ACT III.

Scene I.—Philibert and Marianna.

Mar. Excuse me for interrupting you again.
Phil. I suppose you have some new piece of nonsense?
Mar. I hope you will not again call me blockhead.
Phil. Not unless you utter more absurdities.
Mar. I have only to tell you I am just going to bemarried, and to bespeak your kindness.
Phil. Then you have determined to marry beforeyour mistress?
Mar. No, sir; she is to be married to-day, and Ishall be married to-morrow.
Phil. And you do not wish me to call you blockhead?
Mar. You still persist in concealing it from me?
Phil. Concealing what?
Mar. The marriage of my young lady.
Phil. Are you out of your senses?
Mar. Now, to show you I am not so foolish, I willown a fault I have committed, from curiosity. I stoodbehind the hangings, and heard Monsieur de la Cotterietalking with your daughter, and it is fixed on that theyare to be married privately this evening, and you havegiven five hundred guineas on account of her portion.
Phil. On account of her portion! [Laughing.]
Mar. Yes, I think on account of her portion; I sawthe guineas with my own eyes.
Phil. Yes, you are foolish, more foolish, most foolish.
Mar. [Aside.] He vexes me so I hardly know whatto do.
Phil. The Lieutenant, however, has acted very improperly;he ought not to have mentioned it to mydaughter, especially when there was danger of beingoverheard.
Mar. If you hide it from me for fear I shall make itpublic, you do wrong to my discretion.
Phil. Your discretion, indeed! you conceal yourself,listen to what people are talking about, misunderstandthem, and then report such nonsense.
Mar. I was wrong to listen, I admit; but as to misunderstanding,I am sure I heard right.
Phil. You will force me to say or do something notvery pleasant.
Mar. Well, well! where did Mademoiselle Gianninago just now?
Phil. Where did she go?
Mar. Did she not go out with Monsieur de laCotterie?
Phil. Where?
Mar. I heard they went to Madame Gertrude's.
Phil. To my sister's?
Mar. Yes, sir.
Phil. Giannina may have gone there, not the Lieutenant.
Mar. I know they went out together, sir.
Phil. The Lieutenant may have accompanied her;my sister's house is near the place where he was to go;my daughter might choose to be at hand to hear thenews. I know all; everything goes on well, and I sayagain you are a blockhead.
Mar. [Aside.] This is too bad; I can scarcely keepmy temper.
Phil. See who is in the hall—I hear some one.
Mar. [Aside.] Oh, it will be excellent if a trick hasbeen played on the old gentleman! but it is impossible. [Exit.
Phil. [Alone.] Heaven grant it may end well! Theimprudence of the Lieutenant might have ruined theplot, but young persons are subject to these indiscretions.I fortunately had sense enough when I was a youngman, and have more now I am old.
Enter Gascoigne.
Gas. Your servant, Monsieur Philibert.
Phil. Good-day, my friend. What news have you?
Gas. My master sends his best compliments.
Phil. Where is the Lieutenant? What is he doing?How go his affairs?
Gas. I believe this note will give you full information.
Phil. Let us see. [Opens it.]
Gas. [Aside.] As he does not send me away, I willremain here.
Phil. [To himself.] There is a paper enclosed, whichseems to be written by my daughter. Let us first knowwhat my friend says.
Gas. [Aside.] Marianna is listening behind the hangings;she is as curious as I am.
Phil. [Reading.] "Monsieur: Your advice has encouragedme to a step which I should not have hadthe boldness to venture on, however urged by theviolence of my love." Yes, indeed, he wanted courage."I have carried Mademoiselle to a respectable andsecure house, that is to say, to her aunt's."
He must have met Costanza, and they have gonetogether. I did well to send her quickly; all my ownwork!
"The tears of the girl softened the good old lady,and she assented to our marriage." Excellent, excellent!it could not be better done.
"Orders were given for a notary to be called in, andthe marriage service was performed in the presence oftwo witnesses."
Admirable—all has gone on well. "I cannot expressto you my confusion, not having the courage to askanything but your kind wishes; the rest will be addedin the writing of your daughter, whom you will morereadily pardon. I kiss your hand."
What does he want of me that he has not the courageto ask, and gets my daughter to intercede? Let meread the enclosed. He must have gone immediately tomy sister's, to let Giannina know when the marriagewas over. Well, what says my daughter?
