Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
Molière & Charles Heron Wall
SCENE II.——CLÉANTE, ÉLISE,
CLE.
I am very glad to find you alone, sister. I longed to speak to you and to tell you a secret.
ELI.
I am quite ready to hear you, brother. What is it you have to tell me?
CLE.
Many things, sister, summed up in one word—love.
ELI.
You love?
CLE.
Yes, I love. But, before I say more, let me tell you that I know I depend on my father, and that the name of son subjects me to his will; that it would be wrong to engage ourselves without the consent of the authors of our being; that heaven has made them the masters of our affections, and that it is our duty not to dispose of ourselves but in accordance to their wish; that their judgment is not biassed by their being in love themselves; that they are, therefore, much more likely not to be deceived by appearances, and to judge better what is good for us; that we ought to trust their experience rather than the passion which blinds us; and that the rashness of youth often carries us to the very brink of dangerous abysses. I know all this, my sister, and I tell it you to spare you the trouble of saying it to me, for my love will not let me listen to anything, and I pray you to spare me your remonstrances.
ELI.
Have you engaged yourself, brother, to her you love?
CLE.
No, but I have determined to do so; and I beseech you once more not to bring forward any reason to dissuade me from it.
ELI.
Am I such a very strange person, brother?
CLE.
No, dear sister; but you do not love. You know not the sweet power that love has upon our hearts; and I dread your wisdom.
ELI.
Alas! my brother, let us not speak of my wisdom. There are very few people in this world who do not lack wisdom, were it only once in their lifetime; and if I opened my heart to you, perhaps you would think me less wise than you are yourself.
CLE.
Ah! would to heaven that your heart, like mine …
ELI.
Let us speak of you first, and tell me whom it is you love.
CLE.
A young girl who has lately come to live in our neighbourhood, and who seems made to inspire love in all those who behold her. Nature, my dear sister, has made nothing more lovely; and I felt another man the moment I saw her. Her name is Marianne, and she lives with a good, kind mother, who is almost always ill, and for whom the dear girl shows the greatest affection. She waits upon her, pities and comforts her with a tenderness that would touch you to the very soul. Whatever she undertakes is done in the most charming way; and in all her actions shine a wonderful grace, a most winning gentleness, an adorable modesty, a … ah! my sister, how I wish you had but seen her.
ELI.
I see many things in what you tell me, dear brother; and it is sufficient for me to know that you love her for me to understand what she is.
CLE.
I have discovered, without their knowing it, that they are not in very good circumstances, and that, although they live with the greatest care, they have barely enough to cover their expenses. Can you imagine, my sister, what happiness it must be to improve the condition of those we love; skilfully to bring about some relief to the modest wants of a virtuous family? And think what grief it is for me to find myself deprived of this great joy through the avarice of a father, and for it to be impossible for me to give any proof of my love to her who is all in all to me.
ELI.
Yes, I understand, dear brother, what sorrow this must be to you.
CLE.
It is greater, my sister, than you can believe. For is there anything more cruel than this mean economy to which we are subjected? this strange penury in which we are made to pine? What good will it do us to have a fortune if it only comes to us when we are not able to enjoy it; if now to provide for my daily maintenance I get into debt on every side; if both you and I are reduced daily to beg the help of tradespeople in order to have decent clothes to wear? In short, I wanted to speak to you that you might help me to sound my father concerning my present feelings; and if I find him opposed to them, I am determined to go and live elsewhere with this most charming girl, and to make the best of what Providence offers us. I am trying everywhere to raise money for this purpose; and if your circumstances, dear sister, are like mine, and our father opposes us, let us both leave him, and free ourselves from the tyranny in which his hateful avarice has for so long held us.
ELI.
It is but too true that every day he gives us more and more reason to regret the death of our mother, and that …
CLE.
I hear his voice. Let us go a little farther and finish our talk. We will afterwards join our forces to make a common attack on his hard and unkind heart.