No More Learning

[Exeunt.
Harpagon [ from the garden, rushing in without his hat]-
Thieves! thieves! assassins! murder! Justice, just heavens! I
am undone; I am murdered; they have cut my throat; they have
stolen my money! Who can it be? What has become of him?
Where is he? Where is he hiding himself ? What shall I do to
find him ? Where shall I run ? Where shall I not run ? Is he
not here ? — Who is this? Stop! [To himself, taking hold of his
own arm. ] Give me back my money, wretch! — Ah! it is myself.
— My mind is wandering, and I know not where I am, who I am,
and what I am doing. Alas! my poor money! my poor money!
my dearest friend, they have bereaved me of thee; and since
thou art gone, I have lost my support, my consolation, and my
-


## p. 10168 (#596) ##########################################

10168
MOLIÈRE
joy. All is ended for me, and I have nothing more to do in
the world! Without thee it is impossible for me to live. It is
all over with me; I can bear it no longer. I am dying; I am
dead; I am buried. Is there nobody who will call me from
the dead, by restoring my dear money to me, or by telling
me who has taken it? Ah! what is it you say ?
It is no one.
Whoever has committed the deed must have watched carefully
for his opportunity, and must have chosen the very moment
when I was talking with my miscreant of a son. I must go. I
will demand justice, and have the whole of my house put to
the torture,- my maids and my valets, my son, my daughter,
and myself too. What a crowd of people are assembled here!
Every one seems to be my thief.
I see
one who does not
rouse suspicion in me. Ha! what are they speaking of there?
Of him who stole my money? What noise is that up yonder?
Is it my thief who is there? For pity's sake, if you know any-
thing of my thief, I beseech you to tell me. Is he hiding there
among you ? They all look at me and laugh. We shall see that
they all have a share in the robbery. Quick! magistrates, police,
provosts, judges, racks, gibbets, and executioners. I will hang
everybody; and if I do not find my money, I will hang myself
afterwards.
Translation by Charles Heron Wall.
no
ALCESTE ACCUSES CÉLIMÈNE
From "The Misanthrope)
LCESTE
A
-Oh, heaven! may I control my just anger!
Célimène [aside]— Ah! [To Alceste. ] What is this new
trouble I see you in? what mean those deep sighs and those
dark looks you cast upon me ?
Alceste - That all the wickedness a soul is capable of can in
nothing be compared to your perfidy; that fate, devils, and in-
censed Heaven never produced anything so worthless as yourself.
Célimène — These are pretty speeches, which I certainly ad-
mire.
Alceste - Ah! no more jesting; this is not a time for laughter.
Rather let the blush of shame cover your face; you have cause,
for your treachery is known. So the presentiments of my heart


## p. 10169 (#597) ##########################################

MOLIÈRE
10169
were true; its alarms were but too well founded, and those fre-
quent suspicions which were thought odious were true guides to
what my eyes have now seen. Yes, in spite of all your skill in
dissimulation, Heaven hinted to me what I had to fear. But do
not think that I shall bear this insult unavenged. I know that
it is not in our power to govern our inclinations; that love is
always spontaneous; that we cannot enter a heart by force, and
that every heart is free to name its conqueror.
I would not com-
plain, therefore, if you had from the first spoken to me without
dissembling; for although you would have crushed within me the
very springs of my life, I should have blamed my fate alone for
it. But to think that my love was encouraged by you! It is such
a treacherous, such a perfidious action, that no punishment seems
too great for it. After such an outrage, fear everything from
me: I am no longer master of myself; anger has conquered me.
Pierced to the heart by the cruel blow with which you kill
me, my senses are not overswayed by reason. I yield myself up
to a just revenge, and I cannot answer for what I may do.
Célimène — What can have called forth such an insult ? Have
you lost all sense and judgment ? Pray speak!
Alceste — Yes, when on seeing you I drank in the poison which
is killing me; yes, when like a fool I thought I had found some
sincerity in those treacherous charms that have deceived me.
Célimène - Of what treachery are you complaining ?
Alceste -- Ah! false heart, how well you feign ignorance! But
I will leave you no loop-hole of escape! Look at your own
handwriting; this letter is sufficient to confound you; against such
evidence you can have nothing to answer.
Célimène — So this is the cause of your strange outburst.
Alceste — And you do not blush at the sight?
Célimène — There is no occasion for me to blush.
Alceste -- What! will you add audacity to your deceit ? Will
you disown this letter because it is not signed ?
Célimène — Why should I disown it, when it is mine?
Alceste — And you can look at it without being ashamed of
the crime of which it shows you to be guilty towards me ?
Célimène — You are in truth a most foolish man.
Alceste — What! you face thus calmly this all-convincing
proof? And the tenderness you show in it for Oronte, has it
nothing that can outrage me or shame you ?
Célimène Oronte! Who told you that this letter is for
him ?
-


