{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_2536/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_2536","id":"gutenberg_2536","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/2536","summary":null,"tags":["Amphitryon (Greek mythology) -- Drama","Category: French Literature","Category: Plays/Films/Dramas","Comedy plays","French drama -- Translations into English"],"text":"AMPHITRYON\n\nA play\n\n\nBy Moliere\n\n\nTranslated by A.R. Waller\n\n\nAmphitryon was played for the first time in Paris, at the Theatre du\nPalais-Royal, January 13, 1668. It was successfully received, holding\nthe boards until the 18th of March, when Easter intervened. After the\nre-opening of the theatre, it was played half a dozen times more the\nsame year, and continued to please.\n\nThe first edition was published in 1668.\n\nNote: It is perhaps hardly necessary to refer the reader to Amphitryon,\nby Plautus, the comedy upon which Moliere's charming play was, in\nthe main, based. The rendering attempted here can give but a faint\nreflection of the original, for hardly any comedy of Moliere's loses\nmore in the process of translation.\n\n\n\n\nAMPHITRYON\n\nA Comedy\n\n\nDRAMATIS PERSON\u00c6\n\nMERCURY.\nNIGHT.\nJUPITER, under the form of Amphitryon.\nAMPHITRYON, general of the Thebans.\nALCM\u00c8NE, Amphitryon's wife.\nCL\u00c9ANTHIS, Alcm\u00e8ne's attendant and Sosie's wife.\nSOSIE, Amphitryon's valet.\nARGATIPHONTIDAS, }\nNAUCRAT\u00c8S,       } Theban captains.\nPOLIDAS,         }\nPOSICL\u00c8S,        }\n\nThe Scene is at Thebes, before the house of Amphitryon.\n\n\n\n\nPROLOGUE\n\n\nMERCURY, on a cloud; NIGHT, in a chariot drawn by two horses\n\nMERC. Wait! Gentle Night; deign to stay awhile: Some help is needed from\nyou. I have two words to say to you from Jupiter.\n\nNIGHT. Ah! Ah! It is you, Seigneur Mercury! Who would have thought of\nyou here, in that position?\n\nMERC. Well, feeling tired, and not being able to fulfil the different\nduties Jupiter ordered me, I quietly sat down on this cloud to await\nyour coming.\n\nNIGHT. You jest, Mercury: you do not mean it; does it become the Gods to\nsay they are tired?\n\nMERC. Are the Gods made of iron?\n\nNIGHT. No; but one must always have a care for divine decorum. There are\ncertain words the use of which debases this sublime quality, and it is\nmeet that these should be left to men, because they are unworthy.\n\nMERC. You speak at your ease, fair lady, from a swiftly rolling chariot,\nin which, like a dame free from care; you are drawn by two fine horses\nwherever you like. But it is not the same with me. Such is my miserable\nfate that I cannot bear the poets too great a grudge for their gross\nimpertinence in having, by an unjust law, which they wish to retain in\nforce, given a separate conveyance to each God, for his own use, and\nleft me to go on foot: me, like a village messenger, though, as everyone\nknows, I am the famous messenger of the sovereign of the Gods, on the\nearth and in the heavens. Without any exaggeration, I need more than any\none else the means of being carried about, because of all the duties he\nputs upon me.\n\nNIGHT. What can one do? The poets do what pleases them. It is not the\nonly stupidity we have detected in these gentlemen. But surely your\nirritation against them is wrong, for the wings at your feet are a\nfriendly gift of theirs.\n\nMERC. Yes; but does going more quickly tire oneself less?\n\nNIGHT. Let us leave the matter, Seigneur Mercury, and learn what is\nwanted.\n\nMERC. Jupiter, as I have told you, wishes the dark aid of your cloak for\na certain gallant adventure, which a new love affair has furnished\nhim. His custom is not new to you, I believe: often does he neglect the\nheavens for the earth; and you are not ignorant that this master of\nthe Gods loves to take upon himself the guise of man to woo earthly\nbeauties. He knows a hundred ingenious tricks to entrap the most\nobdurate. He has felt the darts of Alcmene's eyes; and, whilst\nAmphitryon, her husband, commands the Theban troops on the plains of\nBoeotia, Jupiter has taken his form, and assuaged his pains, in the\npossession of the sweetest of pleasures. The condition of the couple is\npropitious to his desire: Hymen joined them only a few days ago; and the\nyoung warmth of their tender love suggested to Jupiter to have recourse\nto this fine artifice. His stratagem proved successful in this case; but\nwith many a cherished object a similar disguise would not be of any\nuse: it is not always a sure means of pleasing, to adopt the form, of a\nhusband.\n\nNIGHT. I admire Jupiter, and I cannot imagine all the disguises which\ncome into his head.\n\nMERC. By these means he wishes to taste all sorts of conditions: that\nis the act of a God who is not a fool. However mortals may regard him,\nI should think very meanly of him if he never quitted his redoubtable\nmien, and were always in the heavens, standing upon his dignity. In my\nopinion, there is nothing more idiotic than always to be imprisoned in\none's grandeur; above all, a lofty rank becomes very inconvenient in\nthe transports of amorous ardour. Jupiter, no doubt, is a connoisseur\nin pleasure, and he knows how to descend from the height of his supreme\nglory. So that he can enter into everything that pleases him, he\nentirely casts aside himself, and then it is no longer Jupiter who\nappears.\n\nNIGHT. I could overlook seeing him step down from his sublime stage\nto that of men, since he wishes to enter into all the transports which\ntheir natures can supply, and join in their jests, if, in the changes\nwhich take his fancy, he would confine himself to nature. But I do not\nthink it fitting to see Jupiter as a bull, a serpent, a swan, or what\nnot, and it does not astonish me that it is sometimes talked about.\n\nMERC. Let all the busybodies talk; such changes have their own charms\nand surpass people's understanding. The God knows what he does in this\naffair as in everything else: in the movements of their tender passions,\nanimals are not so loutish as one might think.\n\nNIGHT. Let us return to the lady whose favours he enjoys. If, by his\nstratagem, his pursuit is successful, what more can he wish? What can I\ndo?\n\nMERC. He wishes that you would slacken the pace of your horses, to\nsatisfy the passion of his amorous heart, and so make of a delightful\nnight the longest night of all; that you would give him more time for\nhis transports, and retard the birth of day since it will hasten the\nreturn of him whose place he occupies.\n\nNIGHT. Really the employment which the great Jupiter reserves for me\nis a worthy one! The service he requires of me passes under a very\nrespectable name.\n\nMERC. You are somewhat old-fashioned for a young goddess! Such an\nemployment is not debasing except among people of mean birth. When\none has the happiness of belonging to lofty rank, whatever one does is\nalways right and good; things change their names to suit what one may\nbe.\n\nNIGHT. You know more about such matters than I do; I will trust to your\nenlightened views and accept this employment.\n\nMERC. Come, come, now, Madam Night, a little gently, I beseech you. The\nworld gives you the reputation of not being so scrupulous. In a hundred\ndifferent climes you are made the confidant of many gallant adventures;\nand, if I may speak candidly, we do not owe each other anything.\n\nNIGHT. Let us cease these reproaches and remain what we are. Let us not\ngive men cause to laugh by telling each other the truth.\n\nMERC. Adieu. I am going there to play my part in this business, promptly\nto strip myself of the form of Mercury and to take in its place the\nfigure of Amphitryon's valet.\n\nNIGHT. I am going to keep station in this hemisphere with my sombre\ntrain.\n\nMERC. Good day, Night.\n\nNIGHT. Adieu, Mercury.\n\n(Mercury descends from his cloud to the earth, and Night goes away in\nher chariot.)\n\nEND OF THE PROLOGUE.\n\n\n\n\nACT I\n\n\n\nSCENE I\n\nSOSIE\n\nWho goes there? Eh? My fear grows with every step. Gentlemen, I am a\nfriend to all the world. Ah! What unparalleled boldness, to be out at\nthis hour! My master is crowned with fame, but what a villainous trick\nhe plays me here! What? If he had any love for his neighbour, would he\nhave sent me out in such a black night? Could he not just as well have\nwaited until it was day before sending me to announce his return and the\ndetails of his victory? To what servitude are thy days subjected, Sosie!\nOur lot is far more hard with the great than with the mean. They insist\nthat everything in nature should be compelled to sacrifice itself for\nthem. Night and day, hail, wind, peril, heat, cold, as soon as they\nspeak we must fly. Twenty years of assiduous service do not gain us any\nconsideration from them. The least little whim draws down upon us their\nanger.\n\nNotwithstanding this, our infatuated hearts cling to the empty honour\nof remaining near them, contented with the false idea, which every one\nholds, that we are happy. In vain reason bids us retire; in vain our\nspite sometimes consents to this; to be near them is too powerful\nan influence on our zeal, and the least favour of a caressing glance\nimmediately re-engages us. But at last, I see our house through the\ndarkness, and my fear vanishes.\n\nI must prepare some thought-out speech for my mission. I must give\nAlcmene warlike description of the fierce combat which put our enemies\nto flight. But how the deuce can I do this since I was not there? Never\nmind; let us talk of cut and thrust, as though I were an eyewitness. How\nmany people describe battles from which they remained far away! In order\nto act my part without discredit, I will rehearse it a little.\n\nThis is the chamber into which I am ushered as the messenger: this\nlantern is Alcmene, to whom I have to speak. (He sets his lantern on\nthe ground and salutes it.) 'Madam, Amphitryon, my master and your\nhusband,... (Good! that is a fine beginning!) whose mind is ever full\nof your charms, has chosen me from amongst all to bring tidings of the\nsuccess of his arms, and of his desire to be near you.' 'Ah! Really, my\npoor Sosie, I am delighted to see you back again.' 'Madam, you do me too\nmuch honour: my lot is an enviable one.' (Well answered!)\n\n'How is Amphitryon?' 'Madam, as a man of courage should be, when glory\nleads him.' (Very good! A capital idea!) 'When will my heart be charmed\nand satisfied by his return?' 'As soon as possible, assuredly, Madam,\nbut his heart desires a speedier return.' (Ah!) 'In what state has the\nwar left him? What says he? What does he? Ease my anxiety.' He says less\nthan he does, Madam, and makes his enemies tremble.' (Plague! where do I\nget all these fine speeches?) 