You acquired the portrait that you’re holding now.
SGANARELLE
(Aside:)
Why does he want to know? But let me see . . .
(He studies Lélie and the portrait which he is holding:)
Ah! Now his feverish air makes sense to me!
This clarifies his actions very nicely.
I’ve found my man—or my wife’s man, more precisely.
LÉLIE
Relieve my mind, and tell me from whose hand—
SGANARELLE
What makes you ask, I now well understand.
This pretty locket, in which your face is painted,
I got from one with whom you’re well acquainted;
And I am well aware, sir, of your dealings
With her, and of your ardent mutual feelings.
I don’t know if I have the honor, sir,
Of being known to you, by way of her,
But do me the honor to pursue no more
A love which, as her husband, I deplore.
When sacred marriage vows are lightly broken—
LÉLIE
What! She, you say, from whom you got this token—
SGANARELLE
Is my wife, and I’m her husband.
LÉLIE
Her husband? You?
SGANARELLE
Yes, I’m her husband, and her victim, too.
You know my grievance, which I’m off to share
With all her kinfolk.
Scene 10
Lélie, alone.
LÉLIE
Oh, this is hard to bear!
Those rumors that I heard were truthful, then;
She’s married, and to the ugliest of men!
Ah, traitress, even if you hadn’t sworn
Eternal love to me, you ought in scorn
To have refused that loutish fellow’s suit,
And chosen me instead of such a brute.
Yes, faithless woman . . . But now this bitter wrong,
And the strains of traveling so far and long,
Are all at once too much for me; they make
My heart grow feeble and my body quake.
Scene 11
Lélie, Sganarelle’s Wife.
WIFE
(Thinking herself alone at first, then perceiving Lélie:)
That traitor took my . . . Sir, are you ill, perhaps?
You look to me as if you might collapse.
LÉLIE
I’ve had a sudden dizzy spell, I fear.
WIFE
It wouldn’t do for you to faint out here.
Come into my house until it passes, do.
LÉLIE
I’ll accept your kindness, for a moment or two.
Scene 12
Sganarelle, a male Relative of Sganarelle’s Wife.
RELATIVE
Husbands do well to guard their honor; but surely
You bring these charges rather prematurely.
You’re very far, dear boy, from having built
A solid case which demonstrates her guilt.
One shouldn’t accuse a wife of this offense
Without strong proof and clinching evidence.
SGANARELLE
One has to catch her clinching, as it were.
RELATIVE
By judging hastily, we often err.
Who knows how she acquired that portrait? Can
You prove that she has ever met that man?
Clear up those questions; then, if you’re right, we’ll be
The first to punish her iniquity.
Scene 13
Sganarelle alone.
SGANARELLE
Well said: One should be cautious in such cases,
And take things slowly. Perhaps there was no basis
For the hornish visions that I had just now,
And all that nervous sweat upon my brow.
That portrait, after all, which so dismayed me,
Gives me no certain proof that she’s betrayed me.
I’ll be more careful . . .
Scene 14
Sganarelle, Sganarelle’s Wife showing Lélie to her door, Lélie.
SGANARELLE
(Aside:)
What’s this? My blood runs cold!
It’s no mere portrait that I now behold;
Look, there he is—the man himself, in person.
WIFE
Stay, sir, and rest, lest your condition worsen.
If you leave so soon, that seizure may return.
LÉLIE
No, no, I thank you for your kind concern,
And for your timely help in my distress.
SGANARELLE
(Aside:)
What help the trollop gave him, I can guess!
(Sganarelle’s Wife retires into her house.)
Scene 15
Sganarelle, Lélie.
SGANARELLE
(Aside:)
He’s noticed me; let’s see what he dares to say.
LÉLIE
(Aside:)
Ah, there’s that creature, vile in every way . . .
But no, in fairness I must curb my hate,
And blame my woes on nothing but my fate.
I shall but envy him his happy lot.
(Approaching Sganarelle:)
Ah, lucky man! What a splendid wife you’ve got!
Scene 16
Sganarelle, Célie at her window, seeing the departing Lélie.
SGANARELLE
(Alone:)
Well, that was unambiguous! Now I know.
