The Love-Tiff | Page 3

beloved. The affection a woman displays is often but a veil to cover her passion for another. Val��re has lately shown too much tranquillity for a slighted lover; and the joy or indifference he displays at those favours, which you suppose bestowed upon me, embitters continually their greatest charms, causes this grief, which you cannot understand, holds my happiness in suspense, and makes it difficult for me to trust completely anything Lucile says to me. I should feel delighted if I saw Val��re animated by a little more jealousy; his anxiety and impatience would then reassure my heart. Do you as yourself think it possible for any one to see a rival caressed and be as satisfied as he is; if you do not believe it, tell me, I conjure you, if I have not a cause to be perplexed?
GR.-RE. Perhaps he has changed his inclination, upon finding that he sighed in vain.
ERAS. When love has been frequently repelled it frees itself, and wishes to flee from the object it was charmed with; nor does it break its chain so quietly as to be able to continue at peace. When once we have been fond of anyone who influenced our destiny we are never afterwards indifferent in her presence; if our dislike does not increase when we behold her our love is upon the point of returning again. Believe me, however much a passion may be extinguished, a little jealousy still dwells in our breast; no one can see, without feeling some pang, the heart he has lost possessed by another.
GR.-RE. For my part, I do not understand so much philosophy. I candidly believe what my eyes see, and am not such a mortal enemy to myself as to become melancholy without any cause. Why should I try to split hairs, and labour hard to find out reasons to be miserable? Shall I alarm myself about castles in the air? Let Lent come before we keep it! I think grief an uncomfortable thing; and, for my part, I never foster it without good and just cause. I might frequently find a hundred opportunities to become sad, but I do not want to see them. I run the same risk in love as you do; I share in your bad or good luck. The mistress cannot deceive you but the maid will do the same by me; yet I carefully avoid thinking about it. I like to believe people when they say "I love you." In order to be happy, I do not try to find out whether Mascarille tears the hair out of his head or not. Let Marinette allow herself to be kissed and caressed by Gros-Ren�� as much as he likes, and let my charming rival laugh at it like a fool, I will laugh too as much as I like, and follow his example; we shall then see who will laugh the heartiest.
[Footnote: In several editions of Moli��re we find, instead of Gros-Ren�� the name of Jodelet. The latest, and and if I might be permitted to say so, the most careful editor of our author, Mons. E. Despois, thinks that "Gros-Ren��" ought to be mentioned here. The sense shows he is right.]
ERAS. That is like your talk.
GR.-RE. But here she comes.

SCENE II.--MARINETTE, ��RASTE, GROS-REN��.
GR.-RE. Hist! Marinette.
MAR. Hallo! what are you doing there?
GR.-RE. Faith! do you ask? We were just talking about you.
MAR. Are you there too, sir? Upon my word you have made me trot about like a flunkey for this hour past.
ERAS. How so?
MAR. I have walked ten miles to look for you, and give you my word that...
ERAS. What?
MAR. That you were neither at church, in the fashionable walk, at home, nor in the market-place.
GR.-RE. You may swear to that.
ERAS. But pray, tell me who sent you?
MAR. One, in good truth, who bears you no great ill-will; in a word, my mistress.
ERAS. Ah! dear Marinette, do your words really express what she feels? Do not hide some ominous secret from me. I should not dislike you for this. For Heaven's sake tell me if your charming mistress does not merely pretend to love me?
MAR. Ha! ha! ha! What has put that funny notion into your head? Does she not sufficiently show her inclination? What further security does your love demand? What does it require?
GR.-RE. Unless Val��re hangs himself, or some such trifle, he will not be reassured.
MAR. How so?
GR.-RE. He is so very jealous.
MAR. Of Val��re? Ha! a pretty fancy indeed! It could only be hatched in your brain. I thought you a man of sense, and until now had a good opinion of your intellect; but I see I was very much deceived. Have you also got a touch of this distemper in your head?
GR.-RE. I jealous? Heaven forbid! and keep me from