'What are the rebels doing? Tell me, what\nis their condition?' 'They could not resist our efforts, Madam; we cut\nthem to pieces, put their chief, Pterelas, to death, took Telebos by\nassault; and now the port rings with our prowess.' 'Ah! What a success!\nYe Gods! Who could ever have imagined it? Tell me, Sosie, how it\nhappened.' 'I will, gladly, Madam; and, without boasting, I can tell\nyou, with the greatest accuracy, the details of this victory. Imagine,\ntherefore, Madam, that Telebos is on this side. (He marks the places\non his hand, or on the ground.) It is a city really almost as large as\nThebes. The river is, say, there. Here, our people encamped; and that\nspace was occupied by our enemies. On a height, somewhere about here,\nwas their infantry; and, lower down, on the right side, was their\ncavalry. After having addressed prayers to the Gods, and issued all the\norders, the signal was given. The enemy, thinking to turn our flank,\ndivided their horse soldiers into three platoons; but we soon chilled\ntheir warmth, and you shall see how. Here is our vanguard ready to begin\nwork; there, were the archers of our king, Creon; and here, the main\narmy (some one makes a slight noise), which was just going to... Stay;\nthe main body is afraid'; I think I hear some noise.\n\n\n\nSCENE II\n\nMERCURY, SOSIE\n\nMERC. (Under the form of Sosie.) Under this mask which resembles him,\nI will drive away the babbler from here. His unfortunate arrival may\ndisturb the pleasures our lovers are tasting together.\n\nSOS. My heart revives a little; perhaps it was nothing. Lest\nanything untoward should happen, however, I will go in to finish the\nconversation.\n\nMERC. I shall prevent your doing that unless you are stronger than\nMercury.\n\nSOS. This night seems to me unusually long. By the time I have been\non the way, either my master has taken evening for morning, or lovely\nPhoebus slumbers too long in bed through having taken too much wine.\n\nMERC. With what irreverence this lubber speaks of the Gods! My arm\nshall soon chastise this insolence; I shall have a fine game with him,\nstealing his name as well as his likeness.\n\nSOS. Ah! upon my word, I was right: I am done for, miserable creature\nthat I am! I see a man before our house whose mien bodes me no good. I\nwill sing a little to show some semblance of assurance.\n\n(He sings; and, when Mercury speaks, his voice weakens, little by\nlittle.)\n\nMERC. What rascal is this, who takes the unwarrantable licence of\nsinging and deafening me like this? Does he wish me to curry his coat\nfor him?\n\nSOS. Assuredly that fellow does not like music.\n\nMERC. For more than a week, I have not found any one whose bones I could\nbreak; my arm will lose its strength in this idleness. I must look out\nfor some one's back to get my wind again.\n\nSOS. What the deuce of a fellow is this? My heart thrills with clutching\nfear. But why should I tremble thus? Perhaps the rogue is as much afraid\nas I am, and talks in this way to hide his fear from me under a feigned\naudacity. Yes, yes, I will not allow him to think me a goose. If I am\nnot bold, I will try to appear so. Let me seek courage by reason; he is\nalone, even as I am; I am strong, I have a good master, and there is our\nhouse.\n\nMERC. Who goes there?\n\nSOS. I.\n\nMERC. Who, I?\n\nSOS. I. Courage, Sosie!\n\nMERC. Tell me, what is your condition?\n\nSOS. To be a man, and to speak.\n\nMERC. Are you a master, or a servant?\n\nSOS. As fancy takes me.\n\nMERC. Where are you going?\n\nSOS. Where I intend to go.\n\nMERC. Ah! This annoys me.\n\nSOS. I am ravished to hear it.\n\nMERC. By hook or by crook, I must definitely know all about you, you\nwretch; what you do, whence you come before the day breaks, where you\nare going, and who you may be.\n\nSOS. I do good and ill by turns; I come from there; I go there; I belong\nto my master.\n\nMERC. You show wit, and I see you think to play the man of importance\nfor my edification. I feel inclined to make your acquaintance by\nslapping your face.\n\nSOS. Mine?\n\nMERC. Yours; and there you get it, sharp. (Mercury gives him a slap.)\n\nSOS. Ah! Ah! This is a fine game!\n\nMERC. No; it is only a laughing matter, a reply to your quips.\n\nSOS. Good heavens! Friend, how you swing out your arm without any one\nsaying anything to you.\n\nMERC. These are my lightest clouts, little ordinary smacks.\n\nSOS. If I were as hasty as you, we should have a fine ado.\n\nMERC. All this is nothing as yet: it is merely to fill up time; we shall\nsoon see something else; but let us continue our conversation.\n\nSOS. I give up the game. (He turns to go away.)\n\nMERC. Where are you going?\n\nSOS. What does it matter to you?\n\nMERC. I want to know where you are going.\n\nSOS. I am going to open that door. Why do you detain me?\n\nMERC. If you dare to go near it, I shall rain down a storm of blows on\nyou.\n\nSOS. What? You wish to hinder me from entering our own house by threats?\n\nMERC. What do you say, your house?\n\nSOS. Yes, our house.\n\nMERC. O, the scoundrel! You speak of that house?\n\nSOS. Certainly. Is not Amphitryon the master of it?\n\nMERC. Well! What does that prove?\n\nSOS. I am his valet.\n\nMERC. You?\n\nSOS. I.\n\nMERC. His valet?\n\nSOS. Unquestionably.\n\nMERC. Valet of Amphitryon?\n\nSOS. Of Amphitryon himself.\n\nMERC. Your name is?\n\nSOS. Sosie.\n\nMERC. Eh? What?\n\nSOS. Sosie.\n\nMERC. Listen: do you realise that my fist can knock you spinning?\n\nSOS. Why? What fury has seized you now?\n\nMERC. Tell me, who made you so rash as to take the name of Sosie?\n\nSOS. I do not take it; I have always borne it.\n\nMERC. O what a monstrous lie! What confounded impudence! You dare to\nmaintain that Sosie is your name?\n\nSOS. Certainly; I maintain it, for the good reason that the Gods have so\nordered it by their supreme power. It is not in my power to say no, and\nto be any one else than myself.\n\n(Mercury beats him.) MERC. A thousand stripes ought to be the reward of\nsuch audacity.\n\nSOS. Justice, citizens! Help! I beseech you.\n\nMERC. So, you gallows-bird, you yell out?\n\nSOS. You beat me down with a thousand blows, and yet do not wish me to\ncry out?\n\nMERC. It is thus that my arm...\n\nSOS. The action is unworthy. You gloat over the advantage which my want\nof courage gives you over me; that is not fair treatment. It is mere\nbullying to wish to profit by the poltroonery of those whom one makes to\nfeel the weight of one's arm. To thrash a man who does not retaliate is\nnot the act of a generous soul; and to show courage against men who have\nnone merits condemnation.\n\nMERC. Well! Are you still Sosie? What say you?\n\nSOS. Your blows have not made any metamorphosis in me; all the change\nthere is is that in the matter I am Sosie thrashed.\n\nMERC. Still? A hundred fresh blows for this fresh impudence.\n\nSOS. Have mercy, a truce to your blows.\n\nMERC. Then a truce to your insolence.\n\nSOS. Anything that pleases you; I will keep silence. The dispute between\nus is too unequal.\n\nMERC. Are you still Sosie? Say, villain!\n\nSOS. Alas! I am what you wish; dispose of my lot exactly as you please:\nyour arm 'has made you the master of it.\n\nMERC. I think you said your name was Sosie?\n\nSOS. True, until now I thought the matter was clear; but your rod has\nmade me see that I was mistaken in this affair.\n\nMERC. I am Sosie: all Thebes avows it. Amphitryon has never had other\nthan me.\n\nSOS. You, Sosie?\n\nMERC. Yes, Sosie; and if any one trifles with me, he must take care of\nhimself.\n\nSOS. Heavens! Must I thus renounce myself, and see my name stolen by an\nimpostor. How lucky I am a poltroon! Or, by the death...!\n\nMERC. What are you mumbling between your teeth?\n\nSOS. Nothing. But, in the name of the Gods, give me leave to speak one\nmoment with you.\n\nMERC. Speak.\n\nSOS. But promise me, I beseech you, that there shall not be any more\nstrokes. Let us sign a truce.\n\nMERC. Let that pass; go on, I grant you this point.\n\nSOS. Tell me, who put this fancy into your head? What benefit will it be\nto you to take my name? In short, were you a demon, could you hinder me\nfrom being myself, from being Sosie?\n\nMERC. What is this, you dare...\n\nSOS. Ah! Gently: there is a truce to blows.\n\nMERC. What! Gallows-bird, impostor, scoundrel...\n\nSOS. As for abuse, give me as much as you please; it makes but a slight\nwound and does not bother me.\n\nMERC. You say you are Sosie?\n\nSOS. Yes. Some ridiculous tale...\n\nMERC. So, I shall break our truce, and take back my word.\n\nSOS. I can't help it. I cannot annihilate myself for you, and endure so\nimprobable a tale. Is it in your power to be what I am? Can I cease to\nbe myself? Did any one ever hear of such a thing? And can you give the\nlie to a hundred clear indications? Do I dream? Do I sleep? Is my mind\ntroubled by powerful transports? Do I not feel I am awake? Am I not in\nmy right senses? Has not my master, Amphitryon, commanded me to come\nhere to Alcmene his wife? Am I not, in commending his passion to her,\nto give her an account of his deeds against our enemies? Have I not just\ncome from the harbour? Do I not hold a lantern in my hand? Have I not\nfound you in front of our house? Did I not speak to you in a perfectly\nfriendly manner? Do you not make use of my poltroonery to hinder me from\nentering our house? Have you not vented your rage upon my back? Have you\nnot showered blows on me? Ah! All this is but too true: would to Heaven\nit were less real! Cease therefore to jeer at a wretch's lot, and leave\nme to acquit myself where my duty calls me.\n\nMERC. Stop, or the shortest step brings down upon your back clattering\nevidence of my just anger. All you have just said is mine, except the\nblows. It is I, whom Amphitryon sent to Alcmene; who has just arrived\nfrom the Persian port; I, who have come to announce the valour of his\narm, which has gained us a glorious victory, and slain the chief of\nour enemies. In short, I am undoubtedly Sosie, son of Dave, an honest\nshepherd; brother of Arpage, who died in a foreign land; husband of\nCleanthis the prude, whose temper drives me wild; I, who received a\nthousand cuts from a whip at Thebes, without ever saying anything about\nit; and who was once publicly branded on the back for being too worthy a\nman.\n\nSOS. He is right. If he were not Sosie, he could not know all he says;\nall this is so astounding that even I begin to believe him a little. In\nfact, now I look at him, I see he has my figure, looks, and manners. I\nwilt ask him some question, in order to clear up this mystery. What\ndid Amphitryon obtain as his share of all the plunder taken from our\nenemies?