he dare to

assert such lies to me,

LEAND. And I will crop his ears, if he does not prove every syllable he

has told me.

SCENE IV.--LELIO, LEANDER, MASCARILLE.

LEL. Oh! that's lucky; there he is. Come hither, cursed hangdog!

MASC. What is the matter?

LEL. You serpent's tongue! so full of lies! dare you fasten your stings

on Celia, and slander the most consummate virtue that ever added lustre

to misfortune?

MASC. (_In a whisper to Lelio_). Gently; I told him so on purpose.

LEL. No, no; none of your winking, and none of your jokes. I am blind

and deaf to all you do or say. If it were my own brother he should pay

dear for it; for to dare defame her whom I adore is to wound me in the

most tender part. You make all these signs in vain. What was it you said

to him?

MASC. Good Heavens! do not quarrel, or I shall leave you.

LEL. You shall not stir a step.

MASC. Oh!

LEL. Speak then; confess.

MASC. (_Whispering to Lelio_). Let me alone. I tell you it is a

stratagem.

LEL. Make haste; what was it you said? Clear up this dispute between us.

MASC. (_In a whisper to Lelio_). I said what I said. Pray do not

put yourself in a passion.

LEL. (_Drawing his sword_). I shall make you talk in another

strain.

LEAND. (_Stopping him_). Stay your hand a little; moderate your

ardour.

MASC. (_Aside_). Was there ever in the world a creature so dull of

understanding?

LEL. Allow me to wreak my just vengeance on him.

LEAND. It is rather too much to wish to chastise him in my presence.

LEL. What! have I no right, then, to chastise my own servant?

LEAND. What do you mean by saying "your servant?"

MASC. (_Aside_). He is at it again! He will discover all.

LEL. Suppose I had a mind to thrash him within an inch of his life, what

then? He is my own servant.

LEAND. At present he is mine.

LEL. That is an admirable joke. How comes he to be yours? Surely...

MASC. (_In a whisper_). Gently.

LEL. What are you whispering?

MASC. (_Aside_). Oh! the confounded blockhead. He is going to spoil

everything, He understands not one of my signs.

LEL. You are dreaming, Leander. You are telling me a pretty story! Is he

not my servant?

LEAND. Did you not discharge him from your service for some fault?

LEL. I do not know what this means.

LEAND. And did you not, in the violence of your passion, make his back

smart most unmercifully?

LEL. No such thing. I discharge him! cudgel him! Either you make a jest

of me, Leander, or he has been making a jest of you.

MASC. (_Aside_). Go on, go on, numskull; you will do your own

business effectually.

LEAND. (_To Mascarille_). Then all this cudgelling is purely

imaginary?

MASC. He does not know what he says; his memory...

LEAND. No, no; all these signs do not look well for you. I suspect some

prettily contrived trick here; but for the ingenuity of the invention,

go your ways, I forgive you. It is quite enough that I am undeceived,

and see now why you imposed upon me. I come off cheap, because I trusted

myself to your hypocritical zeal. A word to the wise is enough.

Farewell, Lelio, farewell; your most obedient servant.

SCENE V.--LELIO, MASCARILLE.

MASC. Take courage, my boy, may fortune ever attend us I Let us draw and

bravely take the field; let us act _Olibrius, the slayer of the

innocents_.

[Footnote: Olibrius was, according to ancient legends, a Roman governor

of Gaul, in the time of the Emperor Decius, very cruel, and a great

boaster.]

LEL. He accused you of slandering...

MASC. And you could not let the artifice pass, nor let him remain in his

error, which did you good service, and which pretty nearly extinguished

his passion. No, honest soul, he cannot bear dissimulation. I cunningly

get a footing at his rival's, who, like a dolt, was going to place his

mistress in my hands, but he, Lelio, prevents me getting hold of her by

a fictitious letter; I try to abate the passion of his rival, my hero

presently comes and undeceives him. In vain I make signs to him, and

show him it was all a contrivance of mine; it signifies nothing; he

continues to the end, and never rests satisfied till he has discovered

all. Grand and sublime effect of a mind which is not inferior to any man

living! It is an exquisite piece, and worthy, in troth, to be made a

present of to the king's private museum.

LEL. I am not surprised that I do not come up to your expectations; if I

am not acquainted with the designs you are setting on foot, I shall be

for ever making mistakes.

MASC. So much the worse.

LEL. At least, if you would be justly angry with me, give me a little

insight into your plan; but if I am kept ignorant of every contrivance,

I must always be caught napping.

