The Misanthrope
Act Three, Scene Four
ARSINOE, CELIMENE
ARSINOE
Madame, the best
friend’s one who gives support
In matters of the weightiest import.
And we both know there’s no subordination
To matters which might touch our reputation.
As such, I’ve hurried here upon a mission
To tell of talk which threatens your position.
I had a talk last night with just a few
Upstanding folk when topic turned to you.
And though, you know, I instantly defended,
I fear your actions were not well commended.
The looseness of your ways and the parade
Of men who visit you weren’t well portrayed.
Your coquetry, I fear’s, notorious,
And they spoke in a tone censorious!
I was astounded at this sharp attack,
And in your fair defense I did not lack.
I spoke of your good spirit and I mentioned,
You only have the finest of intentions.
And yet some things I couldn’t quite gainsay,
With issues that I can’t explain away.
And ultimately, I made the confession
That your behavior gives the wrong impression.
And that your actions may well be the source
Of gossip and conjecture rather coarse.
And that you wouldn’t be so oft mistook
If you took greater care for how things look.
It’s not that I’m suggesting you’re to
blame
For deeds the like of which we mustn’t name!
But people’s minds do tend that way to go,
And we must guard ‘gainst vice’s slightest show.
I know you know my purity of purpose,
Intending only to do you great service,
I share these thoughts to help my dearest friend,
And have in mind no other hoped-for end.
CELIMENE
Oh, Madam, I could not miss your intent
And I instinctively knew what you meant.
This information gives such inspiration,
I am reminded of your reputation.,
And think that I might repay you your due,
By telling of what people say of you!
I’ll follow the example that you’ve set
Reporting of the good folk I have met:
I stopped the other day at a soiree
And there, some people tasting the buffet
Had launched a conversation that regarded
Where pious folk from piety had parted.
Alas! I fear the prudery you savor
Was not regarded with all that much favor.
The pious face you manage to contort
The way you talk of virtue and distort
One’s honor with suspicion and with scandal --
At snooping out a sin, none hold a candle --
The self-esteem you seem to hold so dear,
While mankind earns your crocodile tear;
Most notably, the twisted way you measure
The nature of one’s inoffensive pleasure.
All this, Madame, to
say with simple candor
Was treated as no more than reckless slander.
“Why does,” they asked, “she keep this
pious show
When everything she does belies it so?
She says her prayers as much as would a nun
But cheats her maids of wages they have won.
She shows her piety all through the parish,
And yet she paints her face all thick and garish.
On naked statues she would place her ban,
And yet she wouldn’t mind a naked man!”
Of course, I told them they were being vicious
And that your nature wasn’t that malicious.
But still, I couldn’t shake their new conviction,
And they suggested I make interdiction,
To tell you to leave off their moral health,
And rather worry more about yourself!
They said one’s own soul should be much more clear
Before one says how others should appear.
A better plan to let the minister
Decide who’s good and who is sinister.
I know you know my purity of purpose,
Intending only to do you great service,
I share these thoughts to help my dearest friend,
And have in mind no other hoped-for end.
ARSINOE
I see a thank you’s too much to expect,
Though I hoped for, at least, a slight respect.
And since, Madame, you
have brought out your claws,
My ministrations must have given pause.
CELIMENE
Oh, no, Madame, in
fact, if we could grab it,
This opportunity should be a habit.
It’s so hard to get an objective view
To know what people think of what we do
And so, if you are willing, let’s pursue
Arrangements for repeated rendezvous,
Where we might tell each other, entrez nous
What you’ve heard said of me, and I, of you.
ARSINOE
I’m sure it’s only I whom they condemn;
No evil word is said of you by them.
CELIMENE
I think, Madame,
we’re quick to censure sin
According to what season we are in.
When one is fast approaching her September,
It may be better to put out love’s ember
When charms no longer stoke the proper mood,
It may be time to play the role of prude.
Perhaps when my attractions pass their spring,
My tone will take on just your angry ring,
I think, though, I’ll wait ‘til that moment
nears;
No woman is a prude at twenty years.