His brutal frankness stuns me; it’s as though
A pair of horns had started from my head.
(Looking in the direction in which Lélie has gone:)
Such conduct, sir, is not at all well bred!
CÉLIE
(Aside, as she enters:)
I can’t believe it. Just now I saw Lélie;
But why was his return concealed from me?
SGANARELLE
(Not seeing Célie:)
“Ah, lucky man! What a splendid wife you’ve got!”
No, luckless me, to have wed a sly cocotte
Whose guilty passion, now revealed, has led
To my disgrace, and left me cuckolded!
As for her lover—after what he’d done,
Why did I stand there like a simpleton
And let him go? I should have smashed his hat,
Thrown mud upon his cloak, and after that
Roused all the neighborhood against that thief
Of honor, to give my fury some relief.
(During this speech of Sganarelle’s, Célie approaches bit by bit and waits for his transport to end, so that she may speak to him.)
CÉLIE
(To Sganarelle:)
If I may ask, how is it that you know
The man who spoke to you a moment ago?
SGANARELLE
Alas, I do not know the man, not I;
It’s my wife who knows him.
CÉLIE
You seem much troubled. Why?
SGANARELLE
My sorrow, I assure you, is not groundless;
I must lament, because my woe is boundless.
CÉLIE
What can have caused you so extreme a pain?
SGANARELLE
It’s of no piddling thing that I complain,
And surely there’s no man alive who in
My place would fail to feel a deep chagrin.
I am the model of a luckless spouse.
Poor Sganarelle, the honor of your house
Is lost! But honor’s nothing to the shame
Of having been deprived of my good name.
CÉLIE
But how?
SGANARELLE
In plain terms, madam, that popinjay
Has made a cuckold of me, and today
These eyes of mine have witnessed shocking proof
That he meets my wife beneath my very roof.
CÉL
IE
The man who just now—
SGANARELLE
Yes, he’s filched my honor.
My wife adores him, and he dotes upon her.
CÉLIE
I thought so! He returned in secrecy
So as to hide a base deceit from me;
I trembled when I saw him, for I knew
By instinct what has proven all too true.
SGANARELLE
It’s very good of you to take my part:
Not everybody has so kind a heart;
And some will view my martyrdom hereafter
Not with compassion but with mocking laughter.
CÉLIE
(Addressing the absent Lélie:)
What darker deed than yours could one commit?
What vengeance could suffice to punish it?
After this crime, too dreadful to forgive,
Have you not forfeited the right to live?
Gods! Can such vileness be?
SGANARELLE
Alas, it can.
CÉLIE
O traitor! Scoundrel! False and faithless man!
SGANARELLE
What a generous soul!
CÉLIE
No, no, Hell cannot offer
Such agonies as you deserve to suffer!
SGANARELLE
What eloquence!
CÉLIE
To think that you’d deceive
A heart so pure, devoted and naive!
SGANARELLE
Well said!
CÉLIE
A guiltless heart which never earned
The fate of being thus betrayed and spurned!
SGANARELLE
Too true.
CÉLIE
A heart . . . but ah, I’m overcome
By mortal sorrow, and am stricken dumb.
SGANARELLE
It moves me deeply that my plight should touch
You so, dear lady; but do not grieve too much.
CÉLIE
Don’t dream, however, that I shall be content
With sad reproaches and with vain lament:
I crave revenge, and I shall quickly take it;
That’s my resolve, and nothing now can shake it.
Scene 17
Sganarelle alone.
SGANARELLE
May Heaven keep her safe from harm! I find
Her wish to avenge me very sweet and kind.
Indeed, her generous anger at my plight
Prompts me to rouse myself, and show some fight,
For any man who suffers such affronts
Without a word is but a craven dunce.
Come then! I’ll track him down, and with a brave
Resolve avenge myself upon the knave.
I’ll teach you, churl, to laugh at folks’ expense,
And cuckold people with such insolence!
(Having taken several steps, he comes back again.)
But not so fast; let’s wait a bit. Good gracious,
That fellow looks hot-blooded and pugnacious,
And he might leave his mark, should I attack,
Not merely on my brow but on my back.