[Footnote: The original is, _je suis pris sans vert_, "I am taken

without green," because in the month of May, in some parts of France,

there is a game which binds him or her who is taken without a green leaf

about them to pay a forfeit.]

MASC. I believe you would make a very good fencing-master, because you

are so skilful at making feints, and at parrying of a thrust.

[Footnote: In the original we find _prendre les contretemps_, and

_rompre les mesures_. In a little and very curious book, "The Scots

Fencing Master, or Compleat Smal-Sword Man," printed in Edinburgh 1687,

and written by Sir William Hope of Kirkliston, the _contre-temps_

is said to be: "When a man thrusts without having a good opportunity, or

when he thrusts at the same time his adversarie thrusts, and that each

of them at that time receive a thrust." _Breaking of measure_ is,

according to the same booklet, done thus: "When you perceive your

adversary thrusting at you, and you are not very certain of the

_parade_, then _break his measure_, or make his thrust short

of you, by either stepping a foot or half a foot back, with the

_single stepp_, for if you judge your adversary's _distance or

measure_ well, half a foot will _break his measure_ as well as

ten ells."]

LEL. Since the thing is done, let us think no more about it. My rival,

however, will not have it in his power to cross me, and provided you

will but exert your skill, in which I trust...

MASC. Let us drop this discourse, and talk of something else; I am not

so easily pacified, not I; I am in too great a passion for that. In the

first place, you must do me a service, and then we shall see whether I

ought to undertake the management of your amours.

LEL. If it only depends on that, I will do it! Tell me, have you need of

my blood, of my sword?

MASC. How crack-brained he is! You are just like those swashbucklers who

are always more ready to draw their sword than to produce a tester, if

it were necessary to give it.

LEL. What can I do, then, for you?

MASC. You must, without delay, endeavour to appease your father's anger.

LEL. We have become reconciled already.

MASC. Yes, but I am not; I killed him this morning for your sake; the

very idea of it shocks him. Those sorts of jokes are severely felt by

such old fellows as he, which, much against their will, make them

reflect sadly on the near approach of death. The good sire,

notwithstanding his age, is very fond of life, and cannot bear jesting

upon that subject; he is alarmed at the prognostication, and so very

angry that I hear he has lodged a complaint against me. I am afraid that

if I am once housed at the expense of the king, I may like it so well

after the first quarter of an hour, that I shall find it very difficult

afterwards to get away. There have been several warrants out against me

this good while; for virtue is always envied and persecuted in this

abominable age. Therefore go and make my peace with your father.

LEL. Yes, I shall soften his anger, but you must promise me then...

MASC. We shall see what there is to be done. (_Exit Lelio_). Now,

let us take a little breath after so many fatigues; let us stop for a

while the current of our intrigues, and not move about hither and

thither as if we were hobgoblins. Leander cannot hurt us now, and Celia

cannot be removed, through the contrivance of...

SCENE VI.--ERGASTE, MASCARILLE.

ERG. I was looking for you everywhere to render you a service. I have a

secret of importance to disclose.

MASC. What may that be?

ERG. Can no one overhear us?

MASC. Not a soul.

ERG. We are as intimate as two people can be; I am acquainted with all

your projects, and the love of your master. Mind what you are about by

and by; Leander has formed a plot to carry off Celia; I have been told

he has arranged everything, and designs to get into Trufaldin's house in

disguise, having heard that at this time of the year some ladies of the

neighbourhood often visit him in the evening in masks.

MASC. Ay, well! He has not yet reached the height of his happiness; I

may perhaps be beforehand with him; and as to this thrust, I know how to

give him a counter-thrust, by which he may run himself through. He is

not aware with what gifts I am endowed. Farewell, we shall take a cup

together next time we meet.

SCENE VII.--MASCARILLE, alone.

We must, we must reap all possible benefit from this amorous scheme, and

by a dexterous and uncommon counterplot endeavour to make the success

our own, without any danger. If I put on a mask and be beforehand with

Leander, he will certainly not laugh at us; if we take the prize ere he

comes up, he will have paid for us the expenses of the expedition; for,

as his project has already become known, suspicion will fall upon him;

and we, being safe from all pursuit, need not fear the consequences of

that dangerous enterprise. Thus we shall not show ourselves, but use a

cat's paw to take the chesnuts out of the fire. Now, then, let us go and

disguise ourselves with some good fellows; we must not delay if we wish

to be beforehand with our gentry. I love to strike while the iron is

hot, and can, without much difficulty, provide in one moment men and

dresses. Depend upon it, I do not let my skill lie dormant. If Heaven

has endowed me with the gift of knavery, I am not one of those

degenerate minds who hide the talents they have received.