"Dear father." She writes well—a good mercantilehand; she is a fine girl, God bless her. "Permitme, through this letter, to throw myself at your feet,and to ask your pardon." Oh, Heavens! what has shedone?
"Informed by yourself of the advice you had givento Monsieur de la Cotterie, and of the money youfurnished him with to carry it into execution, I haveyielded to my affection, and married the Lieutenant."
Oh, infamous! Deceiver! traitress! abandoned!They have killed me!
Enter Marianna.
Mar. What has happened, sir?
Phil. Help me! support me! for Heaven's sake donot leave me!
Mar. How can such a blockhead help you?
Phil. You are right; laugh at me—abuse me—showme no mercy. I deserve it all, and I give you fullliberty to do so.
Mar. No; I feel compassion for you.
Phil. I am not worthy of your compassion.
Gas. Do not, sir, abandon yourself to despair; mymaster is an honourable gentleman, of a noble family.
Phil. He has ruined my daughter; he has destroyedmy hopes.
Mar. You are able to provide handsomely for him.
Phil. And shall my estate go in this way?
Gas. Pardon me, sir; the same arguments you urgedto convince Monsieur Riccardo may serve to convinceyourself.
Phil. Ah, traitor! do you amuse yourself at my folly?
Mar. Gascoigne speaks to the purpose, and you haveno right to complain of him. [With warmth.]
Phil. Yes, insult me, rejoice at my disgrace!
Mar. I have pity on you, blinded as you are by anger.
Gas. Condemn yourself for the fruits of your ownbad advice.
Phil. Why deceive me? why make me believe thelove of the officer was for Mademoiselle Costanza?
Gas. Because love is full of stratagems, and teacheslovers to conceal their passion, and to contrive schemesfor their own happiness.
Phil. And if Monsieur Riccardo had agreed to themarriage of his daughter, what a figure I should havemade in the affair!
Gas. My master never asked you to interfere for him.
Phil. No, but he let me do it.
Gas. Say, rather, that you did not understand him.
Phil. In short, they have betrayed and cheated me;the conduct of my daughter is treacherous, and that ofthe Lieutenant infamous.
Gas. You should speak more respectfully, sir, of anofficer.
Mar. Remember, soldiers swear swords.
Phil. Yes, that is right; all he has to do now is tokill me.
Gas. My master has no such cruel design; you willsoon see him come to ask your pardon.
Phil. I do not wish to see him at all.
Gas. Your daughter, then, shall come instead of him.
Phil. Name her not to me.
Mar. Your own flesh and blood, sir!
Phil. Ungrateful! she was my love—my only joy.
Gas. What is done cannot be undone.
Phil. I know it, insolent—I know it too well.
Gas. Do not be offended with me, sir.
Mar. Have compassion on him, his anger overpowershim. My poor master! he hoped to marry his daughterto a man of his own choice—to have her always nearhim—to see his grandchildren around him—to delightin their caresses, and to instruct them himself.
Phil. All my hopes are gone; no consolation is leftfor me.
Gas. Do you think, sir, your excellent son-in-law, aworthy Frenchman, and a good soldier, cannot providegrandchildren for you?
Mar. Not a year shall pass, but you will see the finestboy in the world gambolling around your feet.
Phil. My hatred for the father will make me hate thechild.
Mar. Oh, the sense of consanguinity will cause youto forget every injury.
Gas. You have one only daughter in the world; canyou have the heart to abandon her—never to see hermore?
Phil. My anguish of mind will kill me. [Covers hisface with his hands.]
Mar. Gascoigne!
Gas. What do you say?
Mar. Do you understand me? [Makes a sign for himto go out.]
Gas. I understand.
Mar. Now is the time.
Gas. So it may prove.
Phil. What do you say?
Mar. I am telling Gascoigne to go away, to disturbyou no longer, and not to abuse your patience.
Phil. Yes, let him leave me.
Gas. Your servant, sir. Excuse me, if, after havingcommitted such an offence in your house, you see meno more. My master, as things appear at present, willbe forced to leave this, and to carry his wife to France.Have you no message to your poor daughter?
Phil. Do you think he will go away so soon?
Gas. He told me, if he received no kind answer fromyou, to order horses immediately.
Mar. It is a great grief to a father never to see hisdaughter again.
Phil. Is your master a barbarian? is he so ungrateful?Could I have done more for him? And he has used mewith the greatest inhumanity; to seduce the heart ofmy daughter, and the whole time to conceal it from me.