I can’t stand folk who have a violent streak,
And those I love are peaceable and meek;
I strike no man, for men can turn and hurt you,
And mild good nature is my greatest virtue.
And yet my honor says to me that I
Must take revenge for this affront, or die:
Well, rave on, dearest Honor, talk your fill;
I won’t obey you; damn me if I will!
When I have played the hero, and for reward
Have had my guts impaled upon a sword,
And gossips tell my death on every corner,
Will you be happy then, my dearest Honor?
The grave’s a dreary domicile, I’m told,
And just the place to catch one’s death of cold,
And as for me, I think, when all is said,
It’s better to be cuckolded than dead.
What harm does it do a fellow? Does it bow
His legs, or spoil his figure, I’d like to know?
A curse on the demented person who
First thought of such a stupid bugaboo,
And tied the honor of a man to what
His wife may do, if she’s a fickle slut.
The guilty one should pay in such a case;
Why must our honor suffer in her place?
The wrongs that others do are charged to us,
And if our spouses prove adulterous
We husbands are to shoulder all the blame:
They’re shameless, and it’s we who bear the shame!
This is a rank injustice, and should be
Corrected by some statute or decree.
Aren’t there sufficient woes and sufferings
That plague us in the normal course of things—
Don’t sickness, lawsuits, hunger, thirst and strife
Sufficiently beset us in this life—
Without our adding to them by conceiving
Another and quite baseless cause for grieving?
Away with this chimera and its fears;
I’ll groan no more, and shed no further tears.
If my wife’s done wrong, it’s she who should lament;
Why should I weep, when I am innocent?
In any case, it comforts me to be
A member of a wide fraternity,
For many husbands nowadays, I’ve heard,
When their wives cheat them, never say a word.
I’ll pick no quarrel, then, but wisely stifle
My ire at what is, after all, a trifle.
If I don’t seek vengeance, people may deride me,
But I’d look sillier with a sword inside me.
(Placing his hand on his breast:)
And yet I feel the stirrings of a passion
Which urges me to act in manly fashion:
Yes, I’m enraged; enough of cowardice;
I’ll make that low seducer pay for this:
As my first move, I’ll let the whole town know
That he’s sleeping with my wife, the so-and-so.
Scene 18
Gorgibus, Célie, Célie’s Maid.
CÉLIE
Yes, Father, I bow to your authority:
Do as you wish, sir, with my hand and me,
And let the marriage contract soon be signed;
I do my duty with a willing mind.
I have renounced my former feelings, and
In all things shall obey your least command.
GORGIBUS
Ah! That’s the kind of talk I like to hear.
By Jove, your words delight me so, my dear,
That these old legs might caper and cavort
If folk weren’t near to see me and make sport.
Come here, my daughter; come to my embrace.
In such behavior there is no disgrace;
A father’s free to give his daughter a kiss
Without the neighbors taking it amiss.
Haha! It makes me ten years younger to
Have heard such sweet, submissive words from you.
Scene 19
Célie, Célie’s Maid.
MAID
Your change of mind astounds me.
CÉLIE
When I apprise
You of the facts, you’ll say that I’ve been wise.
MAID
Perhaps I will.
CÉLIE
The fact is that Lélie
Has played me false; without informing me
Of his return, he—
MAID
Here he comes, however.
Scene 20
Lélie, Célie, Célie’s Maid.
LÉLIE
Before I take my leave of you forever,
I wish to tell you how my heart resents—
CÉLIE
How can you face me now? What impudence!
LÉL
IE
I see; I’m impudent! And I’d be a beast
To question your decision in the least!
Be happy, then, with this most brilliant man
You’ve chosen, and forget me if you can.
CÉLIE
I mean to be happy, traitor; and my chief
Desire is that my joy should cause you grief.
LÉLIE
What have I done, pray, to enrage you so?
CÉLIE
Ha! What have you done? As if you didn’t know.
Scene 21
Célie, Lélie, Sganarelle (armed from head to foot), Célie’s Maid.
SGANARELLE
War, bloody war! I warn the thief who dared
To steal my honor, that war is now declared!