SCENE VIII.--LELIO, ERGASTE.

LEL. He intends to carry her off during a masquerade!

ERG. There is nothing more certain; one of his band informed me of his

design, upon which I instantly ran to Mascarille and told him the whole

affair; he said he would spoil their sport by some counter-scheme which

he planned in an instant; so meeting with you by chance, I thought I

ought to let you know the whole.

LEL. I am very much obliged to you for this piece of news; go, I shall

not forget this faithful service.

[_Exit Ergaste_.]

SCENE IX.--LELIO, alone.

My rascal will certainly play them some trick or other; but I, too, have

a mind to assist him in his project. It shall never be said that, in a

business which so nearly concerns me, I stirred no more than a post;

this is the time; they will be surprised at the sight of me. Why did I

not take my blunderbuss with me? But let anybody attack me who likes, I

have two good pistols and a trusty sword. So ho! within there; a word

with you.

SCENE X.--TRUFALDIN _at his window_, LELIO.

TRUF. What is the matter? Who comes to pay me a visit?

LEL. Keep your door carefully shut to-night.

TRUF. Why?

LEL. There are certain people coming masked to give you a sorry kind of

serenade; they intend to carry off Celia.

TRUF. Good Heavens!

LEL. No doubt they will soon be here. Keep where you are, you may see

everything from your window. Hey! Did I not tell you so? Do you not see

them already? Hist! I will affront them before your face. We shall see

some fine fun, if they do not give way.

[Footnote: This is one of the passages of Molière about which

commentators do not agree; the original is, _nous allons voir beau

jeu, si la corde ne rompt_. Some maintain that _corde_ refers to

the tight rope of a rope dancer; others that _corde_ means the

string of a bow, as in the phrase _avoir deux cordes a son arc_, to

have two strings (resources) to one's bow. Mons. Eugène Despois, in his

carefully edited edition of Molière, (i., 187), defends the latter

reading, and I agree with him.]

SCENE XI.--LELIO, TRUFALDIN, MASCARILLE, _and his company masked_.

TRUF. Oh, the funny blades, who think to surprise me.

LEL. Maskers, whither so fast? Will you let me into the secret?

Trufaldin, pray open the door to these gentry, that they may challenge

us for a throw with the dice.

[Footnote: The original has _jouer un momon_. Guy Miege, in his

Dictionary of barbarous French. London, 1679 has "_Mommon_, a

mummer, also a company of mummers; also a visard, or mask; also a let by

a mummer at dice."]

(_To Mascarille, disguised as a woman_). Good Heavens! What a

pretty creature! What a darling she looks! How now! What are you

mumbling? Without offence, may I remove your mask and see your face.

TRUF. Hence! ye wicked rogues; begone, ye ragamuffins! And you, sir,

good night, and many thanks.

SCENE XII.--LELIO, MASCARILLE.

LEL. (_After having taken the mask from Mascarille's face_).

Mascarille, is it you?

MASC. No, not at all; it is somebody else.

LEL. Alas! How astonished I am! How adverse is our fate! Could I

possibly have guessed this, as you did not secretly inform me that you

were going to disguise yourself? Wretch that I am, thoughtlessly to play

you such a trick, while you wore this mask. I am in an awful passion

with myself, and have a good mind to give myself a sound beating.

MASC. Farewell, most refined wit, unparalleled inventive genius.

LEL. Alas! If your anger deprives me of your assistance, what saint

shall I invoke?

MASC. Beelzebub.

LEL. Ah! If your heart is not made of stone or iron, do once more at

least forgive my imprudence; if it is necessary to be pardoned that I

should kneel before you, behold...

MASC. Fiddlesticks! Come, my boys, let us away; I hear some other people

coming closely behind us.

SCENE XIII.--LEANDER _and his company masked;_ TRUFALDIN _at the

window_.

LEAND. Softly, let us do nothing but in the gentlest manner.

TRUF. (_At the window_). How is this? What! mummers besieging my

door all night. Gentlemen, do not catch a cold gratuitously; every one

who is catching it here must have plenty of time to lose. It is rather a

little too late to take Celia along with you; she begs you will excuse

her to-night; the girl is in bed and cannot speak to you; I am very

sorry; but to repay you for all the trouble you have taken for her sake,

she begs you will be pleased to accept this pot of perfume.

