43 The Abbd Cotin was pretty quarrelsome, and had had many literary
disputes.



IJO THE LEARNED LADIES. [ACT iv.

terest in supporting ignorance, Madam; and it is as a
courtier that he takes up its defence.

CLI. You are very hard upon this poor court ; and its
misfortune is great to find you gentlemen of wit every day
declaiming against it ; laying all your annoyances at its
door, and quarrelling with it upon its bad taste, accusing
no one but it upon your ill success. Permit me to tell
you, Mr. Trissotin, with all the respect with which your
name inspires me, that you and your brethren would do
very well to speak of the court in somewhat gentler tones ;
and that, after all, it is not so silly as you and these other
gentlemen imagine ; that it has common sense to judge of
everything ; that some good taste may be formed there,
and that the knowledge of the world which is there dis-
played is, without flattery, worth all the obscure learning
of pedantry.

TRIS. Of its good taste, Sir, we behold the effects.

CLI. Where, Sir, do you see that it is so bad ?

TRIS. What do I see, Sir ? Is ft that as regards learning
Rasius and Baldus are an honour to France ; and that all
their merit, clear as day, attracts neither the eyes nor the
gifts of the court.

CLI. I perceive your annoyance, Sir, and that, from
modesty, you do not place yourself among them; and,
not to bring you therefore into the question, what do
these able heroes do for the state ? in what way are their
writings of any service to it to accuse the court of a hor-
rible injustice, and complain everywhere that it fails to
bestow the favour of its gifts on their learned names?
Their learning is very necessary to France ! and the court
cares much about the books which they write ! Three
beggarly fellows take it into their narrow heads, that if
they are only printed and bound in calf they are import-
ant persons in the state ; that with their pens they shape
the destiny of crowns, that at the slightest rumour of their
productions, pensions ought to come flying to them;
that the universe has its eyes on them ; that the glory of
their name is bruited about everywhere ; and that they are
famous prodigies in learning, because they know what others
have said before them, because they have had eyes and ears
for the last thirty years, and because they have spent nine



SCENE iv.] THE LEARNED LADIES. 131

or ten thousand nights in confusing themselves with Greek
and Latin, and loading their minds with the unintelligible
booty of all the old trash that lies scattered about in books.
People who always seem drunk with their learning; have
no other merit than an abundance of troublesome talk;
good for nothing, void of common sense, and full of a
ridicule and an impertinence to decry everywhere wit
and learning.

PHIL. Your warmth is great ; and this violence marks
the movement of nature in you. It is the name of rival
which excites in your heart . . .

SCENE IV. TRISSOTIN, PHILAMINTE, CLITANDRE,
ARMANDE, JULIEN.

JUL. The learned gentleman who just now paid you a
visit, and whose humble servant I have the honour to be,
requests you to read this note.

PHIL. However important the letter may be which I am
desired to read, know, friend, that it is a piece of rudeness
to come to interrupt people in the midst of a conversation ;
and that as a servant who knows how to behave, you should
have recourse to the people of the house to be introduced.

JUL. I shall note that down in my book, Madam.

PHIL. (Reads). "Trissotin has boasted, Madam, that he
is to marry your daughter. Let me inform you that his phi-
losophy aims only at your wealth, and that you would do
well not to conclude this marriage until you have read the
poem which I am composing against him. Whilst this sketch
is preparing, in which I mean to depict him in all his colours,
I send you Horace, Virgil, Terence and Catullus, where you
will see noted down on the margin all the passages which he
has pillaged. ' '

On account of this intended marriage, a man of merit is
attacked by many enemies; and this very villifying induces
me to-day to do an action which shall confound envy, and
make it feel that its efforts accelerate the execution of that
which it wishes to undo. (To Julien). Let your master
immediately know this ; and tell him that to show what
great store I set on his noble counsels, and how worthy I
think them of being acted upon, this very evening I marry
him {Pointing to Trissotiri), to my daughter.