\n\nMERC. Five fine large diamonds, beautifully set in a cluster, which\ntheir chief wore as a rare piece of handicraft.\n\nSOS. For whom does he intend so rich a present?\n\nMERC. For his wife; he intends her to wear it.\n\nSOS. Where have you put it, until you meet her?\n\nMERC. In a casket sealed with the arms of my master.\n\nSOS. He does not tell a single lie at any turn: I begin to doubt myself\nin earnest. He has already cowed me into believing him to be Sosie; and\nhe might even reason me into thinking him so. Yet, when I touch myself,\nand recollect, it seems to me I am myself. Where can I find some light\nthat will clearly make my way plain? What I have done alone, and what no\none has seen, cannot be known to any one else: that, at least, belongs\nto me. I will astonish him by this question: it will confound him, and\nwe shall see. When they were at close quarters, what were you doing in\nour tents, whither you ran to hide yourself away?\n\nMERC. Off a ham\n\nSOS. That is it!\n\nMERC. Which I unearthed, I soon cut two succulent slices: they suited me\nnicely. I added to them a wine which was usually kept dark, and,\ngloated over the sight of it before I tasted it. So I took heart for our\nfighters.\n\nSOS. This unparalleled proof ends matters well in his favour; and,\nunless he were in the bottle, there is nothing to be said. From the\nproofs you show me, I cannot deny that you are Sosie: I admit it. But,\nif you are he, tell me whom you wish me to be; for I must be someone.\n\nMERC. When I shall no longer be Sosie, you may be he, I consent to that;\nbut I promise you it shall be the death of you if you take up such a\nfancy while I am he.\n\nSOS. All this confusion turns me inside out, for reason is against what\nI see. But I must end this by some means; and the shortest way for me is\nto go in there.\n\nMERC. Oh! You gallows-bird, you want to taste the stick.\n\nSOS. What is the matter? Great Gods! He makes the blows ring again; my\nback will ache for a month. I will leave this devil of a fellow, and\nreturn to the harbour. O just Heavens, what a fine ambassador I have\nbeen!\n\nMERC. At last, I have made him fly; this treatment has paid him out for\nmany of his deeds. But here is Jupiter, gallantly escorting his lover\nAlcmene.\n\n\n\nSCENE III\n\nJUPITER, ALCMENE, CLEANTHIS, MERCURY\n\nJUP. My dear Alcmene, forbid the torch-bearers to come near. They give\nme delight in enabling me to see you; but they might betray my being\nhere, and this were best unrevealed. Restrained by all the heavy cares\nwith which the glory of our arms held me bound, my heart has stolen from\nthe duties of my post the moments it has just given to your charms. This\ntheft, which I have consecrated to your beauty, might be blamed by the\npublic voice; and the only witness I want, is she who can thank me for\nit.\n\nALC. I take great interest, Amphitryon, in the glory which your\nillustrious exploits have cast upon you; the fame of your victory moves\nmy heart to its depths. But when I see that this disastrous honour keeps\nmy lover away from me, such is my heart's feeling that I cannot forbear\nto think ill of it, and to regret the high order which makes you general\nof the Thebans. It is sweet after a victory to see the glory to which\none's lover has been raised; but, from among the perils attached to this\nglory, a deadly blow, alas! may soon fall. With how many fears is one's\nheart wounded at the report of the least skirmish! In the horror of such\na thought, is there anything that can console for the threatened stroke?\nAnd with whatever laurels the victor may be crowned, whatever share\none may have in that supreme honour, is it worth what it costs a tender\nheart, which trembles every moment for its lover?\n\nJUP. I do not see anything in you but what inflames my passion;\neverything shows me a deeply enamoured heart; and, I confess, it is a\ngreat delight to find so much love in a beloved object. But, if I may\ndare say so, one scruple in the tender sentiments which you show me\ncauses me anxiety; and, in order to enjoy you the more, dear Alcmene, my\nheart would rather see love only, and not duty, in the favours which I\nreceive from you; may they arise solely from affection, and have respect\nto my person only; let not my condition as your husband be the reason\nfor them.\n\nALC. Yet it is in that name that the ardour which burns me holds\nthe right to show itself: I do not understand this new scruple which\ntroubles your heart.\n\nJUP. The love and tenderness which I have for you far exceeds a\nhusband's; in these sweet moments, you do not realise its delicacy; You\ndo not understand that a heart deeply in love studiously attaches itself\nto a hundred little trifles, and is restless over the manner of being\nhappy. In me, fair and charming Alcmene, you see a lover and a husband;\nbut, to speak frankly, it is the lover that appeals to me; when near\nyou, I feel the husband restrains him. This lover, who is supremely\njealous of your love, wishes your heart to abandon itself solely to him:\nhis passion does not wish anything the husband gives him. He wishes to\nobtain the warmth of your love from the fountain-head, and not to owe\nanything to the bonds of wedlock, or to a duty which palls and makes the\nheart sad, for by these the sweetness of the most cherished favours\nis daily poisoned. This idea, in short, tosses him to and fro, and he\nwishes, in order to satisfy his scruples, that you would differentiate\nwhere the occasion offends him, the husband to be only for your virtue,\nand the lover to have the whole affection and tenderness of a heart\nknown to be full of kindness.\n\nALC. In truth, Amphitryon, you must be jesting, to talk thus; I should\nbe afraid anyone who heard you would think you were not sane.\n\nJUP. There is more reason in this discourse, Alcmene, than you think.\nBut a longer stay here would render me guilty, and time presses for my\nreturn to port. Adieu. The stern call of duty tears me away from you\nfor a time; but, lovely Alcmene, I beseech you at least to think of the\nlover when you see the husband.\n\nALC. I do not separate what the Gods unite: both husband and lover are\nvery precious to me.\n\nCLE. O Heaven! How delightful are the caresses of an ardently cherished\nhusband! How far my poor husband is from all this tenderness!\n\nMERC. I must tell Night she has but to furl all her sails; the Sun may\nnow arise from his bed and put out the stars.\n\n\n\nSCENE IV\n\nCLEANTHIS, MERCURY (Mercury turns to go away)\n\nCLE. So? Is it thus you quit me?\n\nMERC. What would you have? Do you wish me not to do my duty, and follow\nin Amphitryon's footsteps?\n\nCLE. To separate from me so rudely as this, you villain!\n\nMERC. It is a fine subject to make a fuss about! We have still plenty of\ntime to live together!\n\nCLE. But to go in such a churlish manner, without saying a single kind\nword to cheer me!\n\nMERC. Where the deuce shall I dig up silly compliments? Fifteen years of\nmarried life exhaust nonsense; we said all we had to say to each other a\nlong time ago.\n\nCLE. Look at Amphitryon, you rascal; see how his ardour burns for\nAlcmene; and then blush for the little passion that you show your wife.\n\nMERC. But, gracious me! Cleanthis, they are still lovers. There comes\na certain age when all this passes away; what suits them well in these\nearly days would look ridiculous in us, old married people. It would be\nit fine sight to see us embracing each other, and saying sweet nothings!\n\nCLE. Oh! You perfidious wretch, must I give up hope that a heart sighs\nfor me?\n\nMERC. No, I should be sorry to say that; but I have too long a beard to\ndare to sigh; I should make you die of laughter.\n\nCLE. You brute, do you deserve the good fortune of having a virtuous\nwoman for your wife?\n\nMERC. Good Heavens! You are but too virtuous; this fine virtue is not\nworth anything to me. Do not be quite so honest a woman, and don't\nbother me so much.\n\nCLE. What? Do you blame me for being too honest?\n\nMERC. A woman's gentleness is what charms me most: your virtue makes a\nclatter that never ceases to deafen me.\n\nCLE. You care for hearts full of false tenderness, for those women with\nthe laudable and fine talent of knowing how to smother their husbands\nwith caresses in order to make them oblivious of the existence of\nlovers.\n\nMERC. Well! Shall I tell you what I think? An imaginary evil concerns\nfools only; my device should be: 'Less honour and more peace.'\n\nCLE. Would you, without any repugnance, suffer me openly to love a\ngallant?\n\nMERC. Yes, if I were no longer worried by your tongue, and if it\nchanged your temper and your goings-on. I prefer a convenient vice, to\na fatiguing virtue. Adieu, Cleanthis, my dear soul; I must follow\nAmphitryon. (He goes away.)\n\nCLE Why has not my heart sufficient resolution to punish this infamous\nscoundrel? Ah, how it maddens me, now, that I am an honest woman!\n\nEND OF THE FIRST ACT\n\n\n\n\nACT II\n\n\n\nSCENE I\n\nAMPHITRYON, SOSIE\n\nAMPH. Come here, you rascal, come here. Do you know, Master Villain,\nthat your talk is sufficient to cause me to knock you down, and that my\nwrath waits only for a stick to thrash you as I intend?\n\nSOS. If you take it in that way, Monsieur, I have nothing more to say;\nyou will be always in the right.\n\nAMPH. So? You scoundrel, you wish to impose upon me as truths tales\nwhich I know to be extravagantly far-fetched?\n\nSOS. No; I am the servant, and you are the master; it shall not be\notherwise than you wish it, Monsieur.\n\nAMPH. Come, I will choke down the anger that inflames me, and hear all\nyou have to say about your mission. I must unravel this confusion before\nI see my wife. Collect your senses, think well over what you say, and\nanswer each question word for word.\n\nSOS. But, lest I make a mistake, tell me, I beseech you, beforehand, in\nwhat way it would please you to have this affair healed. Shall I speak,\nMonsieur, according to my conscience, or as usual when near the great?\nShall I tell the truth or use a certain complaisance?\n\nAMPH. No; I only wish you to give me a perfectly unvarnished account.\n\nSOS. Good. That is enough; leave it to me; you have, but to interrogate\nme.\n\nAMPH. Upon the order which I lately gave you...\n\nSOS. I set forth under skies veiled in black crape, swearing bitterly\nagainst you for this wretched martyrdom, and cursing twenty times the\norder of which you speak.\n\nAMPH. What do you mean, you villain?\n\nSOS. You have only to speak, Monsieur, and I shall lie, if you desire\nit.