LEAND. Faugh! That does not smell nicely. My clothes are all spoiled; we

are discovered; let us be gone this way.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.--LELIO, _disguised as an Armenian;_ MASCARILLE.

MASC. You are dressed in a most comical fashion.

LEL. I had abandoned all hope, but you have revived it again by this

contrivance.

MASC. My anger is always too soon over; it is vain to swear and curse, I

can never keep to my oaths.

LEL. Be assured that if ever it lies in my power you shall be satisfied

with the proofs of my gratitude, and though I had but one piece of

bread...

MASC. Enough: Study well this new project; for if you commit now any

blunder, you cannot lay the blame upon ignorance of the plot; you ought

to know your part in the play perfectly by heart.

LEL. But how did Trufaldin receive you?

MASC. I cozened the good fellow with a pretended zeal for his interests.

I went with alacrity to tell him that, unless he took very great care,

some people would come and surprise him; that from different quarters

they had designs upon her of whose origin a letter had given a false

account; that they would have liked to draw me in for a share in the

business, but that I kept well out of it; and that, being full of zeal

for what so nearly concerned him, I came to give him timely notice that

he might take his precautions. Then, moralizing, I discoursed solemnly

about the many rogueries one sees every day here below; that, as for me,

being tired with the world and its infamies, I wished to work out my

soul's salvation, retire from all its noise, and live with some worthy

honest man, with whom I could spend the rest of my days in peace; that,

if he had no objection, I should desire nothing more than to pass the

remainder of my life with him; that I had taken such a liking to him,

that, without asking for any wages to serve him, I was ready to place in

his hands, knowing it to be safe there, some property my father had left

me, as well as my savings, which I was fully determined to leave to him

alone, if it pleased Heaven to take me hence. That was the right way to

gain his affection. You and your beloved should decide what means to use

to attain your wishes. I was anxious to arrange a secret interview

between you two; he himself has contrived to show me a most excellent

method, by which you may fairly and openly stay in her house. Happening

to talk to me about a son he had lost, and whom he dreamt last night had

come to life again, he told me the following story, upon which, just

now, I founded my stratagem.

LEL. Enough; I know it all; you have told it me twice already.

[Footnote: Though Lelio says to Mascarille, "Enough, I know it all," he

has not been listening to the speech of his servant, but, in the

meanwhile, is arranging his dress, and smoothing his ruffles, and making

it clear to the spectator that he knows nothing, and that he will be a

bad performer of the part assigned to him. This explains the blunders he

makes afterwards in the second and fifth scenes of the same act.]

MASC. Yes, yes; but even if I should tell it thrice, it may happen

still, that with all your conceit, you might break down in some minor

detail.

LEL. I long to be at it already.

MASC. Pray, not quite so fast, for fear we might stumble. Your skull is

rather thick, therefore you should be perfectly well instructed in your

part. Some time ago Trufaldin left Naples; his name was then Zanobio

Ruberti. Being suspected in his native town of having participated in a

certain rebellion, raised by some political faction (though really he is

not a man to disturb any state), he was obliged to quit it stealthily by

night, leaving behind him his daughter, who was very young, and his

wife. Some time afterwards he received the news that they were both

dead, and in this perplexity, wishing to take with him to some other

town, not only his property, but also the only one who was left of all

his family, his young son, a schoolboy, called Horatio, he wrote to

Bologna, where a certain tutor, named Alberto, had taken the boy when

very young, to finish there his education; but though for two whole

years he appointed several times to meet them, they never made their

appearance. Believing them to be dead, after so long a time, he came to

this city, where he took the name he now bears, without for twelve years

ever having discovered any traces of this Alberto, or of his son

Horatio. This is the substance of the story, which I have repeated so

that you may better remember the groundwork of the plot. Now, you are to

personate an Armenian merchant, who has seen them both safe and sound in

Turkey. If I have invented this scheme, in preference to any other, of

bringing them to life again according to his dream, it is because it is

very common in adventures for people to be taken at sea by some Turkish

pirate, and afterwards restored to their families in the very nick of

time, when thought lost for fifteen or twenty years. For my part, I have

heard a hundred of that kind of stories. Without giving ourselves the

trouble of inventing something fresh, let us make use of this one; what

does it matter? You must say you heard the story of their being made

slaves from their own mouths, and also that you lent them money to pay

their ransom; but that as urgent business obliged you to set out before

them, Horatio asked you to go and visit his father here, whose

adventures he was acquainted with, and with whom you were to stay a few

days till their arrival. I have given you a long lesson now.

