Cléante. Why then defer the ceremony?

Orgon. I do not know.

Cléante. Have you another design in your mind?

Orgon. Perhaps so.

Cléante. Will you break your word?

Orgon. I do not say that.

Cléante. There is no obstacle, I think, to prevent you from fulfilling your promise?

Orgon. That is as it may be.

Cléante. Why so much ado about a single word? Valère sent me to you about it.

Orgon. Heaven be praised for that!

Cléante. But what answer shall I give him?

Orgon. Whatever you please.

Cléante. But it is necessary to know your intentions. What are they?

Orgon. To do just what Heaven ordains.

Cléante. But to the point. Valère has your promise: will you keep it or not?

Orgon. Farewell.

Cléante (alone). I fear some misfortune for his love, and I ought to inform him of what is going on.

ACT V

Scene I.—Orgon, Cléante.

Cléante. Where would you run to?

Orgon. Indeed! how can I tell?

Cléante. It seems to me that we should begin by consulting together what had best be done in this emergency.

Orgon. This box troubles me sorely. It makes me despair more than all the rest.

Cléante. This box then contains an important secret?

Orgon. It is a deposite that Argas himself, the friend whom I pity, entrusted secretly to my own hands. He selected me for this in his flight; and from what he told me, it contains documents upon which his life and fortune depend.

Cléante. Why then did you confide it into other hands?

Orgon. It was from a conscientious motive. I straightway confided the secret to the wretch; and his arguing persuaded me to give this box into his keeping, so that, in case of any inquiry, I might be able to deny it by a ready subterfuge, by which my conscience might have full absolution for swearing against the truth.