132 THE LEARNED LADIES. [ACTIT.

SCENE V. PHILAMINTE, ARMANDE, CLITANDRE.

PHIL. (To Clitandre). You, Sir, as a friend of the
whole family, may assist at the signing of the contract ;
and I wish to invite you to it. Armande, take care to
send for the notary, and to inform your sister of the
business.

AR. There is no need to inform my sister ; this gentle-
man here will charge himself with the trouble of running
and carrying her the news very soon, and of disposing her
heart to be rebellious against you.

PHIL. We shall see who will have the greatest power
over her, and if I shall be able to bring her to her duty.

SCENE VI. ARMANDE, CLITANDRE.

AR. I regret much to see, Sir, that matters do not alto-
gether turn out as you wished.

CLI. I am going to set about it zealously, Madam, so as
not to leave you so much regret in your heart.

AR. I am afraid that your efforts will not have too good
a result.

CLI. Perhaps you will not see your fear realized.

AR. I hope so.

CLI. I am convinced of it, and. that I shall be assisted
by your support.

AR. Yes, I am going to serve you with all my might.

CLI. And this service is sure of my gratitude.

SCENE VII. CHRYSALE, ARISTE, HENRIETTE,
CLITANDRE.

CLI. Without your support, I should be unhappy;
your wife has rejected my addresses, and in her prejudiced
heart wishes Trissotin for her son-in-law.

CH. But what fancy has she got hold of ? Why the
deuce does she wish for this Mr. Trissotin ?

ARI. It is because his name has the honour of rhyming
with Latin, that he gains an advantage over his rival.

CLI. She wishes to conclude this marriage this very
evening.

CH. This evening?



SCBNXVIH.] THE LEARNED LADIES. 133

CLI. This evening.

CH. And this evening, I have made up my mind to
marry you two, to thwart her.

CLI. She has sent for the notary to draw up the
contract.

CH. And I am going to fetch him for the one he is
to draw up.

CLI. {Pointing to Henriette). And this lady ought to be
informed by her sister of the marriage to which they wish
her to consent.

CH. And I command her, with plenary power, to pre-
pare her hand for this other union. Ah ! I will show if
there be another master than myself in my house, to lay
down the law. (To Henriette). We are coming back,
take care to wait for us. Come, follow me, brother, and
you also, son-in-law.

HEN. (To Ariste). Alas! try to keep him always in
this humour.

ARI. I shall do everything to serve your love.

SCENE VIII. HENRIETTE, CLITANDRE.

CLI. Whatever powerful aid he promises to my flame,
my greatest hope is in your heart, Madam.

HEN. As for my heart, you may be assured of that.

CLI. I cannot but be happy, when I have its support.

HEN. You see to what marriage they attempt to com-
pel it.

CLI. As long as it shall be mine, I see nothing to fear.

HEN. I am going to try everything to see our sweetest
wishes fulfilled ; and if all my efforts do not make me
yours, there exists a retreat where the soul can fly to, and
which shall prevent me from belonging to any other
person .

CLI. May a just Heaven forfend that I should ever
receive such a proof of your affection !



ACT V.

SCENE I. HENRIETTE, TRISSOTIN.
HEN. It is about the marriage for which my mother is
preparing that I wished, Sir, to talk to you face-to-face ;



134 THE LEARNED LADIES. f ACT v.

and I thought that in the trouble in which I see the whole
household plunged, I miglit make you listen to reason. I
know that you expect me to bring you a considerable
marriage portion ; but money, of which so many people
are fond, has only charms unworthy of a real philosopher;
and the contempt for wealth and frivolous grandeur ought
not to shine in your words alone.

TRIS. Nor is it that which charms me in you ; and your
brilliant attractions, your piercing and soft eyes, your
gracefulness and your air, are the wealth, the riches which
draw my affection and my tenderness towards you : these
are the only treasures of which I am enamoured.