LEL. These repetitions are superfluous. From the very beginning I

understood it all.

MASC. I shall go in and prepare the way.

LEL. Listen, Mascarille, there is only one thing that troubles me;

suppose he should ask me to describe his son's countenance?

MASC. There is no difficulty in answering that! You know he was very

little when he saw him last. Besides it is very likely that increase of

years and slavery have completely changed him.

LEL. That is true. But pray, if he should remember my face, what must I

do then?

MASC. Have you no memory at all? I told you just now, that he has merely

seen you for a minute, that therefore you could only have produced a

very transient impression on his mind; besides, your beard and dress

disguise you completely.

LEL. Very well. But, now I think of it, what part of Turkey...?

MASC. It is all the same, I tell you, Turkey or Barbary.

LEL. But what is the name of the town I saw them in?

MASC. Tunis. I think he will keep me till night. He tells me it is

useless to repeat that name so often, and I have already mentioned it a

dozen times.

LEL. Go, go in and prepare matters; I want nothing more.

MASC. Be cautious at least, and act wisely. Let us have none of your

inventions here.

LEL. Let me alone! Trust to me, I say, once more.

MASC. Observe, Horatio, a schoolboy in Bologna; Trufaldin, his true name

Zanobio Ruberti, a citizen of Naples; the tutor was called Alberto...

LEL. You make me blush by preaching so much to me; do you think I am a

fool?

MASC. No, not completely, but something very like it.

SCENE II.--LELIO, _alone_.

When I do not stand in need of him he cringes, but now, because he very

well knows of how much use he is to me, his familiarity indulges in such

remarks as he just now made. I shall bask in the sunshine of those

beautiful eyes, which hold me in so sweet a captivity, and, without

hindrance, depict in the most glaring colours the tortures I feel. I

shall then know my fate.... But here they are.

SCENE III.--TRUFALDIN, LELIO, MASCARILLE.

TRUF. Thanks, righteous heaven, for this favourable turn of my fortune!

MASC. You are the man to see visions and dream dreams, since you prove

how untrue is the saying that dreams are falsehoods.

[Footnote: In French there is a play on words between _songes_,

dreams, and _mensonges_, falsehoods, which cannot be rendered into

English.]

TRUF. How can I thank you? what returns can I make you, sir? You, whom I

ought to style the messenger sent from Heaven to announce my happiness!

LEL. These compliments are superfluous; I can dispense with them.

TRUF. (_To Mascarille_). I have seen somebody like this Armenian,

but I do not know where.

MASC. That is what I was saying, but one sees surprising likenesses

sometimes.

TRUF. You have seen that son of mine, in whom all my hopes are centred?

LEL. Yes, Signor Trufaldin, and he was as well as well can be.

TRUF. He related to you his life and spoke much about me, did he not?

LEL. More than ten thousand times.

MASC. (_Aside to Lelio_). Not quite so much, I should say.

LEL. He described you just as I see you, your face, your gait.

TRUF. Is that possible? He has not seen me since he was seven years old.

And even his tutor, after so long a time, would scarcely know my face

again.

MASC. One's own flesh and blood never forget the image of one's

relations; this likeness is imprinted so deeply, that my father...

TRUF. Hold your tongue. Where was it you left him?

LEL. In Turkey, at Turin.

TRUF. Turin! but I thought that town was in Piedmont.

MASC. (_Aside_). Oh the dunce! (_To Trufaldin_). You do not

understand him; he means Tunis; it was in reality there he left your

son; but the Armenians always have a certain vicious pronunciation,

which seems very harsh to us; the reason of it is because in all their

words they change _nis_ into _rin_; and so, instead of saying

_Tunis_, they pronounce _Turin_.

TRUF. I ought to know this in order to understand him. Did he tell you

in what way you could meet with his father?

MASC. (_Aside_). What answer will he give?

[Footnote: Trufaldin having found out that Mascarille makes signs to his

master, the servant pretends to fence.]

(_To Trufaldin, after pretending to fence_). I was just practising

some passes; I have handled the foils in many a fencing school.

TRUF. (_To Mascarille_). That is not the thing I wish to know now.

(_To Lelio_). What other name did he say I went by?

MASC. Ah, Signor Zanobio Ruberti. How glad you ought to be for what

Heaven sends you!

