The Middle Class Gentleman [16]
Covielle!
COVIELLE: I won't listen.
LUCILE: Stop.
CLEONTE: Gibberish!
NICOLE: Listen to me.
COVIELLE: Rubbish!
LUCILE: One moment.
CLEONTE: Never.
NICOLE: A little patience.
COVIELLE: Not interested!
LUCILE: Two words.
CLEONTE: No, you've had them.
NICOLE: One word.
COVIELLE: No more talking.
LUCILE: Alright! Since you don't want to listen to me, think what you like, and do what you want.
NICOLE: Since you act like that, make whatever you like of it all.
CLEONTE: Let us know the reason, then, for such a fine reception.
LUCILE: It no longer pleases me to say.
COVIELLE: Let us know something of your story.
NICOLE: I ,myself, no longer want to tell you.
CLEONTE: Tell me . . .
LUCILE: No, I don't want to say anything.
COVIELLE: Tell it . . .
NICOLE: No, I'll tell nothing.
CLEONTE: For pity . . .
LUCILE: No, I say.
COVIELLE: Have mercy.
NICOLE: It's no use.
CLEONTE: I beg you.
LUCILE: Leave me . . .
COVIELLE: I plead with you.
NICOLE: Get out of here.
CLEONTE: Lucile!
LUCILE: No.
COVIELLE: Nicole!
NICOLE: Never.
CLEONTE: In the name of God! . . .
LUCILE: I don't want to.
COVIELLE: Talk to me.
NICOLE: Definitely not.
CLEONTE: Clear up my doubts.
LUCILE: No, I'll do nothing.
COVIELLE: Relieve my mind!
NICOLE: No, I don't care to.
CLEONTE: Alright! since you are so little concerned to take me out of my pain and to justify yourself for the shameful treatment you gave to my passion, you are seeing me, ingrate, for the last time, and I am going far from you to die of sorrow and love.
COVIELLE: And I -- I will follow in his steps.
LUCILE: Cleonte!
NICOLE: Covielle!
CLEONTE: What?
COVIELLE: Yes?
LUCILE: Where are you going?
CLEONTE: Where I told you.
COVIELLE: We are going to die.
LUCILE: You are going to die, Cleonte?
CLEONTE: Yes, cruel one, since you wish it.
LUCILE: Me! I wish you to die?
CLEONTE: Yes, you wish it.
LUCILE: Who told you that?
CLEONTE: Is it not wishing it when you don't wish to clear up my suspicions?
LUCILE: Is it my fault? And, if you had wished to listen to me, would I not have told you that the incident you complain of was caused this morning by the presence of an old aunt who insists that the mere approach of a man dishonors a woman -- an aunt who constantly delivers sermons to us on this text, and tells us that all men are like devils we must flee?
NICOLE: There's the key to the entire affair.
CLEONTE: Are you sure you're not deceiving me, Lucile?
COVIELLE: Aren't you making this up?
LUCILE: There's nothing more true.
NICOLE: It's the absolute truth.
COVIELLE: Are we going to give in to this?
CLEONTE: Ah! Lucile, how with a word from your lips you are able to appease the things in my heart, and how easily one allows himself to be persuaded by the people one loves!
COVIELLE: How easily we are manipulated by these blasted minxes!
ACT THREE
SCENE XI (Madame Jourdain, Cleonte, Lucile, Covielle, Nicole)
MADAME JOURDAIN: I am very glad to see you, Cleonte and you are here at just the right time. My husband is coming, seize the opportunity to ask for Lucile in marriage.
CLEONTE: Ah! Madame, how sweet that word is to me, and how it flatters my desires! Could I receive an order more charming, a favor more precious?
ACT THREE
SCENE XII (Monsieur Jourdain, Madame Jourdain, Cleonte, Lucile, Covielle, Nicole)
CLEONTE: Sir, I did not want to use anyone to make a request of you that I have long considered. It affects me enough for me to take charge of it myself; and, without further ado, I will say to you that the honor of being your son-in-law is a glorious favor that I beg you to grant me.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN: Before giving you a reply, sir, I beg to ask if you are a gentleman.
CLEONTE: Sir, most people don't hesitate much over this question. They use the word carelessly. They take the name without scruple, and the usage of today seems to validate the theft. As for me, I confess to you, I have a
COVIELLE: I won't listen.
