Мольер (Жан-Батист Поклен)
The Bores
LA M. These annoyances are mingled with the pleasures of life. All goes not, sir, exactly as we wish it. Heaven wills that here below everyone should meet bores; without that, men would be too happy.
ER. But of all my bores the greatest is Damis, guardian of her whom I adore, who dashes every hope she raises, and has brought it to pass that she dares not see me in his presence. I fear I have already passed the hour agreed on; it is in this walk that Orphise promised to be.
LA M. The time of an appointment has generally some latitude, and is not limited to a second.
ER. True; but I tremble; my great passion makes out of nothing a crime against her whom I love.
LA M. If this perfect love, which you manifest so well, makes out of nothing a great crime against her whom you love; the pure flame which her heart feels for you on the other hand converts all your crimes into nothing.
ER. But, in good earnest, do you believe that I am loved by her?
LA M. What! do you still doubt a love that has been tried?
ER. Ah, it is with difficulty that a heart that truly loves has complete confidence in such a matter. It fears to flatter itself; and, amidst its various cares, what it most wishes is what it least believes. But let us endeavour to discover the delightful creature.
LA M. Sir, your necktie is loosened in front.
ER. No matter.
LA M. Let me adjust it, if you please.
ER. Ugh, you are choking me, blockhead; let it be as it is.
LA M. Let me just comb…
ER. Was there ever such stupidity! You have almost taken off my ear with a tooth of the comb.
[Footnote: The servants had always a comb about them to arrange the wigs of their masters, whilst the latter thought it fashionable to comb and arrange their hair in public (see The Pretentious Young Ladies).]
LA M. Your rolls…
ER. Leave them; you are too particular.
LA M. They are quite rumpled.
ER. I wish them to be so.
LA M. At least allow me, as a special favour, to brush your hat, which is covered with dust.
ER. Brush, then, since it must be so.
LA M. Will you wear it like that?
ER. Good Heavens, make haste!
LA M. It would be a shame.
ER. (After waiting). That is enough.
LA M. Have a little patience.
ER. He will be the death of me!
LA M. Where could you get all this dirt?
ER. Do you intend to keep that hat forever?
LA M. It is finished.
ER. Give it me, then.
LA M. (Letting the hat fall). Ah!
ER. There it is on the ground. I am not much the better for all your brushing! Plague take you!
LA M. Let me give it a couple of rubs to take off…
ER. You shall not. The deuce take every servant who dogs your heels, who wearies his master, and does nothing but annoy him by wanting to set himself up as indispensable!
SCENE II. – ORPHISE, ALCIDOR, ÉRASTE, LA MONTAGNE
(Orphise passes at the foot of the stage; Alcidor holds her hand.)
ER. But do I not see Orphise? Yes, it is she who comes. Whither goeth she so fast, and what man is that who holds her hand? (He bows to her as she passes, and she turns her head another way).
SCENE III. – ÉRASTE, LA MONTAGNE
ER. What! She sees me here before her, and she passes by, pretending not to know me! What can I think? What do you say? Speak if you will.
LA M. Sir, I say nothing, lest I bore you.
ER. And so indeed you do, if you say nothing to me whilst I suffer such a cruel martyrdom. Give me some answer; I am quite dejected. What am I to think? Say, what do you think of it? Tell me your opinion.
LA M. Sir, I desire to hold my tongue, and not to set up for being indispensable.
ER. Hang the impertinent fellow! Go and follow them; see what becomes of them, and do not quit them.
LA M. (Returning). Shall I follow at a distance?
ER. Yes.
LA M. (Returning). Without their seeing me, or letting it appear that I was sent after them?
ER. No, you will do much better to let them know that you follow them by my express orders.
LA M. (Returning). Shall I find you here?
ER. Plague take you. I declare you are the biggest bore in the world!
SCENE IV. – ÉRASTE, alone
Ah, how anxious I feel; how I wish I had missed this fatal appointment! I thought I should find everything favourable; and, instead of that, my heart is tortured.
SCENE V. – LISANDRE, ÉRASTE
LIS. I recognized you under these trees from a distance, dear Marquis; and I came to you at once. As one of my friends, I must sing you a certain air which I have made for a little Couranto, which pleases all the connoisseurs at court, and to which more than a score have already written words.
[Footnote: See Vol. I., page 164, note 14.]