LEL. That is your real name; the other is assumed.

TRUF. But where did he tell you he first saw the light?

MASC. Naples seems a very nice place, but you must feel a decided

aversion to it.

TRUF. Can you not let us go on with our conversation, without

interrupting us?

LEL. Naples is the place where he first drew his breath.

TRUF. Whither did I send him in his infancy, and under whose care?

MASC. That poor Albert behaved very well, for having accompanied your

son from Bologna, whom you committed to his care.

TRUF. Pshaw!

MASC. (_Aside_). We are undone if this conversation lasts long.

TRUF. I should very much like to know their adventures; aboard what ship

did my adverse fate...?

MASC. I do not know what is the matter with me, I do nothing but yawn.

But, Signor Trufaldin, perhaps this stranger may want some refreshment;

besides, it grows late.

LEL. No refreshment for me.

MASC. Oh sir, you are more hungry than you imagine.

TRUF. Please to walk in then.

LEL. After you, sir.

[Footnote: It shows that Lelio knows not what he is about when he does

the honours of the house to the master of the house himself, and forgets

that as a stranger he ought to go in first.]

MASC. (_To Trufaldin_). Sir, in Armenia, the masters of the house

use no ceremony. (_To Lelio, after Trufaldin has gone in_). Poor

fellow, have you not a word to say for yourself?

LEL. He surprised me at first; but never fear, I have rallied my

spirits, and am going to rattle away boldly..

MASC. Here comes our rival, who knows nothing of our plot. (_They go

into Trufaldin's house_).

SCENE IV.--ANSELMO, LEANDER.

ANS. Stay, Leander, and allow me to tell you something which concerns

your peace and reputation. I do not speak to you as the father of

Hippolyta, as a man interested for my own family, but as your father,

anxious for your welfare, without wishing to flatter you or to disguise

anything; in short, openly and honestly, as I would wish a child of mine

to be treated upon the like occasion. Do you know how everybody regards

this amour of yours, which in one night has burst forth? How your

yesterday's undertaking is everywhere talked of and ridiculed? What

people think of the whim which, they say, has made you select for a wife

a gipsy outcast, a strolling wench, whose noble occupation was only

begging? I really blushed for you, even more than I did for myself, who

am also compromised by this public scandal. Yes, I am compromised, I

say, I whose daughter, being engaged to you, cannot bear to see her

slighted, without taking offence at it. For shame, Leander; arise from

your humiliation; consider well your infatuation; if none of us are wise

at all times, yet the shortest errors are always the best. When a man

receives no dowry with his wife, but beauty only, repentance follows

soon after wedlock; and the handsomest woman in the world can hardly

defend herself against a lukewarmness caused by possession. I repeat it,

those fervent raptures, those youthful ardours and ecstacies, may make

us pass a few agreeable nights, but this bliss is not at all lasting,

and as our passions grow cool, very unpleasant days follow those

pleasant nights; hence proceed cares, anxieties, miseries, sons

disinherited through their fathers' wrath.

LEAND. All that I now hear from you is no more than what my own reason

has already suggested to me. I know how much I am obliged to you for the

great honour you are inclined to pay me, and of which I am unworthy. In

spite of the passion which sways me, I have ever retained a just sense

of your daughter's merit and virtue: therefore I will endeavour...

ANS. Somebody is opening this door; let us retire to a distance, lest

some contagion spreads from it, which may attack you suddenly.

SCENE V.--LELIO, MASCARILLE.

MASC. We shall soon see our roguery miscarry if you persist in such

palpable blunders.

LEL. Must I always hear your reprimands? What can you complain of? Have

I not done admirably since...?

MASC. Only middling; for example, you called the Turks heretics, and you

affirmed, on your corporal oath, that they worshipped the sun and moon

as their gods. Let that pass. What vexes me most is that, when you are

with Celia, you strangely forget yourself; your love is like porridge,

which by too fierce a fire swells, mounts up to the brim, and runs over

everywhere.

LEL. Could any one be more reserved? As yet I have hardly spoken to her.

MASC. You are right! but it is not enough to be silent; you had not been

a moment at table till your gestures roused more suspicion than other

people would have excited in a whole twelvemonth.

LEL. How so?

