JAC. (_aside_). He is drawing in his horns. I will put on a bold face, and if he is fool enough to be afraid of me, I will pay him back somewhat. (_To_ VALeRE) Do you know, Mr. Grinner, that I am not exactly in a laughing humour, and that if you provoke me too much, I shall make you laugh after another fashion. (JACQUES _pushes_ VALeRE _to the farther end of the stage, threatening him_.)

VAL. Gently, gently.

JAC. How gently? And if it does not please me to go gently?

VAL. Come, come! What are you about?

JAC. You are an impudent rascal.

VAL. Master Jacques....

JAC. None of your Master Jacques here! If I take up a stick, I shall soon make you feel it.

VAL. What do you mean by a stick? (_Drives back_ JACQUES _in his turn_.)

JAC. No; I don't say anything about that.

VAL. Do you know, Mr. Conceit, that I am a man to give you a drubbing in good earnest?

JAC. I have no doubt of it.

VAL. That, after all, you are nothing but a scrub of a cook?

JAC. I know it very well.

VAL. And that you don't know me yet?

JAC. I beg your pardon.

VAL. You will beat me, you say?

JAC. I only spoke in jest.

VAL. I don't like your jesting, and (_beating_ JACQUES) remember that you are but a sorry hand at it.

JAC. (_alone_). Plague take all sincerity; it is a bad trade. I give it up for the future, and will cease to tell the truth. It is all very well for my master to beat me; but as for that Mr. Steward, what right has he to do it? I will be revenged on him if I can.

SCENE VII.--MARIANNE, FROSINE, MASTER JACQUES.

FRO. Do you know if your master is at home?

JAC. Yes, he is indeed; I know it but too well.

FRO. Tell him, please, that we are here.

SCENE VIII.--MARIANNE, FROSINE.

MAR. Ah! Frosine, how strange I feel, and how I dread this interview!

FRO. Why should you? What can you possibly dread?

MAR. Alas! can you ask me? Can you not understand the alarms of a person about to see the instrument of torture to which she is to be tied.

FRO. I see very well that to die agreeably, Harpagon is not the torture you would embrace; and I can judge by your looks that the fair young man you spoke of to me is still in your thoughts.

MAR. Yes, Frosine; it is a thing I do not wish to deny. The respectful visits he has paid at our house have left, I confess, a great impression on my heart.

FRO. But do you know who he is?

MAR. No, I do not. All I know is that he is made to be loved; that if things were left to my choice, I would much rather marry him than any other, and that he adds not a little to the horrible dread that I have of the husband they want to force upon me.

FRO. Oh yes! All those dandies are very pleasant, and can talk agreeably enough, but most of them are as poor as church mice; and it is much better for you to marry an old husband, who gives you plenty of money. I fully acknowledge that the senses somewhat clash with the end I propose, and that there are certain little inconveniences to be endured with such a husband; but all that won't last; and his death, believe me, will soon put you in a position to take a more pleasant husband, who will make amends for all.

MAR. Oh, Frosine! What a strange state of things that, in order to be happy, we must look forward to the death of another. Yet death will not fall in with all the projects we make.

FRO. You are joking. You marry him with the express understanding that he will soon leave you a widow; it must be one of the articles of the marriage contract. It would be very wrong in him not to die before three months are over. Here he is himself.

MAR. Ah! dear Frosine, what a face!

SCENE IX.--HARPAGON, MARIANNE, FROSINE.

HAR. (_to_ MARIANNE). Do not be offended, fair one, if I come to you with my gla.s.ses on. I know that your beauty is great enough to be seen with the naked eye; but, still, it is with gla.s.ses that we look at the stars, and I maintain and uphold that you are a star, the most beautiful and in the land of stars. Frosine, she does not answer, star, it seems to me, shows no joy at the sight of me.

FRO. It is because she is still quite awe-struck, and young girls are always shy at first, and afraid of showing what they feel.

HAR. (_to_ FROSINE). You are right. (_To_ MARIANNE) My pretty darling, there is my daughter coming to welcome you.

SCENE X.--HARPAGON, eLISE, MARIANNE, FROSINE.

MAR. I am very late in acquitting myself of the visit I owed you.

ELI. You have done what I ought to have done. It was for me to have come and seen you first.

HAR. You see what a great girl she is; but ill weeds grow apace.

MAR. (_aside to_ FROSINE). Oh, what an unpleasant man!

HAR. (_to_ FROSINE). What does my fair one say?

FRO. That she thinks you perfect.

HAR. You do me too much honour, my adorable darling.

MAR. (_aside_). What a dreadful creature!