HEN. I am much beholden to your generous flame.
Such obliging love confounds me, and I regret, Sir, not
to be able to respond to it. I esteem you as much as one
can esteem ; but I find an obstacle to loving you. A
heart, you know, cannot belong to two people ; and I feel
that Clitandre has made himself master of mine. I know
that he has much less merit than you, that I am no good
observer when I choose him for a husband ; that by a
hundred fine accomplishments, you ought to please me ;
I see well enough that I am wrong, but I cannot help it ;
and the only effect which reason has upon me is to make
me angry with myself for being so blind.

TRIS. The gift of your hand, to which I am encouraged
to pretend, shall also give me that heart which Clitandre
possesses ; and I have reason to presume that by a thou-
sand gentle cares I may find the secret of making myself
beloved.

HEN. No ; my heart is attached to its first affections,
and cannot be touched, Sir, by your attentions. I dare
explain myself freely with you here, nor has my avowal
anything to offend you. This affectionate ardour, which
springs up in the heart, is not, as is well known, an effect
of merit : fancy takes its share in it ; and, when some one
pleases us, we often find a difficulty in saying why it is so.
If we could love, Sir, by choice and prudence, you should
have my whole heart, and my whole tenderness ; but we
see that love is controlled otherwise. Leave me, I pray,
to my blindness, and do not take advantage of this vio-
lence, which, for your sake, they wish to do to my obe-



SCENE i.] THE LEARNED LADIES. 135

(lience. A gallant man wishes to owe nothing to the
power which parents have over us. He has a repugnance
to see the object of his love sacrificed, and does not wish
to obtain a heart except from that heart itself Do not
drive my mother to wish, by her choice, to exercise her
utmost rights upon my inclinations. Take back your love
from me, and bear to some other the homage of a heart
so precious as yours.

TRIS. How can this heart obey you ? Impose upon it
any commands which it can execute. Can it be capable
of not loving you, unless you cease, Madam, to be loveable,
and to display to people's eyes heavenly charms . . .

HEN. Nay, Sir, a truce to this idle nonsense. You have
so many Irises, Philises, Amarantes, which throughout
your verses you paint as charming, and to whom you vow
so much amorous ardour. . . .

TRIS. It is my mind that speaks, and not my heart. I
am enamoured of them only as a poet ; but I love in all
earnest the adorable Henriette.

HEN. Eh ! pray, Sir. . . .

TRIS. If it offend you, my offence towards you is not
likely to cease. This ardour, hitherto ignored by you,
swears to be devoted to you for ever. Nothing can stay
its loving transports ; and, although your charms con-
demn my efforts, I cannot refuse the aid of a mother, who
proposes to crown so dear a flame; and, provided I obtain
so sweet a happiness, provided you become mine, the rest
does not matter.

HEN. But do you know that you risk a little more than
you imagine by using violence with a heart ; that it is not
very safe, to speak frankly to you, to marry a girl in
spite of herself; and that she may have recourse, by seeing
herself forced, to resentments which a 'husband ought to
fear?

TRIS. Such a discourse has nothing in it to make me
uneasy; a wise man is prepared for all emergencies.
Cured by reason, of all vulgar weaknesses, he places him-
self above such things, and takes care not to feel the
least annoyance at anything which does not depend
upon himself.

HEN. In truth, Sir, I am delighted with you ; and I



136 THE LEARNED LADIES. |ACT v.

did not imagine that philosophy was so beautiful' as it is,
thus to teach people to bear with equanimity such ac-
cidents. This firmness of soul, so singular in you,
deserves to have an illustrious subject to work upon, is
worthy to find some one who lovingly takes continual
pains to place it in its full light ; and, as in truth, I dare
not believe myself very fit to give it all the brilliancy of
its glory, I leave it to some one else, and swear to you,
between ourselves, that I renounce the happiness of seeing
you my husband.

TRIS. (Going). We shall soon see how the affair will
go on ; for they have already got the notary within.