\n\nAMPH. That is how a valet shows his zeal for us. Never mind. What\nhappened to you on the way?\n\nSOS. I had a mortal fright at the least thing I met.\n\nAMPH. Poltroon!\n\nSOS. Nature has her caprices in forming us; she gives us differing\ninclinations; some find a thousand delights in exposing themselves; I\nfind them in taking care of myself.\n\nAMPH. When you arrived at the house...?\n\nSOS. When I reached the door, I wished to rehearse to myself for a short\ntime, in what tone and in what manner I should give a glorious account\nof the battle.\n\nAMPH. What followed?\n\nSOS. Some one came to annoy and trouble me.\n\nAMPH. Who was he?\n\nSOS. Sosie; another I, jealous of your orders, whom you sent to Alcmene\nfrom the port, and who has as full knowledge of our secrets as I who am\nspeaking to you.\n\nAMPH. What nonsense!\n\nSOS. No, Monsieur, it is the simple truth: this I was at your house\nsooner than I; and, I swear to you, I was there before I had arrived.\n\nAMPH. Pray, where does all this cursed nonsense come from? Is it a\ndream? Is it drunkenness? Mind-wandering? Or a sorry joke?\n\nSOS. No, it is the thing as it is, and by no means an idle tale. I am\na man of honour, I give you my word, and you must please believe it.\nI tell you, believing I was but one Sosie, I found myself two at your\nhouse; and of these two I's, piqued with jealousy, one is at the house,\nand the other is with you; the I who is here, tired out, found the other\nI fresh, jolly and active, having no other anxiety than to fight and\nbreak bones.\n\nAMPH. I confess I must be of a very placid temper, very peaceable, very\ngentle, to permit a valet to entertain me with such nonsense!\n\nSOS. If you become angry, no more conference between us: you know all\nwill be over at once.\n\nAMPH. No; I will listen to you without being carried away; I promised\nit. But tell me in good earnest, is there any shadow of likelihood in\nthis new mystery which you have just told me?\n\nSOS. No; you are right, the matter must appear to everyone past credit.\nIt is a fact past understanding, an extravagant, ridiculous, far-fetched\ntale: it shocks common sense; but it is none the less a fact.\n\nAMPH. How can anyone believe it, unless he has taken leave of his\nsenses?\n\nSOS. I myself did not believe it without extreme difficulty: I thought\nI was losing my senses when I saw myself two, and, for a long time, I\ntreated my other self as an impostor: but he compelled me in the end\nto recognise myself; I saw it was I, without any trickery; from head to\nfoot he is like me-handsome, a noble air, well built, charming manners;\nin fact, two peas do not resemble each other more; were it not that his\nhands are a little too heavy, I should be perfectly satisfied.\n\nAMPH. I had need exhort myself to patience! But did you not in the end\ngo into the house?\n\nSOS. Good, go in! Ah! In what fashion? Have I never wished to listen to\nreason? Did I not forbid myself to enter our door?\n\nAMPH. In what way?\n\nSOS. With a stick, my back still aches from it.\n\nAMPH. You have been thrashed?\n\nSOS. Truly.\n\nAMPH. And by whom?\n\nSOS. Myself.\n\nAMPH. You have thrashed yourself?\n\nSOS. Yes, I; not the I who is here, but the I from the house, who whacks\nsoundly.\n\nAMPH. Heaven confound you for talking to me like this!\n\nSOS. I am not joking; the I whom I have just met has great advantages\nover the I who speaks to you. He has a strong arm and great courage; I\nhave had proofs of both; this devil of an I has licked me soundly; he is\na fellow who can do wonders.\n\nAMPH. Let us, cease this. Have you seen my wife?\n\nSOS. No.\n\nAMPH. Why not?\n\nSOS. For a sufficiently strong reason.\n\nAMPH. Who hindered you, scoundrel? Explain yourself.\n\nSOS. Must I repeat the same thing twenty times? I, I tell you, this I\nwho is more robust than I, this I who took possession of the door by\nforce, this I who made me slope off, this I who wishes to be the only I,\nthis I who is jealous of myself, this valiant I, whose anger made itself\nknown to this poltroon of an I, in fact, this I who is at our house,\nthis I who has shown himself to be my master, this I who has racked me\nwith pain.\n\nAMPH. His brain must be addled by having had too much to drink this\nmorning.\n\nSOS. May I be hanged if I have had anything to drink but water: I take\nmy oath on it.\n\nAMPH. Then your senses must have been fast asleep: some silly dream has\nshown you all these fairy tales and confused mysteries which you wish me\nto take for truths.\n\nSOS. That is just as far away from the truth. I have not slept, and I do\nnot even feel inclined that way. I am speaking to you wide-awake; I\nwas wide awake this morning, upon my life! And the other Sosie was also\nwide-awake, when he drubbed me so well.\n\nAMPH. Follow me; I order you to be silent. You tire my brain too much;\nI must be an out-and-out fool to have the patience to listen to the\nnonsense a valet has to say.\n\nSOS. All talk is nonsense that comes from a man who is unknown. If a\ngreat man were to say it, it would be exquisite language.\n\nAMPH. Let us go in without waiting any longer. But here comes Alcmene\nclothed in all her charms. Doubtless she does not expect me so soon, and\nmy arrival will surprise her.\n\n\n\nSCENE II\n\nALCMENE, CLEANTHIS, AMPHITRYON, SOSIE\n\nALC. Come, Cleanthis, let us attend the Gods, pay them our homage for\nmy husband's sake, and thank them for the glorious success, of which\nThebes, by his arm, reaps the advantage. O ye Gods!\n\nAMPH. Heaven grant that victorious Amphitryon may be met with renewed\npleasure by his wife: that this day may be favourable to my passion, and\nrestore you to me with the same heart: may I again find as much love as\nmy heart brings to you!\n\nALC. Ah! Have you returned so soon.\n\nAMPH. Really, you give me but a sorry proof of your love; this, 'Ah!\nhave you returned so soon?' is scarcely the language a heart really\ninflamed with love would use on such an occasion as this. I dared to\nflatter myself I had remained away from you too long. The expectation\nof an ardently longed for return makes each moment seem of great length;\nthe absence of what we love, however brief it may be, is always too\nlong.\n\nALC. I do not see...\n\nAMPH. No, Alcmene, time is measured in such cases by one's impatience;\nyou count the moments of absence as one who does not love. When we\nreally love, the slightest separation kills us; the one whom we love to\nsee never returns too soon. I confess that the love I bear you has cause\nto complain of your reception; I expected different expressions of joy\nand tenderness from your heart.\n\nALC. I cannot understand on what you found the words you have just\nuttered; if you complain of me, upon my word I do not know what would\nsatisfy you. I think I showed a sufficiently tender joy last night, at\nyour happy return; my heart responded by every means you could wish to\nthe claims of your affection.\n\nAMPH. In what way?\n\nALC. Did I not clearly show the sudden transports of a perfect joy?\nCould a heart's feelings be better expressed at the return of a husband\nwho is tenderly loved?\n\nAMPH. What do you say?\n\nALC. That even your affection showed an inconceivable joy at my\nreception; and that, as you left me at break of day, I do not see that\nmy surprise at this sudden return is so guilty.\n\nAMPH. Did you, in a dream last night, Alcmene, anticipate in idea the\nreality of my hastened return; and having, perhaps, treated me kindly in\nyour sleep, does your heart think it has fully acquitted itself of its\nduty to my passion?\n\nALC. Has some malignant vapour in your mind, Amphitryon, clouded the\ntruth of last night's return? Does your heart pretend to take away from\nme the credit of all the gentle affection I showed you in my tender\nwelcome?\n\nAMPH. This vapour you attribute to me seems to me somewhat strange.\n\nALC. It is in return for the dream which you attribute to me.\n\nAMPH. Unless it is because of a dream, what you have just now told me is\nentirely inexcusable.\n\nALC. Unless it is a vapour which troubles your mind, what I have heard\nfrom you cannot be justified.\n\nAMPH. Let us leave this vapour for a moment, Alcmene.\n\nALC. Let us leave this dream for a moment, Amphitryon.\n\nAMPH. One cannot jest on the subject in question without being carried\ntoo far.\n\nALC. Undoubtedly; and, as a sure proof of it, I begin to feel somewhat\nuneasy.\n\nAMPH. Is it thus you wish to try to make amends for the welcome of which\nI complain?\n\nALC. Do you desire to try to amuse yourself by this feint?\n\nAMPH. For Heaven's, sake, I beseech you, Alcmene! Let us cease this, and\ntalk seriously.\n\nALC. You carry your amusement too far, Amphitryon: let there be an end\nto this raillery.\n\nAMPH. Do you really dare maintain to my face that I was seen here before\nthis hour?\n\nALC. Have you really the assurance to deny that you came here early\nyesterday evening?\n\nAMPH. I! I came yesterday?\n\nALC. Certainly; and you went away again before dawn.\n\nAMPH. Heavens! Was ever such a debate as this heard before? Who would\nnot be astonished at all this? Sosie?\n\nSOS. She needs six grains of hellebore, Monsieur; her brain is turned.\n\nAMPH. Alcmene, in the name of all the Gods, this discourse will have a\nstrange ending! Recollect your senses a little better, and think what\nyou say.\n\nALC. I am indeed thinking seriously; all in the house saw your arrival.\nI am ignorant what motive makes you act thus; but, if the thing were\nin need of proof, if it were true that such a thing could be forgotten,\nfrom whom, but from you, could I have heard the news of the latest of\nall your battles, and of the five diamonds worn by Pterelas, who was\nplunged into eternal night by the strength of your arm? Could one wish\nfor surer testimony?\n\nAMPH. What? I have already given you the cluster of diamonds which I had\nfor my share, and intended for you?\n\nALC. Assuredly. It is not difficult to convince you thoroughly on that\npoint.\n\nAMPH. How?\n\nALC. Here it is.\n\nAMPH. Sosie!\n\nSOS. She is jesting: I have it here; Monsieur, the feint is useless.\n\nAMPH. The seal is whole.\n\nALC. Is it a vision? There. Will you think this proof strong enough?\n\nAMPH. Ah Heaven! O just Heaven!\n\nALC. Come, Amphitryon, you are joking in acting thus: you ought to be\nashamed of it.\n\nAMPH. Break this seal, quickly.\n\nSOS. (Having opened the casket.) Upon my word, the casket is empty.\nIt must have been taken out by witchcraft, or else it came by itself a\nguide, to her whom it knew it was intended to adorn.\n\nAMPH. O Gods, whose power governs all things, what is this adventure?