MASC. How so? Everybody might have seen it. At table, where Trufaldin

made her sit down, you never kept your eyes off her, blushed, looked

quite silly, cast sheep's eyes at her, without ever minding what you

were helped to; you were never thirsty but when she drank, and took the

glass eagerly from her hands; and without rinsing it, or throwing a drop

of it away, you drank what she left in it, and seemed to choose in

preference that side of the glass which her lips had touched; upon every

piece which her slender hand had touched, or which she had bit, you laid

your paw as quickly as a cat does upon a mouse, and you swallowed it as

glibly as if you were a regular glutton. Then, besides all this, you

made an intolerable noise, shuffling with your feet under the table, for

which Trufaldin, who received two lusty kicks, twice punished a couple

of innocent dogs, who would have growled at you if they dared; and yet,

in spite of all this, you say you behaved finely! For my part I sat upon

thorns all the time; notwithstanding the cold, I feel even now in a

perspiration. I hung over you just as a bowler does over his bowl after

he has thrown it, and thought to restrain your actions by contorting my

body ever so many times.

LEL. Lack-a day! how easy it is for you to condemn things of which you

do not feel the enchanting cause. In order to humour you for once I

have, nevertheless, a good mind to put a restraint upon that love which

sways me. Henceforth...

SCENE VI.--TRUFALDIN, LELIO, MASCARILLE.

MASC. We were speaking about your son's adventures.

TRUF. (_To Lelio_). You did quite right. Will you do me the favour

of letting me have one word in private with him?

LEL. I should be very rude if I did not. (_Lelio goes into Trufaldin's

House_).

SCENE VII.--TRUFALDIN, MASCARILLE.

TRUF. Hark ye! do you know what I have just been doing?

MASC. No, but if you think it proper, I shall certainly not remain long

in ignorance.

TRUF. I have just now cut off from a large and sturdy oak, of about two

hundred years old, an admirable branch, selected on purpose, of

tolerable thickness, of which immediately, upon the spot, I made a

cudgel, about ... yes, of this size (_showing his arm_); not so

thick at one end as at the other, but fitter, I imagine, than thirty

switches to belabour the shoulders withal; for it is well poised, green,

knotty, and heavy.

MASC. But, pray, for whom is all this preparation?

TRUF. For yourself, first of all; then, secondly, for that fellow, who

wishes to palm one person upon me, and trick me out of another; for this

Armenian, this merchant in disguise, introduced by a lying and pretended

story.

MASC. What! you do not believe...?

TRUF. Do not try to find an excuse; he himself, fortunately, discovered

his own stratagem, by telling Celia, whilst he squeezed her hand at the

same time, that it was for her sake alone he came disguised in this

manner. He did not perceive Jeannette, my little god-daughter, who

overheard every word he said. Though your name was not mentioned, I do

not doubt but you are a cursed accomplice in all this.

MASC. Indeed, you wrong me. If you are really deceived, believe me I was

the first imposed upon with his story.

TRUF. Would you convince me you speak the truth? Assist me in giving him

a sound drubbing, and in driving him away; let us give it the rascal

well, and then I will acquit you of all participation in this piece of

rascality.

MASC. Ay, ay, with all my soul. I will dust his jacket for him so

soundly, that you shall see I had no hand in this matter.

(_Aside_). Ah! you shall have a good licking, Mister Armenian, who

always spoil everything.

SCENE VIII.--LELIO, TRUFALDIN, MASCARILLE.

TRUF. (_Knocks at his door, and then addresses Lelio_). A word with

you, if you please. So, Mr. Cheat, you have the assurance to fool a

respectable man, and make game of him?

MASC. To pretend to have seen his son abroad, in order to get the more

easily into his house!

TRUF. (_Beating Lelio_). Go away, go away immediately.

LEL. (_To Mascarille, who beats him likewise_). Oh! you scoundrel!

MASC. It is thus that rogues...

LEL. Villain!

MASC. Are served here. Keep that for my sake!

LEL. What? Is a gentleman...?

MASC. (_Beating him and driving him off). March off, begone, I tell

you, or I shall break all the bones in your body.

TRUF. I am delighted with this; come in, I am satisfied. (_Mascarille

follows Trufaldin into his house_).

LEL. (_Returning_). This to me! To be thus affronted by a servant!

Could I have thought the wretch would have dared thus to ill-treat his

master?

MASC. (_From Trufaldin's window_). May I take the liberty to ask

how your shoulders are?

LEL. What! Have you the impudence still to address me?

MASC. Now see what it is not to have perceived Jeannette, and to have

always a blabbing tongue in your head! However, this time I am not angry

with you, I have done cursing and swearing at you; though you behaved

very imprudently, yet my hand has made your shoulders pay for your

fault.