LUCILE: Stop.
CLEONTE: Gibberish!
NICOLE: Listen to me.
COVIELLE: Rubbish!
LUCILE: One moment.
CLEONTE: Never.
NICOLE: A little patience.
COVIELLE: Not interested!
LUCILE: Two words.
CLEONTE: No, you've had them.
NICOLE: One word.
COVIELLE: No more talking.
LUCILE: Alright! Since you don't want to listen to me, think what you like, and do what you want.
NICOLE: Since you act like that, make whatever you like of it all.
CLEONTE: Let us know the reason, then, for such a fine reception.
LUCILE: It no longer pleases me to say.
COVIELLE: Let us know something of your story.
NICOLE: I ,myself, no longer want to tell you.
CLEONTE: Tell me . . .
LUCILE: No, I don't want to say anything.
COVIELLE: Tell it . . .
NICOLE: No, I'll tell nothing.
CLEONTE: For pity . . .
LUCILE: No, I say.
COVIELLE: Have mercy.
NICOLE: It's no use.
CLEONTE: I beg you.
LUCILE: Leave me . . .
COVIELLE: I plead with you.
NICOLE: Get out of here.
CLEONTE: Lucile!
LUCILE: No.
COVIELLE: Nicole!
NICOLE: Never.
CLEONTE: In the name of God! . . .
LUCILE: I don't want to.
COVIELLE: Talk to me.
NICOLE: Definitely not.
CLEONTE: Clear up my doubts.
LUCILE: No, I'll do nothing.
COVIELLE: Relieve my mind!
NICOLE: No, I don't care to.
CLEONTE: Alright! since you are so little concerned to take me out of my pain and to justify yourself for the shameful treatment you gave to my passion, you are seeing me, ingrate, for the last time, and I am going far from you to die of sorrow and love.
COVIELLE: And I -- I will follow in his steps.
LUCILE: Cleonte!
NICOLE: Covielle!
CLEONTE: What?
COVIELLE: Yes?
LUCILE: Where are you going?
CLEONTE: Where I told you.
COVIELLE: We are going to die.
LUCILE: You are going to die, Cleonte?
CLEONTE: Yes, cruel one, since you wish it.
LUCILE: Me! I wish you to die?
CLEONTE: Yes, you wish it.
LUCILE: Who told you that?
CLEONTE: Is it not wishing it when you don't wish to clear up my suspicions?
LUCILE: Is it my fault? And, if you had wished to listen to me, would I not have told you that the incident you complain of was caused this morning by the presence of an old aunt who insists that the mere approach of a man dishonors a woman -- an aunt who constantly delivers sermons to us on this text, and tells us that all men are like devils we must flee?
NICOLE: There's the key to the entire affair.
CLEONTE: Are you sure you're not deceiving me, Lucile?
COVIELLE: Aren't you making this up?
LUCILE: There's nothing more true.
NICOLE: It's the absolute truth.
COVIELLE: Are we going to give in to this?
CLEONTE: Ah! Lucile, how with a word from your lips you are able to appease the things in my heart, and how easily one allows himself to be persuaded by the people one loves!
COVIELLE: How easily we are manipulated by these blasted minxes!
ACT THREE
SCENE XI (Madame Jourdain, Cleonte, Lucile, Covielle, Nicole)
MADAME JOURDAIN: I am very glad to see you, Cleonte and you are here at just the right time. My husband is coming, seize the opportunity to ask for Lucile in marriage.
CLEONTE: Ah! Madame, how sweet that word is to me, and how it flatters my desires! Could I receive an order more charming, a favor more precious?
ACT THREE
SCENE XII (Monsieur Jourdain, Madame Jourdain, Cleonte, Lucile, Covielle, Nicole)
CLEONTE: Sir, I did not want to use anyone to make a request of you that I have long considered. It affects me enough for me to take charge of it myself; and, without further ado, I will say to you that the honor of being your son-in-law is a glorious favor that I beg you to grant me.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN: Before giving you a reply, sir, I beg to ask if you are a gentleman.
CLEONTE: Sir, most people don't hesitate much over this question. They use the word carelessly. They take the name without scruple, and the usage of today seems to validate the theft. As for me, I confess to you, I have a