\nWhat can I augur from it that does not clutch at my heart?\n\nSOS. If she speaks the truth, we have the same lot, and, like me,\nMonsieur, you are double.\n\nAMPH. Be silent.\n\nALC. Why are you so surprised? What causes all this confusion?\n\nAMPH. O Heaven! What strange perplexity! I see incidents which surpass\nNature, and my honour fears an adventure which my mind does not\nunderstand.\n\nALC. Do you still wish to deny your hasty return, when you have this\nsensible proof of it?\n\nAMPH. No; but if it be possible, deign to tell me what passed at this\nreturn.\n\nALC. Since you ask an account of the matter, you still say it was not\nyou?\n\nAMPH. Pardon me; but I have a certain reason which makes me ask you to\ngive us this account.\n\nALC. Have the important cares which perhaps engross you made you so\nquickly lose the remembrance of it?\n\nAMPH. Perhaps; but, in short, you would please me by telling me the\nwhole story.\n\nALC. The story is not long. I advanced towards you full of a delighted\nsurprise; I embraced you tenderly, and showed my joy more than once.\n\nAMPH. (to himself.) Ah! I could have done without so sweet a welcome.\n\nALC. You first made me this valuable gift, which you destined for me\nfrom the spoils of the conquered. Your heart vehemently unfolded to me\nall the violence of its love, and the annoying duties which had kept it\nenchained, the happiness of seeing me again, the torments of absence,\nall the care which your impatience to return had given you; never\nhas your love, on similar occasions, seemed to me so tender and so\npassionate.\n\nAMPH. (to himself.) Can one be more cruelly tortured?\n\nALC. As you may well believe, these transports and this tenderness did\nnot displease me; if I must confess it, Amphitryon, my heart found a\nthousand charms in them.\n\nAMPH. What followed, pray?\n\nALC. We interrupted each other with a thousand questions concerning each\nother. The table was laid. We supped together by ourselves; and, supper\nover, we went to bed.\n\nAMPH. Together?\n\nALC. Assuredly. What a question?\n\nAMPH. Ah; this is the most cruel stroke of all; my jealous passion\ntrembled to assure itself of this.\n\nALC. Why do you blush so deeply at a word? Have I done something wrong\nin going to bed with you?\n\nAMPH. No, to my great misery, it was not I; whoever says I was here\nyesterday, tells, of all falsehoods, the most horrible.\n\nALC. Amphitryon!\n\nAMPH. Perfidious woman!\n\nALC. Ah! What madness is this!\n\nAMPH. No, no; no more sweetness, no more respect; this rebuff puts an\nend to all my constancy; at this ghastly moment, my heart breathes only\nfury and, vengeance.\n\nALC. On whom then would you be avenged? What want of faith in me makes\nyou treat me now as a criminal?\n\nAMPH. I do not know, but it was not I; this despair makes me capable of\nanything.\n\nALC. Away unworthy husband, the deed speaks for itself, the imposture\nis frightful. It is too great an insult to accuse me of infidelity.\nIf these confused transports mean that you seek a pretext to break the\nnuptial bonds which hold me enchained to you, all these pretences are\nsuperfluous, for I am determined that this day all our ties shall be\nbroken.\n\nAMPH. After the unworthy affront, which I now learn has been done me,\nthat is indeed what you must prepare yourself for; it is the least that\ncan be expected; and things may not perhaps remain there. The dishonour\nis sure; my misery is made plain to me; and my pride in vain would hide\nit from me. The details are still not clear: My anger is just and I\nclaim to be enlightened. Your brother can positively avouch that I did\nnot leave him until this morning: I will go and seek him, in order that\nI may confound you about the return falsely imputed to me. Afterwards,\nwe will penetrate to the bottom of a mystery unheard of until now; and,\nin the fury of a righteous anger, woe to him who has betrayed me!\n\nSOS. Monsieur...\n\nAMPH. Do not accompany me, but remain here for me.\n\nCLE. Must I...?\n\nALC. I cannot hear anything: leave me alone: do not follow me.\n\n\n\nSCENE III\n\nCLEANTHIS, SOSIE\n\nCLE. Something must have turned his brain; but the brother will soon\nfinish this quarrel.\n\nSOS. This is a very sharp blow for my master; his fate is cruel.\nI greatly fear something coming for myself. I will go softly in\nenlightening her.\n\nCLE. Let me see whether he will so much as speak to me! I will not\nreveal anything.\n\nSOS. These things are often annoying when one knows about them: I\nhesitate to ask her. Would it not be better not to risk anything, and to\nignore what may have happened? Yet, at all hazard, I must see. I cannot\nhelp myself. Curiosity concerning things which one would rather not know\nis a human weakness. Heaven preserve you, Cleanthis!\n\nCLE. Ah! Ah! You dare to come near me, you villain!\n\nSOS. Good Heavens! What is the matter with you? You are always in a\ntemper, and become angry about nothing!\n\nCLE. What do you call about nothing? Speak out.\n\nSOS. I call about nothing what is called about nothing in verse as well\nas in prose; and nothing, as you well know, means to say nothing, or\nvery little.\n\nCLE. I do not know what keeps me from scratching your eyes out, infamous\nrascal, to teach you how far the anger of a woman can go.\n\nSOS. Hullo! What do you mean by this furious rage?\n\nCLE. Then you call that nothing, perhaps, which you have done to me?\n\nSOS. What was that?\n\nCLE. So? You feign to be innocent? Do you follow the example of your\nmaster and say you did not return here?\n\nSOS. No, I know the contrary too well; but I will be frank with you.\nWe had drunk some wretched wine, which might have made me forget what I\ndid.\n\nCLE. You think, perhaps, to excuse yourself by this trick,...\n\nSOS. No, in truth you may believe me. I was in such a condition that I\nmay have done things I should regret; I do not remember what they were.\n\nCLE. You do not even remember the manner in which you thought fit to\ntreat me when you came from the port?\n\nSOS. Not at all. You had better tell me all about it; I am just and\nsincere, and would condemn myself were I wrong.\n\nCLE. Well? Amphitryon having warned me of your return, I sat up until you\ncame; but I never saw such coldness: I had myself to remind you that you\nhad a wife; and, when I wanted to kiss you, you, turned away your head,\nand gave me your ear.\n\nSOS. Good.\n\nCLE. What do you mean by good?\n\nSOS. Good gracious! You do not know why I talk like this, Cleanthis: I\nhad been eating garlic, and, like a well-bred man, just turned my breath\naway from you.\n\nCLE. I showed you every possible tenderness; but you were as deaf as a\npost to everything I said; never a kind word passed your lips.\n\nSOS. Courage!\n\nCLE. In short, my flame bad to burn alone, its chaste ardour did not\nfind anything in you but ice; you were the culprit in a return that\nmight have been so different: you even went so far as to refuse to take\nyour place in bed, which the laws of wedlock oblige you to occupy.\n\nSOS. What? Did I not go to bed?\n\nCLE. No, you coward.\n\nSOS. Is it possible?\n\nCLE. It is but too true, you rascal. Of all affronts this affront is the\ngreatest; and, instead of your heart repairing its wrong this morning,\nyou left me with words full of undisguised contempt.\n\nSOS. Vivat Sosie!\n\nCLE. Eh, what? Has my complaint had this effect? You laugh at your fine\ngoings on?\n\nSOS. How pleased I am with myself!\n\nCLE. Is this the way to express your grief at such an outrage?\n\nSOS. I should never have believed I could be so prudent.\n\nCLE. Instead of condemning yourself for such a perfidious trick, you\nrejoice at it to my face!\n\nSOS. Good gracious! Gently, gently! If I appear pleased, you must\nbelieve that I have a very strong private reason for it; without\nthinking of it, I never did better than in using you in such a manner as\nI did.\n\nCLE. Are you laughing at me, you villain?\n\nSOS. No, I am speaking openly to you. I was in a wretched state. I had\na certain load, which your words have lifted from my soul. I was very\napprehensive, and feared that I had played the fool with you.\n\nCLE. What is this fear? Come, let us know what you mean.\n\nSOS. The doctors say that, when one is drunk, one should abstain from\none's wife, for, in that condition we can only have children who are\ndull, and who cannot live. Think, if my heart had not armed itself with\ncoldness, what troubles might have followed!\n\nCLE. I do not care a fig for doctors, with their insipid reasonings. Let\nthem rule those who are sick without wishing to govern healthy people.\nThey meddle with too many affairs when they seek to rein in our chaste\ndesires; in addition to the dog days, and their strict rules, they tell\nus a hundred ridiculous stories into the bargain.\n\nSOS. Gently.\n\nCLE. No; I maintain theirs is a worthless conclusion: those reasons come\nfrom idiotic brains. Neither wine nor time ought to prevent the duties\nof conjugal love from being fulfilled; doctors are donkeys.\n\nSOS. I entreat you, moderate your anger against them; they are honest\npeople, whatever the world may say of them.\n\nCLE. Things are not what you think them; you can shut up; your excuse\nwill not go down; and, sooner or later, I tell you plainly, I will\navenge myself for the contempt you show me every day. I remember\neverything you said just now, and I shall try to make use of the liberty\nyou gave me, You faithless, cowardly husband.\n\nSOS. What?\n\nCLE. You told me just now, you villain, that you would heartily agree to\nmy loving another.\n\nSOS. Ah! In that matter I was wrong. I retract; my honour is at stake.\nYou had better beware you do not give way to that sentiment.\n\nCLE. Nevertheless if some time I can make up my mind to the thing...\n\nSOS. Just stop talking for the present. Amphitryon is coming back, and\nhe seems pleased.\n\n\n\nSCENE IV\n\nJUPITER, CLEANTHIS, SOSIE\n\nJUP. I shall take this opportunity of appearing to Alcmene to banish\nthe sorrow in which she wishes to indulge, and, under the pretence\nthat brings me here, I will gratify my passion with the delight of a\nreconciliation with her. Alcmene is upstairs, is she not?\n\nCLE. Yes; she is thoroughly upset and wishes to be left alone: she has\nforbidden me to follow her.\n\nJUP. Whatever prohibition she may have given you does not concern me.\n\nCLE. So far as I can see, his grief has beaten a quick retreat.\n\n\n\nSCENE V\n\nCLEANTHIS, SOSIE\n\nSOS. What do you say, Cleanthis, to these cheerful looks, after his\nterrible rage?\n\nCLE. That we should all do well to send all men to the devil; the best\nof them is not worth much.