an Laurent
Would I trust my honor without good warrant.
Mme. Pernelle. I don't know what his servant's like at heart,
But for the man himself, I'll guarantee his part.
You only treat him with hate and aversion
Because he truly strives for your conversion.
He hurls his heart up against each sin
And the glory of God is all he hopes to win.
Dorine. Yes. But why, especially during some
Time past, must he ban all guests from our home?
Can a courtesy call offend Heaven
Enough to merit a huge commotion?
Would you like it explained, just between us? [Gesturing toward Elmire.]
Of Madam there, on my oath, he's jealous!
Mme. Pernelle. Be quiet, and think before you speak.
Others, too, condemn the company you keep.
All this bustle from the people who arrive,
The carriages ceaselessly parking at curb-side,
And the servants in a circle chattering,
Make noise that your neighbors find nerve-shattering.
I'd like to think there's no harm meant,
But when gossips talk, they're malevolent.
Cleante. How can you hope to stop people talking?
It would truly be most irritating
If, for the sake of idle, foolish chatter,
We must renounce the friends that really matter.
And even if we could resolve to do it,
How could you hope to keep the whole world quiet?
No castle wall can defend against lies,
So let's ignore the fools who criticize,
And strive to live in innocence and ease,
Letting gossips gossip as they please.
Dorine. Daphne, our neighbor, and her petty spouse--
Weren't they the ones who slandered this house?
Those whom the whole world finds ridiculous
Are always first in line to stick it to us.
They never fail to sniff out and swiftly share
The earliest rumor of a love affair,
Sowing seeds of scandal with eager expedition
And twisting truth past all recognition.
In their own colors, they paint all others,
Brazenly calling all men their brothers;
In the faint hope of finding some resemblance,
They try to give a gloss of innocence
To their schemes or to make others share
The burden of blame that is only theirs.
Mme. Pernelle. All this hair-splitting is off the subject.
Orante lives a life that is perfect