Gas. He would willingly have brought her to youbefore now, but for the fear of your resentment.
Phil. Perfidious! I have to applaud him for his handsomeaction,—I have to be grateful for his treachery;he shuns the reproaches of an offended father,—he cannotbear to hear himself called traitor.
Gas. I understand; by your leave. [Going.]
Phil. Tell him he must never dare to come inmy presence; I do not wish to see him,—I do notdesire it.
Gas. [Aside.] I understand perfectly; nature neverfails. [Exit.
Mar. [Aside.] Matters will soon be accommodated.
Phil. [To himself.] My own injury! this is good!—tomy own injury!
Mar. To turn your thoughts from this subject, sir,may I now speak to you concerning my own affairs?
Phil. I need nothing else to torment me but for youto talk of your marriage. I hate the very word, andnever wish to hear it again while I live.
Mar. It seems, then, you want the world to come toan end.
Phil. For me it is ended.
Mar. My poor master! and where will your estatego—your riches?
Phil. May the devil take them!
Mar. You would die rich, and let your daughter livein want?
Phil. Poor unhappy girl!
Mar. And would you carry this hatred in yourbosom, and feel remorse at your death?
Phil. Be silent, devil! torture me no more.
Enter Mademoiselle Costanza.
Cost. Monsieur Philibert, you have made sport of me.
Phil. [Aside.] This was wanting to complete all.
Cost. I have been waiting two hours, and no one hasappeared.
Phil. [Aside.] I know not what answer to make.
Cost. Did you not urge me to return to my aunt's,telling me the Lieutenant would be there?
Mar. My young lady, you shall hear how it was.The Lieutenant had to go to the aunt's,—and to theaunt's he went. There he was to have an understandingwith Mademoiselle,—and he had an understandingwith Mademoiselle. But the poor gentleman mistookthe house: instead of going to Aunt Hortensia's hefound himself at Aunt Gertrude's, and instead ofmarrying Mademoiselle Costanza, he has marriedMademoiselle Giannina.
Cost. Can it be possible they have laughed at anddeceived me in this manner? Speak, Monsieur Philibert;tell me truly what has been done, and do notsuppose me patient enough to submit to such an injury.
Phil. Oh, if I submit to it, you must submit too.
Cost. And what have you to submit to?
Phil. On your account I have been accessory to theruin of my daughter.
Cost. On my account?
Phil. Yes; the machine I contrived for you hasfallen on my own head.
Mar. Fortunately my master's skull is reasonablythick.
Cost. I understand nothing of all this.
Phil. I will tell you plainly and distinctly the wholeaffair. Know then—
Enter Monsieur Riccardo.
Ric. [To Costanza.] What are you doing here?
Phil. [To himself.] Another torment!
Cost. Sir, you have never forbidden my coming here.
Ric. Well, now I forbid it. I know what you havecome for; I know your love for the foreigner, and yourschemes against my authority and your own honour.
Phil. [To Riccardo, with asperity.] You know nothing.If you knew as much as I do, you would not speak so.
Ric. I speak so in consequence of what you told methis morning, and no light matter it is; enough tomake me forbid my daughter's coming to your house.
Mar. Are you afraid they will marry her againstyour wishes?
Ric. I may well fear it.
Mar. Listen to me: if she does not marry my master,there is nobody else here for her to marry.
Ric. Where is the Frenchman—the officer?
Mar. Shall I tell him, sir?
Phil. Ah! he will hear it soon enough.
Mar. Know, then, the officer has presumed to marrymy young mistress.
Ric. Ah! [With surprise.]
Phil. Oh! [With vexation.]
Cost. This is the wrong I apprehended. Ah, myfather, resent the insult they have offered to me! Theyhave made use of me to accomplish their designs; theyhave flattered me to expose me to ridicule; and theinjury I have received is an insult to our family.
Ric. Yes, I will resent the insult they have offeredto me. You I will send to a convent; and MonsieurPhilibert makes amends for his offence by his ownshame.
Phil. [Aside.] Quite right—I deserve yet more.
Cost. [Aside.] Wretched me! to what am I broughtby my passion, my wretchedness, and disobedience!
Phil. My dear friend, excuse my impatient manner.I acknowledge the injustice I have done you, andHeaven punishes me rightly for my improper intentions.Ah, Monsieur Riccardo, I have lost mydaughter!—I contrived my own disgrace!