\n\nSOS. You say that because you are in a passion; but you are too fond of\nmen; upon my word, you would all look as black as thunder if the devil\nwere to take them all away.\n\nCLE. Really...\n\nSOS. Here they come. Hush.\n\n\n\nSCENE VI\n\nJUPITER, ALCMENE, CLEANTHIS, SOSIE\n\nJUP. Do you want to drive me to despair? Alas! Stay, lovely Alcmene.\n\nALC. No, I cannot remain longer with the author of my grief.\n\nJUP. I beseech you\n\nALC. Leave me.\n\nJUP. What...?\n\nALC. Leave me, I tell you.\n\nJUP. Her tears touch me to the heart; her sorrow troubles me. Allow me\nto\n\nALC. No, do not follow me.\n\nJUP. Where are you going?\n\nALC. Where you are not.\n\nJUP. That would be a vain attempt to make. I am linked to your beauty\nby too close a bond to suffer a moment's separation from you. I shall\nfollow you everywhere, Alcmene.\n\nALC. And I shall flee from you everywhere.\n\nJUP. I am very terrible, then!\n\nALC. Yes, more than I can say. Indeed, I look upon you as a frightful\nmonster, a cruel, furious monster, whose approach is to be feared; as a\nmonster to be avoided everywhere. My heart suffers incredible grief\nat the sight of you; it is a torture that overpowers me; I do not know\nanything under Heaven so frightful, horrible and odious, that I could\nnot better endure than you.\n\nJUP. Alas! Do these words really come from your mouth?\n\nALC. I have many more in my heart; I only regret I cannot find words to\nexpress all I feel.\n\nJUP. Ah! What has my heart done to you, Alcmene, that I should be looked\nupon as such a monster?\n\nALC. Oh! Just Heaven! He can ask that? Is it not enough to drive me mad?\n\nJUP. Yet, in a milder spirit...\n\nALC. No; I do not wish either to see or to hear anything of you.\n\nJUP. Have you really the heart to treat me thus? Is this the tender love\nwhich I heard yesterday was to last so long?\n\nALC. No, no, it is not; your base insults have ordained it otherwise.\nThat passionate and tender love does not exist any longer; you have\ncruelly killed it in my heart by a hundred keen wounds. In its\nplace stands an inflexible wrath, a lively resentment, an invincible\nindignation, the despair of a heart justly incensed, which resolves to\nhate you for this grievous injury, as much as it was willing to love\nyou; that is to say to hate as much as possible.\n\nJUP. Alas! Your love must have had but little strength, if it can be\nkilled by so slight a matter! Can a jest divorce us? Is there any need\nto be so roused at a trifle?\n\nALC. Ah! It is just that which offends me: that which my anger cannot\npardon. I should have felt less wounded by the justifiable transports\nof a fit of jealousy. Jealousy makes impressions the force of which\noftentimes carries us beyond our control; at such times the most\ndiscreet mind, no doubt, finds it difficult enough to answer for its\ndeeds. The violence of a heart which may have been deluded has, in its\nvery delusion, a peace-offering for an aggrieved soul, and the love that\ngave birth to its fears, furnishes, in spite of all its violence, at\nleast some reasons to urge as excuse. Outbursts such as these ever have\nlove as an excuse against anger: for love gave birth to them, and we can\neasily pardon what we cannot control.\n\nBut to fly into uncontrollable fury, in gaiety of heart, and so\ncauselessly and keenly to wound the tenderness and honour of a heart\nthat dearly loves you, ah! It is too cruel a blow: my grief can never\nforget it.\n\nJUP. Yes, you are right, Alcmene; I admit it. This action is\nunquestionably an odious crime; I do not pretend to justify it longer:\nyet allow my heart to defend itself in your eyes, and let it reveal to\nyou who is to blame for this insulting fury. To tell you frankly, it is\nthe husband Alcmene, who has done this wrong; it is the husband whom you\nmust blame. The lover has no share in this churlish anger: his heart is\nnot capable of offending you. He has too much respect and affection for\nyou ever to think of it; had he been guilty of the crime of doing aught\nthat could wound you, he would pierce himself with a hundred stabs\nbefore your eyes. But the husband has cast aside that humble submission\nwhich should always be yours; by his harsh deeds, the husband has made\nhimself known; he thought the rights of marriage allowed him everything.\nYes, it is he no doubt who is guilty towards you; he only has\nill-treated your lovely person. Hate, detest the husband; I consent to\nit; I yield him to your mercy; but, Alcmene, spare the lover from\nthe anger which such an offence gives you; do not let him suffer;\ndifferentiate between him and the guilty one; and, finally, in order to\nbe just, do not punish him for what he has not done.\n\nALC. Oh! All these subtleties are but frivolous excuses; such language\nonly annoys incensed minds. In vain do you use these ridiculous\nprevarications. I do not make any distinction in him who offends me;\neverything in him becomes the object of my anger, the lover and the\nhusband are alike confounded in its just violence. Both occupy my\nthoughts; both are painted in the same colours by my wounded heart. Both\nare guilty; both have offended me; and both are odious to me.\n\nJUP. Well! Then, since you wish it, I must charge myself with the\noffence. Yes, you are right, when you sacrifice me as a guilty victim to\nyour resentment. Anger towards me sways you; it is but too just, and all\nthe terrible wrath you show causes me to suffer only lawful torments. It\nis right you should shun my presence, and in your anger threaten to flee\nfrom me everywhere. I must be a detestable object to you; you are right\nin thinking ill of me. My crime in being offensive in your charming\neyes surpasses every horror; it is a crime that offends men and Gods; in\nshort, as punishment for my insolence I deserve that your hatred should\nvent its utmost upon me. I beg your forgiveness, I beg it upon my knees,\nI beg it for the sake of the most lively passion, of the tenderest love\nfor you, which has ever been kindled in a human breast. If, charming\nAlcmene, your heart refuses me the pardon which I have the audacity to\nseek, then shall a well-aimed stroke put an end to my life, and release\nme from the harsh severity of a penalty which I can no longer bear. Yes,\nthis state of things drives me to despair. Do not think, Alcmene, that,\nenamoured as I am of your celestial charms, I can live a day under your\nwrath. Even these moments' agony is barbarously prolonged and my sad\nheart sinks under their mortal blows. The cruel wounds of a thousand\nvultures are not comparable in any way to my lively grief. Alcmene, you\nhave but to tell me I need not hope for pardon: and immediately this\nsword, by a happy thrust, shall pierce the heart of a miserable wretch\nbefore your eyes. This heart, this traitorous heart, too deserving of\ndeath, since it has offended an adorable being, will be happy if, in\ndescending into the place of shades, my death appeases your anger, and,\nafter this wretched day, it leaves in your soul no impression of hatred\nin remembering my love! This is all I ask as a sovereign favour.\n\nALC. Ah! Cruel husband.\n\nJUP. Speak, Alcmene, speak.\n\nALC. Must I still keep some kindness for you, who insult me by so many\nindignities?\n\nJUP. Whatever resentment an outrage causes us, can it hold out against\nthe remorse of a heart deeply in love?\n\nALC. A heart full of passion would rather expose itself to a thousand\ndeaths, than offend the object beloved.\n\nJUP. The more one loves, the easier it is\n\nALC. No, do not speak to me any longer about it; you deserve my hatred.\n\nJUP. You hate me then?\n\nALC. I make every effort to do so, and it annoys me to feel that all\nyour insults do not yet carry my vengeance so far as yield to it.\n\nJUP. But why this violence, since I offer to kill myself to satisfy your\nrevenge? Pronounce the sentence and immediately I will obey.\n\nALC. It is impossible to wish for another's death if hatred be absent.\n\nJUP. I cannot live unless you abandon the wrath that overwhelms me, and\nunless you grant me the favour of a pardon which I beg at your feet.\nDecide to do one or the other quickly: to punish, or to absolve.\n\nALC. Alas! The only resolution I can take is but too clearly apparent.\nMy heart has too plainly betrayed me, for me to wish to maintain this\nanger: is it not to say we pardon, when we say we cannot hate?\n\nJUP. Ah, charming Alcmene, overwhelmed with delight I must...\n\nALC. Forbear: I hate myself for such weakness.\n\nJUP. Go, Sosie, make haste; a sweet joy fills my soul. See what officers\nof the army you can find, and ask them to dine with me. (Softly aside.)\nMercury can fill his post, while he is away from here.\n\n\n\nSCENE VII\n\nCLEANTHIS, SOSIE\n\nSOS. Come! Now, you see, this couple, Cleanthis. Will you follow\ntheir example, and let us also make peace? Indulge in some slight\nreconciliation?\n\nCLE. For the sake of your lovely mug, Oh yes! I will, and no mistake.\n\nSOS. What? You will not?\n\nCLE. No.\n\nSOS. It doesn't matter to me. So much the worse for you.\n\nCLE. Well, well, come back.\n\nSOS. No, not, likely! I shall not do anything of the kind, I shall be\nangry. I turn now.\n\nCLE. Go away, you villain, let me alone; one gets tired now and then of\nbeing an honest woman.\n\nEND OF THE SECOND ACT\n\n\n\n\nACT III\n\n\n\nSCENE I\n\nAMPHITRYON\n\nYes, so doubt fate hides him purposely from me; at last am I tired of\ntrying to find him. I do not know anything that can be more cruel than\nmy lot. In spite of all my endeavours, I cannot find him whom I seek;\nall those I do not seek I find. A thousand tiresome bores, who do not\nthink they are so, drive me mad with their congratulations on our feats\nof arms, although they know little of me. In the cruel embarrassment and\nanxiety that troubles me, they all burden me with their attentions, and\ntheir rejoicings make my uneasiness worse. In vain I try to pass them\nby, to flee from their persecutions; their killing friendship stops me\non all sides; whilst I reply to the ardour of their expressions by a nod\nof the head, I mutter under my breath a hundred curses on them. Ah! How\nlittle we are flattered by praise, honour and all that a great victory\nbrings, when inwardly we suffer keen sorrow! How willingly would I\nexchange all this glory to have peace of mind! At every turn my jealousy\ntwits me with my disgrace; the more my mind ponders over it, the less\ncan I unravel its miserable confusion. The theft of the diamonds does\nnot astonish me; seals may be tampered with unperceived; but my most\ncruel torment is that she insists I gave the gift to her personally\nyesterday. Nature oftentimes produces resemblances, which some impostors\nhave adopted in order to deceive; but it is inconceivable that, under\nthese appearances, a man should pass himself off as a husband; there are\na thousand differences in a relationship such as this which a wife could\neasily detect. The marvellous effects of Thessalian magic have at all\ntimes been renowned; but I have always looked upon as idle tales the\nfamous stories everyone talks of. It would be a hard fate if I, after so\nglorious a victory elsewhere, should be compelled to believe them at\nthe cost of my own honour. I will question her again upon this wretched\nmystery, and see if it is not a silly fancy that has taken advantage of\nher disordered brain. O righteous Heaven, may this thought be true, and\nmay she even have lost her senses, so that I may be happy!