Arnolphe(aside to Horace). Ay, I will serve you finely!

Horace. Beware, once more…

Arnolphe. Have no uneasiness. Leaves Horace, and goes up to embrace Oronte.)

Oronte. Ah, this is indeed a tender embrace.

Arnolphe. How delighted I am to see you!

Oronte. I am come here…

Arnolphe. I know what brings you, without your telling me.

Oronte. You have already heard?

Arnolphe. Yes.

Oronte. So much the better.

Arnolphe. Your son is opposed to this match; his heart being pre-engaged, he looks on it as a misfortune. He has even prayed me to dissuade you from it; for my part, all the advice I can give you is, to exert a father’s authority, and not allow the marriage to be delayed. Young people should be managed with a high hand; we do them harm by being indulgent.

Horace(aside). Oh, the traitor!

Chrysalde. If it is repugnant to him, I think we ought not to force him. I think my brother will be of my mind.

Arnolphe. What? Will he let himself be ruled by his son? Would you have a father so weak as to be unable to make his son obey him? It would be fine indeed to see him at his time of life receiving orders from one who ought to receive them from him. No, no, he is my intimate friend, and his honour is my own. His word is passed, and he must keep it. Let him now display his firmness, and control his son’s affections.

Oronte. You speak well; in this match I will answer for my son’s obedience.

Chrysalde (to Arnolphe). I am indeed surprised at the great eagerness which you shew for this marriage, and cannot guess what is your motive…

Arnolphe. I know what I am about, and speak sensibly.

Oronte. Yes, yes, M. Arnolphe; he is…

Chrysalde. That name annoys him. He is Monsieur de la Souche, as you were told before.

Oronte. It makes no difference.

Horace (aside). What do I hear?

Arnolphe (turning to Horace). Ay, that is the mystery; you can judge as to what it behooved me to do.

Horace (aside). What a scrape…