Amphitryon

ALC. Since you ask an account of the matter, you still say it was not you?

AMPH. Pardon me; but I have a certain reason which makes me ask you to give us this account.

ALC. Have the important cares which perhaps engross you made you so quickly lose the remembrance of it?

AMPH. Perhaps; but, in short, you would please me by telling me the whole story.

ALC. The story is not long. I advanced towards you full of a delighted surprise; I embraced you tenderly, and showed my joy more than once.

AMPH. (to himself.) Ah! I could have done without so sweet a welcome.

ALC. You first made me this valuable gift, which you destined for me from the spoils of the conquered. Your heart vehemently unfolded to me all the violence of its love, and the annoying duties which had kept it enchained, the happiness of seeing me again, the torments of absence, all the care which your impatience to return had given you; never has your love, on similar occasions, seemed to me so tender and so passionate.

AMPH. (to himself.) Can one be more cruelly tortured?

ALC. As you may well believe, these transports and this tenderness did not displease me; if I must confess it, Amphitryon, my heart found a thousand charms in them.

AMPH. What followed, pray?

ALC. We interrupted each other with a thousand questions concerning each other. The table was laid. We supped together by ourselves; and, supper over, we went to bed.

AMPH. Together?

ALC. Assuredly. What a question?

AMPH. Ah; this is the most cruel stroke of all; my jealous passion trembled to assure itself of this.

ALC. Why do you blush so deeply at a word? Have I done something wrong in going to bed with you?

AMPH. No, to my great misery, it was not I; whoever says I was here yesterday, tells, of all falsehoods, the most horrible.

ALC. Amphitryon!

AMPH. Perfidious woman!

ALC. Ah! What madness is this!

AMPH. No, no; no more sweetness, no more respect; this rebuff puts an end to all my constancy; at this ghastly moment, my heart breathes only fury and, vengeance.

ALC. On whom then would you be avenged? What want of faith in me makes you treat me now as a criminal?

AMPH. I do not know, but it was not I; this despair makes me capable of anything.

ALC. Away unworthy husband, the deed speaks for itself, the imposture is frightful. It is too great an insult to accuse me of infidelity. If these confused transports mean that you seek a pretext to break the nuptial bonds which hold me enchained to you, all these pretences are superfluous, for I am determined that this day all our ties shall be broken.

AMPH. After the unworthy affront, which I now learn has been done me, that is indeed what you must prepare yourself for; it is the least that can be expected; and things may not perhaps remain there. The dishonour is sure; my misery is made plain to me; and my pride in vain would hide it from me. The details are still not clear: My anger is just and I claim to be enlightened. Your brother can positively avouch that I did not leave him until this morning: I will go and seek him, in order that I may confound you about the return falsely imputed to me. Afterwards, we will penetrate to the bottom of a mystery unheard of until now; and, in the fury of a righteous anger, woe to him who has betrayed me!

SOS. Monsieur…

AMPH. Do not accompany me, but remain here for me.

CLE. Must I…?

ALC. I cannot hear anything: leave me alone: do not follow me.

SCENE III CLEANTHIS, SOSIE

CLE. Something must have turned his brain; but the brother will soon finish this quarrel.

SOS. This is a very sharp blow for my master; his fate is cruel. I greatly fear something coming for myself. I will go softly in enlightening her.

CLE. Let me see whether he will so much as speak to me! I will not reveal anything.

SOS. These things are often annoying when one knows about them: I hesitate to ask her. Would it not be better not to risk anything, and to ignore what may have happened? Yet, at all hazard, I must see. I cannot help myself. Curiosity concerning things which one would rather not know is a human weakness. Heaven preserve you, Cleanthis!

CLE. Ah! Ah! You dare to come near me, you villain!

SOS. Good Heavens! What is the matter with you? You are always in a temper, and become angry about nothing!

CLE. What do you call about nothing? Speak out.

SOS. I call about nothing what is called about nothing in verse as well as in prose; and nothing, as you well know, means to say nothing, or very little.

CLE. I do not know what keeps me from scratching your eyes out, infamous rascal, to teach you how far the anger of a woman can go.

SOS. Hullo! What do you mean by this furious rage?

CLE. Then you call that nothing, perhaps, which you have done to me?

SOS. What was that?

CLE. So? You feign to be innocent? Do you follow the example of your master and say you did not return here?

SOS. No, I know the contrary too well; but I will be frank with you. We had drunk some wretched wine, which might have made me forget what I did.

CLE. You think, perhaps, to excuse yourself by this trick…

SOS. No, in truth you may believe me. I was in such a condition that I may have done things I should regret; I do not remember what they were.

CLE. You do not even remember the manner in which you thought fit to treat me when you came from the port?

SOS. Not at all. You had better tell me all about it; I am just and sincere, and would condemn myself were I wrong.

CLE. Well? Amphitryon having warned me of your return, I sat up until you came; but I never saw such coldness: I had myself to remind you that you had a wife; and, when I wanted to kiss you, you, turned away your head, and gave me your ear.

SOS. Good.

CLE. What do you mean by good?