Chapter 9

Valere, Mariane, Dorine

Valere. Gossip is singing a little ditty, My dear,--news to me and very pretty. Mariane. What? Valere. That you will marry Tartuffe. Mariane. It's true That my father has such a plan in view. Valere. Your father . . . Mariane. Has altered his inclination. Through him, all this has come to my attention. Valere. What? Seriously? Mariane. Yes, seriously. He wants this wedding--quite decidedly! Valere. And how does your heart respond to this plan, Madam? Mariane. I don't know. Valere. Your response is plain. You don't know? Mariane. No. Valere. No? Mariane. What do you recommend? Valere. I recommend that you accept this husband. Mariane. You recommend that? Valere. Yes. Mariane. Really? Valere. I do. A wonderful choice, well worth attending to. Mariane. Very well! That's advice, sir, that I accept. Valere. I doubt that taking it causes you regret. Mariane. No more regret than giving it causes you. Valere. I gave it thinking pleasure would ensue. Mariane. And I, I'll take it--simply to please you. Dorine [moving upstage]. Let's see what comes of this hullabaloo. Valere. So that's your love for me? And did you lie When you . . . Mariane. Please, let's not speak of days gone by. You've told me quite plainly that I must embrace As my mate the man they've chosen for that place, And now I say that I promise to obey Since you so kindly advise me that way. Valere. Don't excuse yourself through circumlocution: You've already made your own resolution, And you've seized upon a frivolous excuse To justify this lamentable ruse. Mariane. Quite true and well said. Valere. No doubt, and your soul Never lost, for love of me, its self-control. Mariane. Alas! Alas! You may as well think so. Valere. Yes, I may think so, but my broken heart Foresees you, too, suffering from Love's dart; I know to whom I'll take my heart and hand. Mariane. No doubt, and the love that merit can command... Valere. Dear God, let's leave merit to one side. I haven't much of it, as you have signified, But I know where there's a woman, soft-eyed And open-hearted . . . and this double-cross May make her more inclined to recompense my loss. Mariane. The loss isn't great; and your fickleness Will soon lead you to find a new mistress. Valere. I'll do my best--of that you may be sure! When one is forgotten, it's hard to endure, And so I, too, must struggle to forget. If I can't do it, I'll fake it . . . and yet I could never forgive my own servility If I kept loving one who abandoned me. Mariane. What a noble, uplifting sentiment! Valere. Quite so. Everyone should give it their assent. What? Do you think that I should perpetuate The flame of love that I have felt of late, And see you pass into another's arms Without letting my heart seek other charms? Mariane. No, indeed. It's what I want, and I vow I wish the thing were to happen right now. Valere. You do? Mariane. Yes. Valere. That's enough insults from you, Madam, and now I will bid you adieu. [He starts to leave; each time he does so, he quickly comes back.] Mariane. Very well. Valere [coming back]. At least remember that you Are the one who forced me down this avenue. Mariane. Yes. Valere. And that I am doing nothing more Than following the path you took before. Mariane. So be it. Valere [leaving]. Fine. I'm doing what you want. Mariane. Good. Valere [returning again]. I'm leaving forever--not some short jaunt. Mariane. The sooner the better. [He begins to leave and, when he is near the door, he returns.] Valere. Eh? Mariane. What? Valere. You called? Mariane. Me? No. Valere. Ah. Well then, I'll soon be abroad. Adieu, madam. [He slowly starts to leave.] Mariane. Adieu. Dorine [to Mariane]. I think, perchance, You've lost your mind through extravagance, And I've only allowed you to go on Like this to see what folly you might spawn. Hey! Valere! [She grabs him by the arm and he makes a show of resistance.] Valere. Huh? What do you want, Dorine? Dorine. Come here. Valere. No. I'm too mad. Don't intervene. She wishes me to drain this bitter cup. Dorine. Stop. Valere. No, can't you see that my mind's made up? Dorine. Ah! Mariane [aside]. My presence pains him, I drive him away. I think it would be best if I didn't stay. Dorine [She leaves Valere and runs after Mariane]. Now where are you going? Mariane. Let go. Dorine. Then return. Mariane. No, no, Dorine. It's none of your concern. Valere [aside]. I see that my presence causes her pain; It would be best if I freed her again. Dorine [She leaves Mariane and runs to Valere]. Wait! May you both be damned if I want this mess! Come here you two and settle this fracas. [She pulls them both together.] Valere [to Dorine]. But what's your plan? Mariane [to Dorine]. What do you wish to do? Dorine. To patch things up a bit between you two. [To Valere]. Are you out of your mind to fight in this way? Valere. Did you hear her treat me like a popinjay? Dorine [to Mariane]. Are you mad to have gotten so enraged? Mariane. Did you see what happened? It can't be assuaged. Dorine. You're both dunces. [To Valere] She wants nothing more Than to be the one woman you adore. [To Mariane] He loves you alone, and to make you his wife Is his only desire--I swear on my life! Mariane [to Valere]. How, then, could you give me such bad advice? Valere. And how could you demand it? Was that wise? Dorine. You're both insane. Now give your hands to me. [To Valere] Come on. Valere [giving his hand to Dorine]. What for? Dorine. There. [To Mariane] Now yours, don't you see. Mariane [giving her hand as well]. What's the point of all this? Dorine. Lord! Quick! Come on! Your love for each other can't be withdrawn. [Valere and Mariane hold hands for awhile without looking at each other.] Valere [turning toward Mariane]. Don't react so painfully by the book. Try giving a fellow a civil look. [Mariane turns her gaze on Valere and gives him a shy smile.] Dorine. All lovers are crazy! It's sad, but true. Valere [to Mariane]. Am I not right to complain about you? And to tell the truth, weren't you rather unkind To delight in trying to unsettle my mind? Mariane. What about you? Aren't you the bigger ingrate . . . ? Dorine. Let's wait until later for this debate And try instead to stop this marriage. Mariane. Tell us, then, what we can use for leverage. Dorine. We will wage warfare on every front. Your father is bluffing and playing a stunt. [To Mariane] But it might be better for you to seem To sweetly consent to his crazy scheme So that, whatever the future may bring, You can postpone and postpone this wedding. By gaining time, we gain our remedy. Sometimes you will feign a strange malady Whose sudden onset will bring some delay; Sometimes an ill-omen will cause you dismay: You saw a corpse and never felt queerer, Dreamt of muddy water, or broke a mirror. The point above all is that no one, I guess, Can force you to marry unless you say, "Yes." But our ship would sail in fairer weather If you were never seen talking together. [To Valere] Go, and without delay employ each friend To keep him on course toward what we intend. [To Mariane] We are going to seek help from his brother And we'll also recruit your step-mother. Farewell. Valere [to Mariane]. Whatever we attempt to do, In truth, my greatest hope resides in you. Mariane [to Valere]. Although I cannot answer for my father, I vow I'll never belong to another. Valere. How happy you have made me! If they ever . . . Dorine. Fie! You young lovers prattle forever! Be off, I say. Valere [going a step and then returning]. Finally . . . Dorine. What blather! You go off that way, and you go the other.