model; and he who gives to his daughter a man whom she hates, is responsible to Heaven for the faults she commits. Consider to what perils your design exposes you.

Orgon. I tell you I must learn from her what to do!

Dorine. You cannot do better than follow my advice.

Orgon. Do not let us waste any more time with this silly prattle, daughter; I am your father, and know what is best for you. I had promised you to Valère; but besides his being inclined to gamble, as I am told, I also suspect him to be somewhat of a free-thinker; I never notice him coming to church.

Dorine. Would you like him to run there at your stated hours, like those who go there only to be seen?

Orgon. I am not asking your advice upon that. The other candidate for your hand is, in short, on the best of terms with Heaven, and that is a treasure second to none. This union will crown your wishes with every kind of blessings, it will be replete with sweetness and delight. You shall live together in faithful love, really like two children, like two turtle-doves; there will be no annoying disputes between you; and you will make anything you like of him.

Dorine. She? she will never make anything but a fool of him, I assure you.

Orgon. Heyday! what language!

Dorine. I say that he has the appearance of one, and that his destiny, Sir, will be stronger than all your daughter’s virtue.

Orgon. Leave off interrupting me, and try to hold your tongue, without poking your nose into what does not concern you.

Dorine (she continually interrupts him as he turns round to speak to his daughter). I speak only for your interest, Sir.

Orgon. You interest yourself too much; hold your tongue, if you please.

Dorine. If one did not care for you …

Orgon. I do not wish you to care for me.

Dorine. And I will care for you, Sir, in spite of yourself.

Orgon. Ah!

Dorine. Your honor is dear to me, and I cannot bear to see you the byeword of everyone.

Orgon. You will not hold your tongue?

Dorine. It is a matter of conscience to allow you to form such an alliance.

Orgon. Will you hold your tongue, you serpent, whose brazen face …

Dorine. What! you are religious, and fly in a rage!

Orgon. Yes, all your nonsense has excited my choler, and once for all, you shall hold your tongue.

Dorine. Be it so. But, though I do not say a word, I will think none the less.