Ric. Lost! she is only married—not entirely lost.
Phil. I fear I shall never see her again. Who knowsbut that monster has already carried her away? I gavehim five hundred guineas to carry away my heart—mydaughter—my only daughter—my love—my onlylove! Ah, could I embrace her once more! I wish toknow if she is gone; I want to see her again. If sheis gone, I will kill myself with my own hand. [Going,meets his daughter.]
Enter Mademoiselle Giannina, and a little after,De la Cotterie.
Gian. Ah, dearest father!
Phil. Ah, most ungrateful daughter!
Gian. For mercy's sake, pardon me! [Throws herselfon her knees.]
Phil. Do you deserve pardon?
Gian. Your anger is most just.
Phil. [Aside.] I shall not survive it; I must die.
Ric. Both are to be pitied.
Cost. [Aside.] I shall be revenged if her father refusesto forgive her.
Phil. Rise.
Gian. I will not rise without your pardon.
Phil. How could you have the heart to cause me sogreat an affliction?
Gian. Ah, sir, your advice—
Phil. Not a word of it! torture me no more; nevermention again my own folly and weakness. Rise; onthat condition I pardon you.
Gian. Oh, dearest father! [Rises.]
Cost. [Aside.] She obtains forgiveness on easy terms.
Gian. Ah, sir, let your grace extend—
Phil. Do not speak to me of your husband!
Gian. Oh, give him a place in your heart, or I shallbe forced to leave you.
Phil. Perfidious! to talk so to your father!
Gian. Conjugal duty will oblige me to take this step.
Phil. Oh, hard fate of a father! but it is just—Ideserve more.
Ric. My friend, the act is done, there is no remedy.I advise you to be reconciled to him before yourcurious mishap is known throughout the whole city.
Phil. [To Costanza.] I entreat you, Mademoiselle—Ientreat you not to make it known, for the sake of myhonour and reputation. [To Marianna.] I tell you notto speak of it. My daughter, mention it to no one.
Gian. No, for the love of Heaven, let nobody hear ofit. Quick! let everything be settled before any oneleaves this room. Quick, my dear husband, come here;throw yourself at my father's feet, ask his pardon, kisshis hand; and do you pardon him, receive him for ason-in-law and for a son. Quick! hush! that no onemay hear of it. [She rapidly does everything as she says it.]
Phil. [Aside.] I am confounded; I know not whatto say.
Cost. He has not the firmness to resist the sight ofhis ungrateful daughter. [Exit.
De la Cot. Have I your pardon, sir?
Phil. Do you think you deserve it?
Gian. For Heaven's sake, say no more! We musttake care that nobody shall know what has happened.My father is anxious to save the honour of his family;and, above all things, I charge you never to urge in yourjustification that he advised the scheme, and gave youfive hundred guineas to carry it into execution.
Phil. [To Giannina, with asperity.] I commanded younot to mention it.
Gian. I was only informing my husband of yourcommands.
Ric. Well, Monsieur Philibert, are you reconciled?
Phil. What can I do? I am constrained by necessity,by affection, by my own kind disposition, to be reconciledto them. You are husband and wife, you are inmy house, remain here, and may Heaven bless you!
Gian. Oh, perfect happiness!
De la Cot. I hope, sir, you will never repent of yourpardon and kindness to me.
Mar. Hush! quick! that nobody may know it.
Phil. What now?
Mar. Hush! quick! There is a little affair of mineto be finished. Gascoigne is to be my husband, withthe permission of our masters.
Gas. [To his master.] By your leave, sir. [Gives herhis hand.]
Mar. Hush! quick! that nobody may know it.
Gian. Against your marriage nothing can be said;mine may be condemned. I confess that I haveexceeded the limits of duty, that I have been wantingin respect to my father, and have exposed to hazardmy own honour and the reputation of my family.Those who now see me happy, and not punished, mustbe cautious not to follow a bad example; let themrather say it has pleased Heaven to mortify the father,and not that the daughter is exempt from remorse andregret. Most kind spectators, let the moral of thisrepresentation be a warning to families, and may whateverenjoyment you derive from it be consistent withthe principles of duty and of virtue.

THE END OF "A CURIOUS MISHAP."


THE BENEFICENT BEAR[2]

(IL BURBERO BENEFICO)

(LE BOURRU BIENFAISANT)