The Blunderer | Page 6

you my services, and to speak to you concerning this young lady, whose liberty I am willing to purchase before long, provided we two can agree about the terms.
MASC. (_Aside_). Plague take the ass!
TRUF. Ho! ho! Which of the two am I to believe? This story contradicts the former very much.
MASC. Sir, this gentleman is a little bit wrong in the upper story: did you not know it?
TRUF. I know what I know, and begin to smell a rat. Get you in (_to Celia_), and never take such a liberty again. As for you two, arrant rogues, or I am much mistaken, if you wish to deceive me again, let your stories be a little more in harmony.

SCENE V.--LELIO, MASCARILLE.
MASC. He is quite right. To speak plainly, I wish he had given us both a sound cudgelling. What was the good of showing yourself, and, like a Blunderer, coming and giving the lie to all that I had been saying?
LEL. I thought I did right.
MASC. To be sure. But this action ought not to surprise me. You possess so many counterplots that your freaks no longer astonish anybody.
LEL. Good Heavens! How I am scolded for nothing! Is the harm so great that it cannot be remedied? However, if you cannot place Celia in my hands, you may at least contrive to frustrate all Leander's schemes, so that he cannot purchase this fair one before me. But lest my presence should be further mischievous, I leave you.
MASC. (_Alone_). Very well. To say the truth, money would be a sure and staunch agent in our cause; but as this mainspring is lacking, we must employ some other means.

SCENE VI.--ANSELMO, MASCARILLE.
ANS. Upon my word, this is a strange age we live in; I am ashamed of it; there was never such a fondness for money, and never so much difficulty in getting one's own. Notwithstanding all the care a person may take, debts now-a-days are like children, begot with pleasure, but brought forth with pain. It is pleasant for money to come into our purse; but when the time comes that we have to give it back, then the pangs of labour seize us. Enough of this, it is no trifle to receive at last two thousand francs which have been owing upwards of two years. What luck!
MASC. (_Aside_). Good Heavens! What fine game to shoot flying! Hist, let me see if I cannot wheedle him a little. I know with what speeches to soothe him. (_Joining him_). Anselmo I have just seen....
ANS. Who, prithee?
MASC. Your Nerina.
ANS. What does the cruel fair one say about me?
MASC. Say? that she is passionately fond of you.
ANS. Is she?
MASC. She loves you so that I very much pity her.
ANS. How happy you make me!
MASC. The poor thing is nearly dying with love. "Oh, my dearest Anselmo," she cries every minute, "when shall marriage unite our two hearts? When will you vouchsafe to extinguish my flames?"
ANS. But why has she hitherto concealed this from me? Girls, in troth, are great dissemblers! Mascarille, what do you say, really? Though in years, yet I look still well enough to please the eye.
MASC. Yes, truly, that face of yours is still very passable; if it is not of the handsomest in the world, it is very agreeable. [Footnote: The original has a play on words which cannot be translated, as, _ce visage est encore fort mettable....,s'il n'est pas des plus beaux, il est des agreables_; which two last words, according to pronunciation, can also mean disagreeable. This has been often imitated in French. After the Legion of Honour was instituted in France in 1804, some of the wits of the time asked the Imperialists: _etes-vous des honores?_]
ANS. So that...
MASC. (_Endeavouring to take the purse_). So that she dotes on you; and regards you no longer...
ANS. What?
MASC. But as a husband: and fully intends...
ANS. And fully intends...?
MASC. And fully intends, whatever may happen, to steal your purse....
ANS. To steal...?
MASC. (_Taking the purse, and letting it fall to the ground_). To steal a kiss from your mouth.
[Footnote: There is here again, in the original, a play on the words _bourse_, purse, and _bouche_, mouth, which cannot be rendered in English.]
ANS. Ah! I understand you. Come hither! The next time you see her, be sure to say as many fine things of me as possible.
MASC. Let me alone.
ANS. Farewell.
MASC. May Heaven guide you!
ANS. (_Returning_). Hold! I really should have committed a strange piece of folly; and you might justly have accused me of neglect. I engage you to assist me in serving my passion. You bring good tidings, and I do not give you the smallest present to reward your zeal. Here, be sure to remember....
MASC. O, pray, don't.
[Footnote: Compare in Shakspeare's _Winter's Tale_ Autolyeus' answer to Camillo (Act IV., Scene 3), who