ACT IV.
SCENE I.--PHILAMINTE, ARMANDE.
ARM. Yes, there was no hesitation in her; she made a display of her
obedience, and her heart scarcely took time to hear the order. She
seemed less to obey the will of her father than affect to set at
defiance the will of her mother.
PHI. I will soon show her to which of us two the laws of reason
subject her wishes, and who ought to govern, mother or father, mind or
body, form or matter.
ARM. At least, they owed you the compliment of consulting you; and
that little gentleman who resolves to become your son-in-law, in spite
of yourself, behaves himself strangely.
PHI. He has not yet reached the goal of his desires. I thought him
well made, and approved of your love; but his manners were always
unpleasant to me. He knows that I write a little, thank heaven, and
yet he has never desired me to read anything to him.
SCENE II--ARMANDE, PHILAMINTE, CLITANDRE (entering softly and listening unseen).
ARM. If I were you, I would not allow him to become Henriette's
husband. It would be wrong to impute to me the least thought of
speaking like an interested person in this matter, and false to think
that the base trick he is playing me secretly vexes me. By the help of
philosophy, my soul is fortified against such trials; by it we can
rise above everything. But to see him treat you so, provokes me beyond
all endurance. Honour requires you to resist his wishes, and he is not
a man in whom you could find pleasure. In our talks together I never
could see that he had in his heart any respect for you.
PHI. Poor idiot!
ARM. In spite of all the reports of your glory, he was always cold in
praising you.
PHI. The churl!
ARM. And twenty times have I read to him some of your new productions, without his ever thinking them fine.
PHI. The impertinent fellow!
ARM. We were often at variance about it, and you could hardly believe
what foolish things....
CLI (to ARMANDE). Ah! gently, pray. A little charity, or at
least a little truthfulness. What harm have I done to you? and of what
am I guilty that you should thus arm all your eloquence against me to
destroy me, and that you should take so much trouble to render me
odious to those whose assistance I need? Tell me why this great
indignation? (To PHILAMINTE) I am willing to make you, Madam, an impartial judge between us.
ARM. If I felt this great wrath with which you accuse me, I could find
enough to authorise it. You deserve it but too well. A first love has
such sacred claims over our hearts, that it would be better to lose
fortune and renounce life than to love a second time. Nothing can be
compared to the crime of changing one's vows, and every faithless
heart is a monster of immorality.
CLI. Do you call that infidelity, Madam, which the haughtiness of your
mind has forced upon me? I have done nothing but obey the commands it
imposed upon me; and if I offend you, you are the primary cause of the
offence. At first your charms took entire possession of my heart. For
two years I loved you with devoted love; there was no assiduous care, duty, respect, service, which I did not offer you. But all my attentions, all my cares, had no power over you. I found you opposed to my dearest wishes; and what you refused I offered to another. Consider then, if the fault is mine or yours. Does my heart run after change, or do you force me to it? Do I leave you, or do you not rather turn me away?