Valère. You, Sir, beyond gainsay.

Harpagon. Are you aware of what we are talking?

Valère. No. But you could not be in the wrong. You are made up of right.

Harpagon. I intend, this evening, to give her for a husband a man who is as rich as he is discreet; and the jade tells me to my face that she will not take him. What say you to this?

Valère. What do I say to it?

Harpagon. Yes.

Valère. Eh! eh!

Harpagon. What?

Valère. I say, that in the main, I am of your opinion; and you cannot but be right. But on the other side, she is not altogether wrong, and …

Harpagon. How is that? M. Anselme is a desirable match; he is a gentleman who is noble, kind, steady, discreet, and very well to do, and who has neither chick nor child left him from his first marriage. Could she meet with a better match?

Valère. That is true. But she might say to you that it is hurrying things a little too much, and that you should give her some time at least to see whether her inclinations would agree with …

Harpagon. This is an opportunity which should be taken by the forelock. I find in this marriage an advantage which I could not find elsewhere; and he agrees to take her without a dowry.

Valère. Without a dowry?

Harpagon. Yes.

Valère. In that case, I say no more. Do you see, this is altogether a convincing reason; one must yield to that.

Harpagon. It is a considerable saving to me.

Valère. Assuredly; it cannot be gainsaid. It is true that your daughter might represent to you that marriage is a more important matter than you think; that it involves a question of being happy or miserable all one’s life; and that an engagement which must last till death ought never to be entered upon except with great precautions.

Harpagon. Without a dowry!

Valère. You are right. That decides it all, of course. There are people who might tell you that on such an occasion the wishes of a daughter are something, no doubt, that ought to be taken into consideration; and that this great disparity of age, of temper, and of feelings makes a marriage subject to very sad accidents.

Harpagon. Without a dowry!

Valère. Ah! there is no reply to that; I know that well enough. Who the deuce could say anything against that? Not that there are not many fathers who would prefer to humour the wishes of their daughters to the money they could give them; who would not sacrifice them to their own interests, and who would, above all things, try to infuse into marriage that sweet conformity, which, at all times, maintains honour, peace, and joy; and which …