SCENE X (Cléonte, Lucile, Covielle, Nicole)
NICOLE:
For my part, I was completely shocked at it.
LUCILE:
It can only be, Nicole, what I told you. But there he is.
CLÉONTE:
I don't even want to speak to her.
COVIELLE:
I'll imitate you.
LUCILE:
What's the matter Cléonte? What's wrong with you?
NICOLE:
What's the matter with you, Covielle?
LUCILE:
What grief possesses you?
NICOLE:
What bad humor holds you?
LUCILE:
Are you mute, Cléonte?
NICOLE:
Have you lost your voice, Covielle?
CLÉONTE:
Is this not villainous!
COVIELLE:
It's a Judas!
LUCILE:
I clearly see that our recent meeting has troubled you.
CLÉONTE:
Ah! Ah! She sees what she's done.
NICOLE:
Our greeting this morning has annoyed you.
COVIELLE:
She has guessed the problem.
LUCILE:
Isn't it true, Cléonte, that this is the cause of your resentment?
CLÉONTE:
Yes, perfidious one, it is, since I must speak; and I must tell that you shall not triumph in your faithlessness as you think, I want to be the first to break with you, and you won't have the advantage of driving me away. I will have difficulty in conquering the love I have for you; it will cause me pain; I will suffer for a while. But I'll come through it, and I would rather stab myself through the heart than have the weakness to return to you.
COVIELLE:
Me too.
LUCILE:
What an uproar over nothing. I want to tell you, Cléonte, what made me avoid joining you this morning.
CLÉONTE:
No, I don't want to listen to anything . . .
NICOLE:
I want to tell you what made us pa** so quickly.
COVIELLE:
I don't want to hear anything.
LUCILE:
(Following Cléonte) Know that this morning . . .
CLÉONTE:
No, I tell you.
NICOLE:
(Following Covielle) Learn that . . .
COVIELLE:
No, traitor.
LUCILE:
Listen.
CLÉONTE:
I won't listen.
NICOLE:
Let me speak.
COVIELLE:
I'm deaf.
LUCILE:
Cléonte!
CLÉONTE:
No.
NICOLE:
Covielle!
COVIELLE:
I won't listen.
LUCILE:
Stop.
CLÉONTE:
Gibberish!
NICOLE:
Listen to me.
COVIELLE:
Rubbish!
LUCILE:
One moment.
CLÉONTE:
Never.
NICOLE:
A little patience.
COVIELLE:
Not interested!
LUCILE:
Two words.
CLÉONTE:
No, you've had them.
NICOLE:
One word.
COVIELLE:
No more talking.
LUCILE:
Alright! Since you don't want to listen to me, think what you like, and do what you want.
NICOLE:
Since you act like that, make whatever you like of it all.
CLÉONTE:
Let us know the reason, then, for such a fine reception.
LUCILE:
It no longer pleases me to say.
COVIELLE:
Let us know something of your story.
NICOLE:
I, myself, no longer want to tell you.
CLÉONTE:
Tell me . . .
LUCILE:
No, I don't want to say anything.
COVIELLE:
Tell it . . .
NICOLE:
No, I'll tell nothing.
CLÉONTE:
For pity . . .
LUCILE:
No, I say.
COVIELLE:
Have mercy.
NICOLE:
It's no use.
CLÉONTE:
I beg you.
LUCILE:
Leave me . . .
COVIELLE:
I plead with you.
NICOLE:
Get out of here.
CLÉONTE:
Lucile!
LUCILE:
No.
COVIELLE:
Nicole!
NICOLE:
Never.
CLÉONTE:
In the name of God! . . .
LUCILE:
I don't want to.
COVIELLE:
Talk to me.
NICOLE:
Definitely not.
CLÉONTE:
Clear up my doubts.
LUCILE:
No, I'll do nothing.
COVIELLE:
Relieve my mind!
NICOLE:
No, I don't care to.
CLÉONTE:
Alright! since you are so little concerned to take me out of my pain and to justify yourself for the shameful treatment you gave to my pa**ion, you are seeing me, ingrate, for the last time, and I am going far from you to die of sorrow and love.
COVIELLE:
And I -- I will follow in his steps.
LUCILE:
Cléonte!
NICOLE:
Covielle!
CLÉONTE:
What?
COVIELLE:
Yes?
LUCILE:
Where are you going?
CLÉONTE:
Where I told you.
COVIELLE:
We are going to die.
LUCILE:
You are going to die, Cléonte?
CLÉONTE:
Yes, cruel one, since you wish it.
LUCILE:
Me! I wish you to die?
CLÉONTE:
Yes, you wish it.
LUCILE:
Who told you that?
CLÉONTE:
Is it not wishing it when you don't wish to clear up my suspicions?
LUCILE:
Is it my fault? And, if you had wished to listen to me, would I not have told you that the incident you complain of was caused this morning by the presence of an old aunt who insists that the mere approach of a man dishonors a woman -- an aunt who constantly delivers sermons to us on this text, and tells us that all men are like devils we must flee?
NICOLE:
There's the key to the entire affair.
CLÉONTE:
Are you sure you're not deceiving me, Lucile?
COVIELLE:
Aren't you making this up?
LUCILE:
There's nothing more true.
NICOLE:
It's the absolute truth.
COVIELLE:
Are we going to give in to this?
CLÉONTE:
Ah! Lucile, how with a word from your lips you are able to appease the things in my heart, and how easily one allows himself to be persuaded by the people one loves!
COVIELLE:
How easily we are manipulated by these blasted minxes!