understand.
OCT. Had you but seen her, Scapin, as I did, you would have thought her admirable.
SCA. Oh! I have no doubt about it; and without seeing her, I plainly perceive that she must have been altogether charming.
OCT. Her tears were none of those unpleasant tears which spoil the face; she had a most touching grace in weeping, and her sorrow was a most beautiful thing to witness.
SCA. I can see all that.
OCT. All who approached her burst into tears whilst she threw herself, in her loving way, on the body of the dying woman, whom she called her dear mother; and nobody could help being moved to the depths of the heart to see a girl with such a loving disposition.
SCA. Yes, all that is very touching; and I understand that this loving disposition made you love her.
OCT. Ah! Scapin, a savage would have loved her.
SCA. Certainly; how could anyone help doing so?
OCT. After a few words, with which I tried to soothe her grief, we left her; and when I asked Léandre what he thought of her, he answered coldly that she was rather pretty! I was wounded to find how unfeelingly he spoke to me of her, and I would not tell him the effect her beauty had had on my heart.
SIL. (to OCTAVE). If you do not abridge your story, we shall have to stop here till to-morrow. Leave it to me to finish it in a few words. (To SCAPIN) His heart takes fire from that moment. He cannot live without going to comfort the amiable and sorrowful girl. His frequent visits are forbidden by the servant, who has become her guardian by the death of the mother. Our young man is in despair; he presses, begs, beseeches – all in vain. He is told that the young girl, although without friends and without fortune, is of an honourable family, and that, unless he marries her, he must cease his visits. His love increases with the difficulties. He racks his brains; debates, reasons, ponders, and makes up his mind. And, to cut a long story short, he has been married these three days.
SCA. I see.
SIL. Now, add to this the unforeseen return of the father, who was not to be back before two whole months; the discovery which the uncle has made of the marriage; and that other marriage projected between him and a daughter which Mr. Géronte had by a second wife, whom, they say, he married at Tarentum.
OCT. And, above all, add also the poverty of my beloved, and the impossibility there is for me to do anything for her relief.
SCA. Is that all? You are both of you at a great loss about nothing. Is there any reason to be alarmed? Are you not ashamed, you, Silvestre, to fall short in such a small matter? Deuce take it all! You, big and stout as father and mother put together, you can't find any expedient in your noddle? you can't plan any stratagem, invent any gallant intrigue to put matters straight? Fie! Plague on the booby! I wish I had had the two old fellows to bamboozle in former times; I should not have thought much of it; and I was no bigger than that, when I had given a hundred delicate proofs of my skill.
SIL. I acknowledge that Heaven has not given me your talent, and that I have not the brains like you to embroil myself with justice.
OCT. Here is my lovely Hyacintha!
SCENE III. – HYACINTHA, OCTAVE, SCAPIN, SILVESTRE
HYA. Ah! Octave, is what Silvestre has just told Nérine really true? Is your father back, and is he bent upon marrying you?
OCT. Yes, it is so, dear Hyacintha; and these tidings have given me a cruel shock. But what do I see? You are weeping? Why those tears? Do you suspect me of unfaithfulness, and have you no assurance of the love I feel for you?
HYA. Yes, Octave, I am sure that you love me now; but can I be sure that you will love me always?
OCT. Ah! could anyone love you once without loving you for ever?
HYA. I have heard say, Octave, that your sex does not love so long as ours, and that the ardour men show is a fire which dies out as easily as it is kindled.
OCT. Then, my dear Hyacintha, my heart is not like that of other men, and I feel certain that I shall love you till I die.
HYA. I want to believe what you say, and I have no doubt that you are sincere; but I fear a power which will oppose in your heart the tender feelings you have for me. You depend on a father who would marry you to another, and I am sure it would kill me if such a thing happened.
OCT. No, lovely Hyacintha, there is no father who can force me to break my faith to you, and I could resolve to leave my country, and even to die, rather than be separated from you. Without having seen her, I have already conceived a horrible aversion to her whom they want me to marry; and although I am not cruel, I wish the sea would swallow her up, or drive her hence forever. Do not weep, then, dear Hyacintha, for your tears kill me, and I cannot see them without feeling pierced to the heart.
HYA. Since you wish it, I will dry my tears, and I will wait without fear for what Heaven shall decide.
OCT. Heaven will be favourable to us.
HYA. It cannot be against us if you are faithful.
OCT. I certainly shall be so.
HYA. Then I shall be happy.
SCA. (aside). She is not so bad, after all, and I think her pretty enough.
OCT. (showing SCAPIN). Here is a man who, if he would, could be of the greatest help to us in all our trouble.
SCA. I have sworn with many oaths never more to meddle with anything. But if you both entreat me very much, I might…
OCT. Ah! if entreaties will obtain your help, I beseech you with all my heart to steer our bark.
SCA. (to HYACINTHA). And you, have you anything to say?
HYA. Like him, I beseech you, by all that is most dear to you upon earth, to assist us in our love.
SCA. I must have a little humanity, and give way. There, don't be afraid; I will do all I can for you.
OCT. Be sure that…
SCA. (to OCTAVE). Hush! (To HYACINTHA) Go, and make yourself easy.
SCENE IV. – OCTAVE, SCAPIN, SILVESTRE
SCA. (to OCTAVE). You must prepare yourself to receive your father with firmness.
OCT. I confess that this meeting frightens me before hand, for with him I have a natural shyness that I cannot conquer.
SCA. Yes; you must be firm from the first, for fear that he should take advantage of your weakness, and lead you like a child. Now, come, try to school yourself into some amount of firmness, and be ready to answer boldly all he can say to you.
OCT. I will do the best I can.
SCA. Well! let us try a little, just to see. Rehearse your part, and let us see how you will manage. Come, a look of decision, your head erect, a bold face.
OCT. Like this.
SCA. A little more.
OCT. So?
SCA. That will do. Now, fancy that I am your father, just arrived; answer me boldly as if it were he himself. – "What! you scoundrel, you good-for-nothing fellow, you infamous rascal, unworthy son of such a father as I, dare you appear before me after what you have done, and after the infamous trick you have played me during my absence? Is this, you rascal, the reward of all my care? Is this the fruit of all my devotion? Is this the respect due to me? Is this the respect you retain for me?" – Now then, now then. – "You are insolent enough, scoundrel, to go and engage yourself without the consent of your father, and contract a clandestine marriage! Answer me, you villain! Answer me. Let me hear your fine reasons"… – Why, the deuce, you seem quite lost.
OCT. It is because I imagine I hear my father speaking.
SCA. Why, yes; and it is for this reason that you must try not to look like an idiot.
OCT. I will be more resolute, and will answer more firmly.
SCA. Quite sure?
SIL. Here is your father coming.
OCT.