SCENE II. CHRYSALE, CLITANDRE, HENRIETTE, MARTINE.

CH. Ah ! daughter, I am glad to see you ; come, come,
and do your duty, and submit your wishes to the will of a
father. I intend, I mean to teach your mother how to be-
have ; and, the better to brave her, here is Martine whom,
in spite of her, I bring back and re-instate in the house.

HEN. Your resolutions are worthy of praise. Take care
not to change this disposition, father ; be firm in having
your wishes carried out ; and do not allow them to induce
you to abandon your good intentions. Do not unbend,
and manage to prevent my mother from gaining a victory
over you.

CH. How ! Do you take me for a booby?

HEN. Heaven preserve me from it f

CH. Am I a simpleton, please ?

HEN. I do not say so.

CH. Am I thought incapable of the steadfast senti-
ments of a reasonable man ?

HEN. No, father.

CH. Should I not have the sense, at my age, to be mas-
ter in ray own house ?

HEN. Yes, indeed.

CH. Should I be so weak in mind as to be led by the
nose by my wife ?

HEN. Eh ! no, father.

CH. Lack-a-day ! What, then, does all this mean ? I
think you very facetious to speak to me thus !

HEN. If I have offended you, it was not my intention.



SCHNBIII.] THE LEARNED LADIES. IJ7

CH. My will shall be carried out in everything in this
house.

HEN. Very well, father.

CH. No one but myself, has a right to command in this
house.

HEN. Yes ; you are right.

CH. It is I who hold the place of head of the family.

HEN. Agreed.

CH. It is I who have to dispose of the hand of my
daughter.

HEN. Eh ! yes.

CH. Heaven gives me full authority over you.

HEN. Who says the contrary?

CH. And I shall soon show you that you have to obey
your father, and not your mother, in taking a husband.

HEN. Alas ! you flatter in this the sweetest of my incli-
nations ; to obey you is all I wish.

CH. We shall see if my wife opposes my wishes . . .

CLIT. Here she comes bringing the notary with her.

CH. Second me well, all of you.

MAR. Leave it to me. I shall take care to encourage
you if there be any need of it.

SCENE III. PHILAMINTE, BELISE, ARMANDE, TRISSOTIN,
A NOTARY, CHRYSALE, CLITANDRE, HENRIETTE,
. MARTINE.

PHIL. (To the Notary). Could you not change your
barbarous style, and give us a contract in beautiful lan-
guage.

NOT. Our style is very good, Madam, and I should be a
fool to wish to change one word of it.

BEL. Ah ! what barbarism in the very midst of France !
But at least, out of regard for learning, Sir, be kind
enough to enumerate the dowry in minae and talents instead
of in crowns, livres, and francs, and to date by the words
of ides and calends.

NOT. I ? If I were to grant your requests, Madam, I
should find myself hooted by all my colleagues.

PHIL. We complain in vain against this barbarism.
Come, Sir, sit down and write. {Perceiving Martini).



138 THE LEARNED LADIES. [ACT v.

Ah ! ah ! this impudent girl dares to show her face here
ao-ain ! Why, pray, bring her back to my house ?

CH. Bye-and-bye, at our leisure, we shall tell you. Now
we have other matters to look after.

NOT. Let us proceed to the contract. Where is the
intended bride ?

PHIL. She whom I marry is the youngest daughter.

NOT. Very well.

CH. {Pointing to Henriette}. Yes, here she is, Sir.
Her name is Henriette.

NOT. Very good. And the intended bridegroom ?

PHIL. (Pointing to Trissotin}. The husband whom I
give here is this gentleman.

CH. (Pointing to Clitandre}. And the one whom I my-
self intend her to marry is this gentleman.

NOT. Two husbands ! It is one too many, according
to custom.

PHIL. {To the Notary}. Why do you stop ? Set down,
set down Mr. Trissotin, for my son-in-law.

CH. For my son-in-law, set down, set down, Mr. Clit-
andre.