\n\n\n\nSCENE II\n\nMERCURY, AMPHITRYON\n\nMERC. Since love does not offer me any pleasure here, I will at least\nenjoy myself in another way, and enliven my dismal leisure by putting\nAmphitron out of all patience. This may not be very charitable in a\nGod; but I shall not bother myself about that; my planet tells me I am\nsomewhat given to malice.\n\nAMPH. How is it that the door is closed at this hour?\n\nMERC. Hullo! Gently, gently! Who knocks?\n\nAMPH. I.\n\nMERC. Who, I?\n\nAMPH. Ah! Open.\n\nMERC. What do you mean by 'open'? Who are you, pray, to make such a row,\nand speak like that?\n\nAMPH. So? You do not know me?\n\nMERC. No, nor have I the least wish to.\n\nAMPH. Is every one losing his senses today? Is the malady spreading?\nSosie! Hullo, Sosie!\n\nMERC. Come, now! Sosie: that is my name; are you afraid I shall forget\nit?\n\nAMPH. Do you see me?\n\nMERC. Well enough. What can possess your arm to make such an uproar?\nWhat do you want down there?\n\nAMPH. I, you gallows-bird! What do I want?\n\nMERC. What do you not want then? Speak, if you want to be understood.\n\nAMPH. Listen, you villain: I will come up with a stick to make you\nunderstand, and give you a fine lesson. How dare you speak to me like\nthat?\n\nMERC. Softly, softly! If you make the least attempt to create an uproar,\nI shall send you down some messengers who will annoy you.\n\nAMPH. Oh Heavens! Did anyone ever conceive such insolence? And from a\nservant, from a beggar?\n\nMERC. Come, now! What is the matter? Have you gone over everything\ncorrectly? Have your big eyes taken everything in? He glares, so savage\nhe looks! If looks could bite, he would have torn me to shreds by now.\n\nAMPH. I tremble at what you are bringing upon yourself with all this\nimpudent talk. What a frightful storm you are brewing for yourself! What\na tempest of blows will storm down on your back!\n\nMERC. If you do not soon disappear from here, my friend, you may come in\nfor some mauling.\n\nAMPH. Ah! You villain, you shall know to your confusion what it is for a\nvalet to attack his master.\n\nMERC. You, my master?\n\nAMPH. Yes, rascal. Do you dare to say you do not recognise me?\n\nMERC. I do not recognise any other master than Amphitryon.\n\nAMPH. And who, besides myself, may this Amphitryon be?\n\nMERC. Amphitryon?\n\nAMPH. Certainly.\n\nMERC. Ah! What an illusion! Come, tell me in what decent tavern you have\naddled your brain?\n\nAMPH. What? Again?\n\nMERC. Was it a feast-day wine?\n\nAMPH. Heavens!\n\nMERC. Was it old or new?\n\nAMPH. What insults!\n\nMERC. New goes to one's head, if drunk without water.\n\nAMPH. Ah! I shall tear your tongue out soon.\n\nMERC. Pass on, my dear friend; believe me, no one here will listen to\nyou. I respect wine. Go away, make yourself scarce, and leave Amphitryon\nto the pleasures which he is tasting.\n\nAMPH. What! Is Amphitryon in there?\n\nMERC. Rather: covered with the laurels of his fine victory, he is side\nby side with the lovely Alcmene enjoying the delights of a charming\ntete-a-tete. They are tasting the pleasures of being reconciled, now\ntheir love-tiff has blown over. Take care how you disturb their sweet\nprivacy, unless you wish him to punish you for your excessive rashness.\n\n\n\nSCENE III\n\nAMPHITRYON\n\nAh! What a frightful blow he has given me! How cruelly has he put me to\nconfusion! If matters are as this villain says, to what a state are my\nhonour and my affection reduced? What course can I adopt? Am I to noise\nit abroad or keep it secret? Ought I, in my anger, to keep the dishonour\nof my house to myself or make it public? Come! Must one even think what\nto do in so gross an affront? I have no standing, nothing to hope for;\nall my anxiety now shall be how to avenge myself.\n\n\n\nSCENE IV\n\nSOSIE, NAUCRATES, POLIDAS, AMPHITRYON\n\nSOS. All I have been able to do, Monsieur, with all my diligence, is to\nhave brought these gentlemen here.\n\nAMPH. Ah! You are here?\n\nSOS. Monsieur.\n\nAMPH. Insolent, bold rascal!\n\nSOS. What?\n\nAMPH. I shall teach you to treat me thus.\n\nSOS. What is it? What is the matter with you?\n\nAMPH. What is the matter with me, villain?\n\nSOS. Hullo, gentlemen, come here quickly.\n\nNAU. Ah! Stay, I beseech you.\n\nSOS. Of what am I guilty?\n\nAMPH. You ask me that, you scoundrel? Let me satisfy my righteous anger.\n\nSOS. When they hang any one, they tell him why they do it.\n\nNAU. At least condescend to tell us what his crime may be.\n\nSOS. I beseech you, gentlemen, keep a tight hold of me.\n\nAMPH. Yes! He has just had the audacity to shut the door in my face, and\nto add threats to a thousand impudent jeers! Ah! You villain!\n\nSOS. I am dead.\n\nNAU. Restrain this anger.\n\nSOS. Gentlemen.\n\nPOL. What is it?\n\nSOS. Has he struck me?\n\nAMPH. No, he must have his reward for the language he has made free to\nuse just now.\n\nSOS. How could that be when I was elsewhere busy carrying out your\norders? These gentlemen here can bear witness that I have just invited\nthem to dine with you.\n\nNAU. That is true: he has just delivered us this message, and would not\nquit us.\n\nAMPH. Who gave you that order?\n\nSOS. You.\n\nAMPH. When?\n\nSOS. After you made your peace, when you were rejoicing at the delight\nof having appeased Alcmene's anger.\n\nAMPH. O Heaven! Every instant, every step, adds something to my cruel\nmartyrdom; I am so utterly confused that I no longer know either what to\nbelieve or what to say.\n\nNAU. All he has just told us, of what has happened at your house,\nsurpasses what is natural so much, that before doing anything and before\nflying into such a passion, you ought to clear up the whole of this\nadventure.\n\nAMPH. Come; you can second my efforts; Heaven has brought you here most\nopportunely. Let me see what fortune brings me today; let me solve this\nmystery, and know my fate. Alas! I burn to learn it, and I dread it more\nthan death.\n\n\n\nSCENE V\n\nJUPITER, AMPHITRYON, NAUCRATES, POLIDAS, SOSIE\n\nJUP. What is this noise that compels me to come down? Who knocks as\nthough he were master where I am master?\n\nAMPH. Good Gods! What do I see?\n\nNAU. Heaven! What prodigy is this? What? Here are two Amphitryons!\n\nAMPH. My soul is struck dumb. Alas! I cannot do anything more: the\nadventure is at an end; my fate is clear; what I see tells me all.\n\nNAU. The more narrowly I watch them, the more I find they resemble each\nother.\n\nSOS. Gentlemen, this is the true one; the other is an impostor who ought\nto be chastised.\n\nPOL. Truly, this marvellous resemblance keeps my judgment in suspense.\n\nAMPH. We have been tricked too long by an execrable rogue; I must break\nthe spell with this steel.\n\nNAU. Stay.\n\nAMPH. Leave me alone.\n\nNAU. Ye Gods! What would you do?\n\nAMPH. Punish the miserable treachery of an impostor.\n\nJUP. Gently, gently! There is very little need of being carried away\nby passion; when a man bursts out in such a rage as this, it makes one\nthink he has bad reasons.\n\nSOS. Yes; it is an enchanter, who has a talisman that enables him to\nresemble the masters of houses.\n\nAMPH. For your share in this insulting language, I shall make you feel a\nthousand blows.\n\nSOS. My master is a man of courage: he will not allow his followers to\nbe thrashed.\n\nAMPH. Let me assuage my deep anger, and wash out my affront in the\nscoundrel's blood.\n\nNAU. We shall not suffer this strange combat of Amphitryon against\nhimself.\n\nAMPH. What? Does my honour receive this treatment from you? Do my\nfriends undertake the defence of a rogue? Far from being the first to\ntake up my vengeance, they themselves place obstacles in the way of my\nresentment?\n\nNAU. What do you wish us to decide, when two Amphitryons are before us\nand all the warmth of our friendship is in suspense? If we were now to\nshow towards you, we fear we might make a mistake, and not recognise\nyou. Truly we see in you the appearance of Amphitryon, the glorious\nsupport of the Thebans' well-being; but we also see the same appearance\nin him, and we cannot judge which he is. Our duty is not doubtful,\nthe impostor ought to bite the dust at our hands; but this perfect\nresemblance hides him between you two; and it is too hazardous a stroke\nto undertake in the dark. Let us find out quietly on which side the\nimposture may be; then, as soon as we have unravelled the adventure, it\nwill not be necessary for you to tell us our duty.\n\nJUP. Yes, you are right, this resemblance authorises you to doubt both\nof us. I am not offended to see you cannot make up your minds: I am more\nreasonable, and excuse you. The eye cannot differentiate between us. I\nsee one can easily be mistaken. You do not see me give way to anger, nor\ndraw my sword: that is a bad way to enlighten a mystery; I can find one\nmore gentle and more certain. One of us is Amphitryon; and both of us\nmay seem so in your eyes. It is for me to end this confusion. I intend\nto make myself so well known to all, that, at the overwhelming proofs I\nshall bring forward to show who I am, he himself shall agree concerning\nthe blood from which I sprang, and he shall no longer have occasion to\nsay anything. Before all the Thebans I will reveal the truth to you;\nthe affair is, unquestionably, of sufficient importance to justify my\nseeking to clear it up in the sight of all. Alcmene expects this public\ntestimony from me; her virtue, which is outraged by the noise of this\nmischance, demands justification, and I will see justice is done it. My\nlove for her compels me to it. I shall call together an assembly of the\nnoblest chiefs, for the explanation her honour requires. While waiting\nwith you for these desirable witnesses, I pray you to condescend to\nhonour the table to which Sosie has invited you.\n\nSOS. I was not mistaken, gentlemen, this word puts an end to all\nirresolution: the real Amphitryon is the Amphitryon who gives dinners.