Visc. No, it is enough that I have repeated them to you, and I ought to stop there. A man may be foolish enough to make verses, but that is different from giving them to others.
Ju. It is in vain for you to affect a false modesty; your wit is well known, and I do not see why you should hide what you write.
Visc. Ah! we must tread here with the greatest circumspection. It is a dangerous thing to set up for a wit. There is inherent to it a certain touch of absurdity which is catching, and we should be warned by the example of some of our friends.
Ju. Nonsense, Cléante; I see that, in spite of all you say, you are longing to give me your verses; and I feel sure that you would be very unhappy if I pretended not to care for them.
Visc. I unhappy? Oh! dear no, I am not so much of a poet for you to think that I … but here is the Countess of Escarbagnas; I'll go by this door, so as not to meet her, and will see that everything is got ready for the play I have promised you.
SCENE II.—THE COUNTESS, JULIA; ANDRÉE and CRIQUET in the background.
Coun. What, Madam, are you alone? Ah! what a shame! All alone! I thought my people had told me that the Viscount was here.
Ju. It is true that he came, but it was sufficient for him to know that you were not at home; he would not stop after that.
Coun. What! did he see you?
Ju. Yes.