Scene V.—Anselme, Harpagon, Elise, Mariane, Frosine, Valère, Magistrate, Master Jacques.

Anselme. What is the matter, M. Harpagon? I find you quite upset.

Harpagon. Ah! M. Anselme, I am the most unfortunate of men; and there is a great deal of trouble and disorder connected with the contract which you have come to sign! I am attacked in my property, I am attacked in my honour; and behold a wretch, a scoundrel who has violated the most sacred rights; who has introduced himself into my house as a servant to rob me of my money, and to tamper with my daughter.

Valère. Who is thinking of your money, of which you make such a cock-and-bull story?

Harpagon. Yes, they have given each other a promise of marriage. This insult concerns you, M. Anselme, and it is you who ought to take up the cudgels against him, and employ all the rigours of the law, to revenge yourself upon him for his insolence.

Anselme. It is not my intention to make any one marry me by compulsion, and to lay claim to a heart which has already pledged itself; but, as far as your interests are concerned, I am ready to espouse them, as if they were my own.

Harpagon. This gentleman here is an honest magistrate who will forget nothing, from what he has said to me, of the duties of his office. (To the Magistrate). Charge him, Sir, in the right fashion, and make matters very criminal.

Valère. I do not see what crime can be made out against me of the affection which I entertain for your daughter, and to what punishment you think I can be condemned on account of our engagement when it shall be known who I am …

Harpagon. I do not care about any of these stories; in our days the world is full of these assumed noblemen; of these impostors, who take advantage of their obscurity, and with the greatest insolence adopt the first illustrious name which comes into their head.

Valère. I would have you to know that I am too upright to deck myself with anything that does not belong to me; and that all Naples can bear testimony to my birth.

Anselme. Gently! take care what you are going to say. You run a greater risk in this than you think; you are speaking before a man to whom all Naples is known, and who can easily see through your story.

Valère (proudly putting his hat on). I am not the man to fear anything; and if you know Naples, you know who was Don Thomas d’Alburci.

Anselme. No doubt, I know; and few people have known him better than I.

Harpagon. I do not care for Don Thomas nor Don Martin. (Seeing two candles burning, blows one out).

Anselme. Pray let him speak; we shall hear what he means to say about him.

Valère. I mean to say that to him I owe my birth.

Anselme. To him?

Valère. Yes.

Anselme. Come; you are jesting. Invent some other story which may succeed better, and do not attempt to save yourself by this imposture.