MAR. Advise us.

ELI. Invent something to undo what you have done.

FRO. Rather a difficult piece of business. (_To_ MARIANNE) As far as your mother is concerned, she is not altogether unreasonable and we might succeed in making her give to the son the gift she reserved for the father. (_To_ CLeANTE) But the most disheartening part of it all is that your father is your father.

CLE. Yes, so it is.

FRO. I mean that he will bear malice if he sees that he is refused, and he will be in no way disposed afterwards to give his consent to your marriage. It would be well if the refusal could be made to come from him, and you ought to try by some means or other to make him dislike you, Marianne.

CLE. You are quite right.

FRO. Yes, right enough, no doubt. That is what ought to be done; but how in the world are we to set about it? Wait a moment. Suppose we had a somewhat elderly woman with a little of the ability which I possess, and able sufficiently well to represent a lady of rank, by means of a retinue made up in haste, and of some whimsical t.i.tle of a marchioness or viscountess, whom we would suppose to come from Lower Brittany. I should have enough power over your father to persuade him that she is a rich woman, in possession, besides her houses, of a hundred thousand crowns in ready money; that she is deeply in love with him, and that she would marry him at any cost, were she even to give him all her money by the marriage contract. I have no doubt he would listen to the proposal. For certainly he loves you very much, my dear, but he loves money still better. When once he has consented to your marriage, it does not signify much how he finds out the true state of affairs about our marchioness.

CLE. All that is very well made up.

FRO. Leave it to me; I just remember one of my friends who will do beautifully.

CLE. Depend on my grat.i.tude, Frosine, if you succeed. But, dear Marianne, let us begin, I beg of you, by gaining over your mother; it would be a great deal accomplished if this marriage were once broken off. Make use, I beseech you, of all the power that her tenderness for you gives you over her. Display without hesitation those eloquent graces, those all-powerful charms, with which Heaven has endowed your eyes and lips; forget not, I beseech you, those sweet persuasions, those tender entreaties, those loving caresses to which, I feel, nothing could be refused.

MAR. I will do all I can, and will forget nothing.

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

HAR. (_aside, and without being seen_). Ah! ah! my son is kissing the hand of his intended stepmother, and his intended stepmother does not seem much averse to it! Can there be any mystery in all this?

ELI. Here comes my father.

HAR. The carriage is quite ready, and you can start when you like.

CLE. Since you are not going, father, allow me to take care of them.

HAR. No, stop here; they can easily take care of themselves, and I want you.

SCENE III.--HARPAGON, CLeANTE.

HAR. Well, now, all consideration of stepmother aside, tell me what do you think of this lady?

CLE. What I think of her?

HAR. Yes, what do you think of her appearance, her figure, her beauty and intelligence?

CLE. So, so.

HAR. But still?

CLE. To tell you the truth, I did not find her such as I expected. Her manner is that of a thorough coquette, her figure is rather awkward, her beauty very middling, and her intelligence of the meanest order.

Do not suppose that I say this to make you dislike her; for if I must have a stepmother, I like the idea of this one as well as of any other.

HAR. You spoke to her just now, nevertheless....

CLE. I paid her several compliments in your name, but it was to please you.

HAR. So then you don't care for her?

CLE. Who? I? Not in the least.

HAR. I am sorry for it, for that puts an end to a scheme which had occurred to me. Since I have seen her here, I have been thinking of my own age; and I feel that people would find fault with me for marrying so young a girl. This consideration had made me determine to abandon the project, and as I had demanded her in marriage, and had given her my promise, I would have given her to you if it were not for the dislike you have for her.

CLE. To me?

HAR. To you.

CLE. In marriage?

HAR. In marriage.

CLE. It is true she is not at all to my taste; but, to please you, father, I will bring myself to marry her, if you please.

HAR. If I please! I am more reasonable than you think. I don't wish to compel you.

CLE. Excuse me! I will make an attempt to love her.

HAR. No, no; a marriage cannot be happy where there is no love.

CLE. That, my father, will, perhaps, come by and by, and it is said that love is often the fruit of marriage.

HAR. No, it is not right to risk it on the side of the man, and there are some troublesome things I don't care to run the chance of. If you had felt any inclination for her, you should have married her instead of me, but as it is, I will return to my first intention and marry her myself.

CLE. Well, father, since things are so, I had better be frank with you, and reveal our secret to you. The truth is that I have loved her ever since I saw her one day on the promenade. I intended to ask you today to let me marry her, and I was only deterred from it because you spoke of marrying her, and because I feared to displease you.

HAR. Have you ever paid her any visits?

CLE. Yes, father.

HAR. Many?

CLE. Yes; considering how long we have been acquainted.

HAR. You were well received.

CLE. Very well, but without her knowing who I was; and that is why Marianne was so surprised when she saw me today.

HAR. Have you told her of your love, and of your intention of marrying her?

CLE. Certainly, and I also spoke a little to the mother on the subject.