NOT. But first agree among yourselves, and after having
well-weighed everything, decide between you who shall be
the intended husband.

PHIL. Follow the choice, Sir, upon which I have resolved.

CH. Do things as I tell you, Sir.

NOT. Tell me which of the two I am to obey.

PHIL. ( To Chrysale). What, you oppose my wish !

CH. I shall not allow my daughter to be courted only
for the sake of my family's wealth.

PHIL. Indeed, your wealth is a great deal thought of!
And a wise man takes much heed of that !

CH. In one word, I have made choice of Clitandre
for her husband.

PHIL. {Pointing to Trissotin}. And behold the one
whom I design for her. My choice shall prevail ; I have
made up my mind to that !

CH. Upon my word ! You carry things with a very
high hand.

MAR. It is not for the wife to dictate, and I am for giv-
ing way in things to the men.



SCBNBIH.J THE LEARNED LADIES. 139

CH. That is well said.

MAR. Were I ever so certain of being turned out, 4 * the
hen ought not to crow before the cock.

CH. Undoubtedly.

MAR. And we see people jeer at a man when the wife
at home wears the breeches.

CH. That is true.

MAR. I say that if I had a husband, I should like him
to be master in his own house : I should not like him to
play the nobody;* 5 and, if I went against him through
some whim or other, if I spoke too loud, I should think it
very good that he lowered my tone by some slaps.

CH. That is sensibly spoken.

MAR. Master is reasonable to wish a proper husband for
his daughter.

CH. Yes.

MAR. For what reason should Clitandre, young and
handsome as he is, be refused to her? And why, if you
please, give her a scholar, who is unceasingly making epi-
logues? She wants a husband, not a pedagogue; and
having no wish to know either Greek or Latin, she has no
need of Mr. Trissotin.

CH. Very good.

PHIL. We must allow her to chatter at her ease.

MAR. Scholars are good for nothing but to preach ;
and for my husband, yes, I have said it a thousand times,
I would never take a man of wit. Wit is not at all wanted
at the domestic hearth. Books go badly with wedlock ;
and I should wish, if ever my troth were plighted, a hus-
band who had no other book but myself, who, without
offence to Madam, knows not A from B, and who, in one
word, should only be a doctor for his wife.

PHIL. (To Chrysale). Is it finished ? And have I lis-
tened quietly enough to your worthy interpreter?

CH. She has spoken the truth.

** The original has mon congefent fois mefut-il hoc. Hoc means "assured,"
but its etymology is uncertain. Some say it is derived from a game of
cards called hoc; others from hoc, meaning "yes " in Provencal ; others,
again, from hoc, meaning croc, a hook ; and finally, hoc, with the Latin
meaning of " that."

46 The original has s ilfaisait le jfocrisse.



140 THE LEARNED LADIES. [ AC r r.

PHIL. And I, to cut short this dispute, require absolute-
ly that my plan should be carried out. {Pointing to Triss-
otiti). Henriette and this gentleman shall be joined on
the spot. I have said it, I will have it so ; do not answer
me. And if your word has been pledged to Clitandre, offer
him to marry the elder.

CH. Here is a way to settle this matter. {To Henriette
and Clitandre]. Well ! do you give your consent to it?

HEN. Eh ! father . . .

CLI. (To Chrysale). Eh ! Sir . . .

BEL. We might make proposals to him that should
please him better ; but we are for establishing a kind of
love that shall be pure as the morning star : the reflecting
substance maybe admitted into it; but we banish the ex-
tended substance from it.

SCENE IV.- ARISTE, CHRYSALE, PHILAMINTE, BELISE,
HENRIETTE, ARMANDE, TRISSOTIN, NOTARY, CLITAN-
DRE, MARTINE.

ARI. I regret to trouble a festive ceremony by the
sorrow which I am obliged to cause here. These two let-
ters make me the bearer of two tidings, of which I have
felt great grief for your sakes. (To Philaminte}. The one
for you comes to me from your solicitor. {To Chrysale}.
The other for you conies to me from Lyons.