\n\nAMPH. O Heaven! Can my humiliation go further? Must I indeed suffer the\nmartyrdom of listening to all that this impostor has just said to my\nface, my arms bound, though his words drive me mad?\n\nNAU. You are wrong to complain. Let us await the explanation which shall\nrender resentment seasonable. I do not know whether he imposes upon us\nor not; but he speaks on the matter as though he were right.\n\nAMPH. Go, you weak-kneed friends, and flatter the imposture. Thebes has\nother friends who will flock round me, different from you. I will go and\nfind some who, sharing the insult, will know how to lend their hand in\nmy just cause.\n\nJUP. Ah well! I await them; I shall know how to decide the discussion in\ntheir presence.\n\nAMPH. You rogue, you think perhaps to evade justice thus; but nothing\nshall shield you from my vengeance.\n\nJUP. I shall not now condescend to answer this insulting language; soon\nI shall be able to confound your fury with two words.\n\nAMPH. Not Heaven, not Heaven itself can protect you: I shall dog your\nfootsteps even to Hell.\n\nJUP. It will not be necessary; you will soon see I shall not fly away.\n\nAMPH. Now, before he goes away with these, I will make haste to gather\ntogether friends who will aid my cause; they will come to my house and\nhelp me to pierce him with a thousand thrusts.\n\nJUP. No ceremony, I implore you; let us go quickly into the house.\n\nNAU. Really, this adventure utterly confounds the senses and the reason.\n\nSOS. A truce, gentlemen, to all your surprises; let us joyfully sit down\nto feed until the morning. I intend to feast well, so that I may be in\ngood condition to relate our valiant deeds! I am itching to attack the\ndishes; I never felt so hungry.\n\n\n\nSCENE VI\n\nMERCURY, SOSIE\n\nMERC. Stop. What have you come to poke your nose in here for, you\nimpudent turn-spit?\n\nSOS. Ah! Gently, gently, for mercy's sake!\n\nMERC. Ah! You have come back again! I shall tan your hide for you.\n\nSOS. Ah! Brave and generous I, compose yourself, I beseech you. Sosie,\nspare Sosie a little, and do not divert yourself by knocking yourself\ndown.\n\nMERC. Who gave you liberty to call yourself by that name? Did I not\nexpressly forbid you to do so, under penalty of experiencing a thousand\ncuts from the cane?\n\nSOS. It is a name we both may bear at the same time, under the same\nmaster. I am recognised as Sosie everywhere; I permit you to be he,\npermit me to be so, too. Let us leave it to the two Amphitryons to give\nvent to their jealousies, and, though they contend, let the two Sosies\nlive in the bonds of peace.\n\nMERC. No, one is quite enough; I am determined not to allow any\ndivision.\n\nSOS. You shall have precedence over me; I will be the younger, and you\nshall be the elder.\n\nMERC. No: a brother is a nuisance, and not to my taste; I intend to be\nthe only son.\n\nSOS. O barbarous and tyrannical heart! Allow me at least to be your\nshadow.\n\nMERC. Not at all.\n\nSOS. Let your soul humanise itself with a little pity! Allow me to be\nnear you in that capacity: I shall be everywhere so submissive a shadow\nthat you will be pleased with me.\n\nMERC. No quarter; the law is immutable. If you again have the audacity\nto go in there, a thousand blows shall be the fruit.\n\nSOS. Alas! Poor Sosie, to what miserable disgrace are you reduced!\n\nMERC. So? Your lips presume again to give yourself a name I forbid!\n\nSOS. No, I did not intend myself; I was speaking of an old Sosie, who\nwas formerly a relative of mine, and whom, with the utmost barbarity,\nthey drove out of the house at dinner hour.\n\nMERC. Take care you do not fall into that idiocy if you wish to remain\namong the number of the living.\n\nSOS. How I would thwack you if I had the courage, for your wretched\npuffed up pride, you double son of a strumpet!\n\nMERC. What do you say?\n\nSOS. Nothing.\n\nMERC. I am sure you muttered something.\n\nSOS. Ask anyone; I do not breathe.\n\nMERC. Nevertheless I am absolutely certain that something about a son of\na strumpet struck my ear.\n\nSOS. It must have been a parrot roused by the beautiful weather.\n\nMERC. Adieu. If your back itches for a currying, here is where I live.\n\nSOS. O Heavens! What a cursed hour is the dinner hour to be turned out\nof doors! Come, let us yield to fate in our affliction. Let us today\nfollow blind caprice, and join the unfortunate Sosie to the unfortunate\nAmphitryon: it is a suitable union. I see he is coming in good company.\n\n\n\nSCENE VII\n\nAMPHITRYON, ARGATIPHONTIDAS, POSICLES, SOSIE\n\nAMPH. Stay here, gentlemen, follow me a little way off, and do not all\nadvance, I pray you, until there is need for it.\n\nPOS. I quite understand this blow touches you to the heart.\n\nAMPH. Ah! My sorrow is bitter through and through: I suffer in my\naffection, as much as in my honour.\n\nPOS. If this resemblance is such as is said, Alcmene, without being\nguilty...\n\nAMPH. Ah! In this affair, a simple error becomes a veritable crime,\nand, though no way consenting, innocence perishes in it. Such errors,\nin whatever way we look at them, affect us in the most sensitive parts;\nreason often, often pardons them, when honour and love cannot.\n\nARGAT. I do not bother my thoughts about that; but I hate your gentlemen\nfor their disgraceful delay; it is a proceeding which wounds me to the\nquick, and one which courageous people will never approve. When any\nman has need of us, we ought to throw ourselves headforemost into his\nconcerns. Argatiphontidas is not one for compromising matters. It is\nnot seemly for men of honour to listen to the arguments of a friend's\nadversary; one should only listen to vengeance at such times. The\nproceeding does not please me; in quarrels such as these we ought always\nto begin sending the sword through the body, without any nonsense. Yes,\nwhatever happens, you shall see that Argatiphontidas goes straight to\nthe point. I entreat you not to let the villain die by any other hand\nthan mine.\n\nAMPH. Come on.\n\nSOS. I come, Monsieur, to undergo at your knees the just punishment of\ncursed audacity. Strike, beat, drub, overwhelm me with blows, kill me\nin your anger; you will do well, I deserve it; I shall not say a single\nword against you.\n\nAMPH. Get up. What is the matter?\n\nSOS. I have been turned away unceremoniously; thinking to eat and\nrejoice like them, I did not think that, as it turned out, I was waiting\nthere to thrash myself. Yes, the other I, valet to the other you, has\nplayed the very devil with me once more. The same cruel fate seems to\npursue us both today, Monsieur. In short, they have un-Sosied me, as\nthey un-Amphitryon'd you.\n\nAMPH. Follow me.\n\nSOS. Is it not better to see if anybody is coming?\n\n\n\nSCENE VIII\n\nCLEANTHIS, NAUCRATES, POLIDAS, SOSIE, AMPHITRYON,\n\nARGATIPHONTIDAS, POSICLES\n\nCLE. O Heaven!\n\nAMPH. What frightens you like this? Why are you afraid of me?\n\nCLE. Why! You are up there and I see you here!\n\nNAU. Do not hurry; here he comes to give, before us all, the explanation\nwe want. If we may believe what he has just said about it, it will\nbanish away your trouble and care.\n\n\n\nSCENE IX\n\nMERCURY, CLEANTHIS, NAUCRATES, POLIDAS, SOSIE, AMPHITRYON,\nARGATIPHONTIDAS, POSICLES\n\nMERC. Yes, you shall all see him; know beforehand that it is the\ngrand master of the Gods, whom, under the cherished features of this\nresemblance, Alcmene has caused to descend here from the heavens. As\nfor me, I am Mercury. Not knowing what else to do, I have given him\na drubbing whose appearance I took. He may now console himself, for\nstrokes from the wand of a God confer honour on him who has to submit to\nthem.\n\nSOS. Upon my word, Monsieur God, I am your servant; I could have done\nwithout your attentions.\n\nMERC. I now give you leave to be Sosie. I am tired of wearing such an\nugly mug; I am going to the heavens, to scrape it all off with ambrosia.\n(He flies away to the skies.)\n\nSOS. May Heaven forever keep you from the desire of wishing to come near\nme again! Your fury against me has been too bitter; never in my life\nhave I seen a God who was more of a devil than you!\n\n\n\nSCENE X\n\nJUPITER, CLEANTHIS, NAUCRATES, POLIDAS, SOSIE, AMPHITRYON,\nARGATIPHONTIDAS, POSICLES\n\nJUP. (In a cloud,) Behold, Amphitryon, who has imposed on you; under his\nown aspect you see Jupiter. By these signs you may easily know him; they\nare sufficient, I think, to restore your heart where it should be to\nbring back peace and happiness to your family. My name, which the whole\nearth continually adores, thus stifles all scandal that might be spread\nabroad. A share with Jupiter has nothing that in the least dishonours,\nfor doubtless, it can be but glorious to find one's self the rival of\nthe sovereign of the Gods. I do not see any reason why your love should\nmurmur; it is I, God as I am, who ought to be jealous in this affair.\nAlcmene is wholly yours, whatever means one may employ; it must be\ngratifying to your passion to see that there is no other way of pleasing\nher than to appear as her husband. Even Jupiter, clothed in his immortal\nglory, could not by himself undermine her fidelity; what he has received\nfrom her was granted by her ardent heart only to you.\n\nSOS. The Seigneur Jupiter knows how to gild the pill.\n\nJUP. Cast aside, therefore, the black care that stifles your heart;\nrestore perfect peace to the ardour which consumes you. In your house\nshall be born a son, who, under the name of Hercules, shall cause the\nvast universe to ring with his deeds. A glorious future crowned with\na thousand blessings shall let every one see I am your support; I will\nmake your fate the envy of the whole world. You may boldly flatter\nyourself with what these promises confer. It is a crime to doubt them,\nfor the words of Jupiter are the decrees of fate. (He is lost in the\nclouds.)\n\nNAU. Truly, I am delighted at these evident marks...\n\nSOS. Gentlemen, will you please take my advice? Do not embark in\nthese sugary congratulations; it is a bad speculation; phrases are\nembarrassing on either side, in such a compliment. The great God Jupiter\nhas done us much honour, and, unquestionably, his kindness towards us\nis unparalleled; he promises us the infallible happiness of a fortune\ncrowned with a thousand blessings, and in our house shall be born a\nbrave son. Nothing could be better than this. But, nevertheless, let us\ncut short our speeches, and each one retire quietly to his own house. In\nsuch affairs as these, it is always best not to say anything.","title":"Amphitryon","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":15549}