Читать книгу The Imaginary Invalid - Жан-Батист Мольер, Жан-Батист Поклен Мольер, Мольер (Жан-Батист Поклен) - Страница 6

Ang. Toinette!

Toi. Well! what?

Ang. Look at me a little.

Toi. Well, I am looking at you.

Ang. Toinette!

Toi. Well! what, Toinette?

Ang. Don't you guess what I want to speak about?

Toi. Oh! yes, I have some slight idea that you want to speak of our young lover, for it is of him we have been speaking for the last six days, and you are not well unless you mention him at every turn.

Ang. Since you know what it is I want, why are you not the first to speak to me of him? and why do you not spare me the trouble of being the one to start the conversation?

Toi. You don't give me time, and you are so eager that it is difficult to be beforehand with you on the subject.

Ang. I acknowledge that I am never weary of speaking of him, and that my heart takes eager advantage of every moment I have to open my heart to you. But tell me, Toinette, do you blame the feelings I have towards him?

Toi. I am far from doing so.

Ang. Am I wrong in giving way to these sweet impressions?

Toi. I don't say that you are.

Ang. And would you have me insensible to the tender protestations of ardent love which he shows me?

Toi. Heaven forbid!

Ang. Tell me, do you not see, as I do, Something providential, some act of destiny in the unexpected adventure from which our acquaintance originated?

Toi. Yes.

Ang. That it is impossible to act more generously?

Toi. Agreed.

Ang. And that he did all this with the greatest possible grace?

Toi. Oh! yes.

Ang. Do you not think, Toinette, that he is very handsome?

Toi. Certainly.

Ang. That he has the best manners in the world?

Toi. No doubt about it.

Ang. That there is always something noble in what he says and what he does?

Toi. Most certainly.

Ang. That there never was anything more tender than all he says to me?

Toi. True.

Arg. And that there can be nothing more painful than the restraint under which I am kept? for it prevents all sweet intercourse, and puts an end to that mutual love with which Heaven has inspired us.

Toi. You are right.

Ang. But, dear Toinette, tell me, do you think that he loves me as much as he says he does?

Toi. Hum! That's a thing hardly to be trusted at any time. A show of love is sadly like the real thing, and I have met with very good actors in that line.

Ang. Ah! Toinette, what are you saying there? Alas! judging by the manner in which he speaks, is it possible that he is not telling the truth?

Toi. At any rate, you will soon be satisfied on this point, and the resolution which he says he has taken of asking you in marriage, is a sure and ready way of showing you if what he says is true or not. That is the all-sufficient proof.

Ang. Ah! Toinette, if he deceives me, I shall never in all my life believe in any man.

Toi. Here is your father coming back.