PHIL. Who can write us about a misfortune worthy of
troubling us ?

ARI. This letter will relate one to you.

PHIL. "Madam, I have requested your brother to hand
you this letter, which will inform you what I dared not
come to tell you. The great neglect which you show for your
affairs has caused the clerk of your judge not to give me notice,
and you have irrevocably lost your lawsuit, which you ought
to have won.

CH. {To Philaminte). Your lawsuit lost !

PHIL. You trouble yourself much ! My heart is not at
all upset by this blow. Show a less common soul, and
brave, like me, the strokes of fortune. " This want of care
costs you forty thousand crowns; and you have been condemn-
ed to pay this sum with costs, by an order of the Court. Con-



SCENE v.] THE LEARNED LADIES. 141

demned ? Ah ! this word is offensive, and is made for
criminals only !

ARTS. He is wrong, in fact ; and you right in finding
fault. with him. He ought to have said that you are
invited, by order of the Court, to pay as quickly as
possible forty thousand crowns and the necessary ex-
penses.

PHIL. Let us see the other.

CH. " Sir, the friendship which binds me to your broth-
er makes me take an interest in all that concerns you. 2
know that you have placed all your property in the hands of
Arganle and Damon, and I beg to give you notice that they
have both become bankrupts on the same day. O Heavens !
at once to lose all that I possess !

PHIL. (To Chrysale). Ah ! What a shameful outbreak !
Fie ! all this is nothing. To the real philosopher there
is no serious reverse, and, losing everything, he still re-
mains all in all to himself. Let us terminate our affair,
and have done with your grief. (Pointing to Trissotiri).
His wealth will suffice for us all.

TRIS. No, Madam : cease to press this matter. I see
that every one is opposed to this marriage, and I have no
desire to force people's inclinations.

PHIL. This consideration has come upon you very
quickly; it follows very closely, Sir, upon our misfor-
tune.

TRIS. I am weary at last of so much resistance. I pre-
fer renouncing all this bickering, and do not wish for a
heart which does not give itself freely.

PHIL. I see, I see now, and not at all to your credit,
what hitherto I have refused to believe of you.

TRIS. You may believe of me what you please, and I
care little how you take it : but I am not the man to suffer
the shame of the offensive refusals which I have under-
gone here. I am well worth being made much more of
and my service to those who will not have me.

SCENE V. ARISTE, CHRYSALE, PHILAMINTE, BELISE, AR-
MANDE, HENRIETTE, CLITANDRE, NOTARY, MARTJNE.

PHIL. How clearly he has shown his mercenary soul !



142 THE LEARNED LADIES. [ACTV

and how little there is of the philosopher in what he has
just done !

CLI. I do not boast of being such ; but in one word, I
do not separate my fate from yours, Madam ; and I dare
offer you with my person the little which fortune has be-
stowed upon me.

PHIL. You charm me, Sir, by this generous trait, and I
will crown the desires of your affection. Yes ; I grant
Henriette to the eager ardour . . .

HEN. No, mother ; I now change my mind. Permit
me to resist your wishes.

CLIT. What 1 you oppose my happiness ! and, when I
see every one yield to my love . . .

HEN. I know the smallness of your fortune, Clitandre ;
and I have ever desired you for my husband, when by
satisfying my sweetest inclinations I saw that my union
improved your affairs. But when we have such contrary
fates, I love you sufficiently in such extremity, not to bur-
den you with our adversity.

CLIT. Every destiny shared with you would be plea-
sant; every destiny without you would be unbearable.

HEN. Love, in its transport, speaks always thus. Let
us avoid painful and unpleasant reflections. Nothing
wears so quickly the affections of the tie which binds us
as the sad necessities of life's cares ; and people often,
upon such occasions, accuse each other mutually of all
the dismal griefs which proceed from such engage-