I have wealth, birth, a tolerable employment, and am of some consequence in France; but I would not have failed, for all I am worth, to compose this air which I am going to let you hear. (He tries his voice). La, la; hum, hum; listen attentively, I beg. (he sings an air of a Couranto). Is it not fine?
ER. Ah!
LIS. This close is pretty. (He sings the close over again four or five times successively). How do you like it?
ER. Very fine, indeed.
LIS. The steps which I have arranged are no less pleasing, and the figure in particular is wonderfully graceful. (He sings the words, talks, and dances at the same time; and makes Éraste perform the lady's steps). Stay, the gen-man crosses thus; then the lady crosses again: together: then they separate, and the lady comes there. Do you observe that little touch of a faint? This fleuret? These coupés running after the fair one.
[Footnote: A fleuret was an old step in dancing formed of two half coupées and two steps on the point of the toes.]
[Footnote: A coupé is a movement in dancing, when one leg is a little bent, and raised from the ground, and with the other a motion is made forward.]
Back to back: face to face, pressing up close to her. (After finishing). What do you think of it, Marquis?
ER. All those steps are fine.
LIS. For my part, I would not give a fig for your ballet-masters.
ER. Evidently.
LIS. And the steps then?
ER. Are wonderful in every particular.
LIS. Shall I teach you them, for friendship's sake?
ER. To tell the truth, just now I am somewhat disturbed …
LIS. Well, then, it shall be when you please. If I had those new words about me, we would read them together, and see which were the prettiest.
ER. Another time.
LIS. Farewell. My dearest Baptiste has not seen my Couranto; I am going to look for him. We always agree about the tunes; I shall ask him to score it.
(Exit, still singing.)
[Footnote: Jean Baptiste Lulli had been appointed, in the month of May of 1661, the same year that The Bores was first played, Surintendant et Compositeur de la musique de la chambre du Roi.]
SCENE VI. – ÉRASTE, alone
Heavens! must we be compelled daily to endure a hundred fools, because they are men of rank, and must we, in our politeness, demean ourselves so often to applaud, when they annoy us?
SCENE VII. – ÉRASTE, LA MONTAGNE
LA M. Sir, Orphise is alone, and is coming this way.
ER. Ah, I feel myself greatly disturbed! I still love the cruel fair one, and my reason bids me hate her.
LA M. Sir, your reason knows not what it would be at, nor yet what power a mistress has over a man's heart. Whatever just cause we may have to be angry with a fair lady, she can set many things to rights by a single word.
ER. Alas, I must confess it; the sight of her inspires me with respect instead of with anger.
SCENE VIII. – ORPHISE, ÉRASTE, LA MONTAGNE
ORPH. Your countenance seems to me anything but cheerful. Can it be my presence, Éraste, which annoys you? What is the matter? What is amiss? What makes you heave those sighs at my appearance?
ER. Alas! can you ask me, cruel one, what makes me so sad, and what will kill me? Is it not malicious to feign ignorance of what you have done to me? The gentleman whose conversation made you pass me just now…
ORPH. (Laughing). Does that disturb you?
ER. Do, cruel one, anew insult my misfortune. Certainly, it ill becomes you to jeer at my grief, and, by outraging my feelings, ungrateful woman, to take advantage of my weakness for you.
ORPH. I really must laugh, and declare that you are very silly to trouble yourself thus. The man of whom you speak, far from being able to please me, is a bore of whom I have succeeded in ridding myself; one of those troublesome and officious fools who will not suffer a lady to be anywhere alone, but come up at once, with soft speech, offering you a hand against which one rebels. I pretended to be going away, in order to hide my intention, and he gave me his hand as far as my coach. I soon got rid of him in that way, and returned by another gate to come to you.
ER. Orphise, can I believe what you say? And is your heart really true to me?
ORPH. You are most kind to speak thus, when I justify myself against your frivolous complaints. I am still wonderfully simple, and my foolish kindness…
ER. Ah! too severe beauty, do not be angry. Being under your sway, I will implicitly believe whatever you are kind enough to tell me. Deceive your hapless lover if you will; I shall respect you to the last gasp. Abuse my love, refuse me yours, show me another lover triumphant; yes, I will endure everything for your divine charms. I shall die, but even then I will not complain.
ORPH. As such sentiments rule your heart, I shall know, on my side …