LEL. Ha! I shall be revenged on you for your treacherous behaviour.

MASC. You yourself were the cause of all this mischief.

LEL. I?

MASC. If you had had a grain of sense when you were talking to your idol

you would have perceived Jeannette at your heels, whose sharp ears

overheard the whole affair.

LEL. Could anybody possibly catch one word I spoke to Celia?

MASC. And what else was the cause why you were suddenly turned out of

doors? Yes, you are shut out by your own tittle-tattle. I do not know

whether you play often at piquet, but you at least throw your cards away

in an admirable manner.

LEL. Oh! I am the most unhappy of all men. But why did you drive me away

also?

MASC. I never did better than in acting thus. By these means, at least,

I prevent all suspicion of my being the inventor or an accomplice of

this stratagem.

LEL. But you should have laid it on more gently.

MASC. I was no such fool! Trufaldin watched me most narrowly; besides, I

must tell you, under the pretence of being of use to you, I was not at

all displeased to vent my spleen. However, the thing is done, and if you

will give me your word of honour, never, directly or indirectly, to be

revenged on me for the blows on the back I so heartily gave you, I

promise you, by the help of my present station, to satisfy your wishes

within these two nights.

LEL. Though you have treated me very harshly, yet what would not such a

promise prevail upon me to do?

MASC. You promise, then?

LEL. Yes, I do.

MASC. But that is not all; promise never to meddle in anything I take in

hand.

LEL. I do.

MASC. If you break your word may you get the cold shivers!

LEL. Then keep it with me, and do not forget my uneasiness.

MASC. Go and change your dress, and rub something on your back.

LEL. (_Alone_). Will ill-luck always follow me, and heap upon me

one misfortune after another?

MASC. (_Coming out of Trufaldin's house_). What! Not gone yet?

Hence immediately; but, above all, be sure you don't trouble your head

about any thing. Be satisfied, that I am on your side; do not make the

least attempt to assist me; remain quiet.

LEL. (_Going_). Yes, to be sure, I will remain quiet.

MASC. (_Alone_). Now let me see what course I am to steer.

SCENE IX.--ERGASTE, MASCARILLE.

ERG. Mascarille, I come to tell you a piece of news, which will give a

cruel blow to your projects. At the very moment I am talking to you, a

young gipsy, who nevertheless is no black, and looks like a gentleman,

has arrived with a very wan-looking old woman, and is to call upon

Trufaldin to purchase the slave you wished to redeem. He seems to be

very anxious to get possession of her.

MASC. Doubtless it is the lover Celia spoke about. Were ever fortunes so

tangled as ours? No sooner have we got rid of one trouble than we fall

into another. In vain do we hear that Leander intends to abandon his

pursuit, and to give us no further trouble; that the unexpected arrival

of his father has turned the scales in favour of Hippolyta; that the old

gentleman has employed his parental authority to make a thorough change,

and that the marriage contract is going to be signed this very day; as

soon as one rival withdraws, another and a more dangerous one starts up

to destroy what little hope there was left. However, by a wonderful

stratagem, I believe I shall be able to delay their departure and gain

what time I want to put the finishing stroke to this famous affair. A

great robbery has lately been committed, by whom, nobody knows. These

gipsies have not generally the reputation of being very honest; upon

this slight suspicion, I will cleverly get the fellow imprisoned for a

few days. I know some officers of justice, open to a bribe, who will not

hesitate on such an occasion; greedy and expecting some present, there

is nothing they will not attempt with their eyes shut; be the accused

ever so innocent, the purse is always criminal, and must pay for the

offence.

ACT V.

SCENE I.--MASCARILLE, ERGASTE.

MASC. Ah blockhead! numskull! idiot! Will you never leave off

persecuting me?

ERG. The constable took great care everything was going on smoothly; the

fellow would have been in jail, had not your master come up that very

moment, and, like a madman spoiled your plot. "I cannot suffer," says he

in a loud voice, "that a respectable man should be dragged to prison in

this disgraceful manner; I will be responsible for him, from his very

looks, and will be his bail." And as they refused to let him go, he

immediately and so vigorously attacked the officers, who are a kind of

people much afraid of their carcasses, that, even at this very moment,

they are running, and every man thinks he has got a Lelio at his heels.

MASC. The fool does not know that this gipsy is in the house already to

carry off his treasure.

ERG. Good-bye, business obliges me to leave you.