## p. 10170 (#598) ##########################################

MOLIÈRE
10170
But sup-
Alceste — Those who to-day put it in my hands.
pose I grant that it is for another, have I less cause to complain?
and would you be in fact less guilty towards me?
Célimène — But if the letter was written to a woman, in what
can it hurt you, and what guilt is there in it?
Alceste — Ah! the evasion is excellent, and the excuse admira-
ble! I must acknowledge that I did not expect such deceit, and
I am now altogether convinced. What! do you dare to have
recourse to such base tricks ? Do you think people entirely de-
void of understanding ? Show me a little in what way you can
maintain such a palpable falsehood, and how you can apply to a
woman all the words which in this letter convey so much ten-
derness. In order to cover your infidelity, reconcile if you can
what I am going to read to —
Célimène — No, I will not. What right have you to assume
such authority, and to dare to tell me such things to my face?
Alceste - No, no: instead of giving way to anger, try to ex-
plain to me the expressions you use here.
Célimène — I shall do nothing of the kind; and what you
think on the subject matters very little to me.
Alceste - For pity's sake, show me, and I shall be satisfied,
that this letter can be explained to be meant for a woman.
Célimène -- It is for Oronte; there! and I will have you be-
lieve it. I receive all his attentions gladly. I admire what he
says; I like his person, and I admit whatever you please. Do as
you like, take your own course, let nothing stop you, and annoy
me no more.
Alceste [aside] - Oh, heavens! can anything more cruel be
invented; and
a heart treated in such a manner ?
What! I am justly incensed against her, I come to complain, and
I must bear the blame! She excites my grief and my suspicion
to the utmost. She wishes me to believe everything, she boasts
of everything; and yet my heart is cowardly enough not to
break the bonds that bind it, cowardly enough not to arm itself
with deserved contempt for the cruel one it, alas! loves too
much. [To Célimène. ] Ah! faithless woman, you well know
how to take advantage of my weakness, and to make the deep
yearning love I have for you serve your own ends.
Clear your.
self at least of a crime which overwhelms me with grief, and cease
to affect to be guilty towards me. Show me, if you can,
that
this letter is innocent; strive to appear faithful to me, and I
will strive to believe you.
was
ever


## p. 10171 (#599) ##########################################

MOLIÈRE
10171
Célimène — Believe me, you forget yourself in your jealous fits,
and you do not deserve all the love I feel for you. I should like
to know what could compel me to condescend to the baseness
of dissembling with you; and why, if my heart were engaged
to another, I should not frankly tell you so. What! does not
the kind assurance of my feelings toward you plead my defense
against all your suspicions? Have they any weight before such
a pledge? Do you not insult me when you give way to them ?
And since it requires so great an effort for us to speak our love;
since the honor of our sex, that enemy to love, so strictly forbids
such a confession, — should the lover who sees us for his sake
conquer such obstacles, think lightly of that testimony and go
unpunished? Is he not to blame if he does not trust what we
have confessed with so much reluctance ? Indeed, my indignation
should be the reward of such doubts, and you do not deserve
that I should care for you. I am very foolish, and am vexed at
my own folly for still retaining any good-will toward you. I
ought to place my affections elsewhere, and thus give you just
excuse for complaint.
Alceste — Ah, faithless woman! How wonderful is my weak-
ness for you! You deceive me, no doubt, with such endearing
words. But let it be: I must submit to my destiny; I give my-
self heart and soul to you.
I will to the end see
what your heart will prove to be, and if it can be cruel enough
to deceive me.
Célimène — No: you do not love me as you ought to love.
Alceste - Ah! nothing can be compared with my exceeding
great love; and in my anxiety to make the whole world a wit-
ness to it, I even go so far as to form wishes against you. Yes,
I could wish that no one thought you charming; that you were
reduced to a humbler lot; that Heaven, at your birth, had be-
stowed nothing upon you; that you had neither rank, high birth,
nor wealth: so that my heart, in offering itself, might make up
for the injustice of such a fate, and that I might have both the
happiness and the glory on that day of seeing you owe every-
thing to my love.
Translation of Charles Heron Wall.
I trust you.


## p. 10172 (#600) ##########################################

10172
MOLIÈRE
A SINCERE CRITIC SELDOM PLEASES
From "The Misanthrope )
[The scene is the house of Célimène (the heroine of the play) in Paris.
In the apartment are Alceste, known for his too-plain speech as “the misan-
thrope )); and the far more politic and compliant Philinte. Oronte enters to
them, eager for literary flattery from Alceste. The scene is from the first act
of the play. ]
O
RONTE [to Alceste] – I learnt just now that Eliante and Céli-
mène are gone out to make some purchases: but as I was
also told that you were here, I came up to say, in all
sincerity of heart, that I have conceived for you an incredible
esteem; and that for a long time this esteem has given me an
ardent desire to be numbered among your friends. Yes, I love
to render justice to true merit, and I long to be united to you
in the close bond of friendship. I think that a warm friend,
and one of my standing, is assuredly not to be despised. [During
this discourse of Oronte, Alceste is thoughtful, and does not set m
aware that he is spoken to, until Oronte says to him:] With your
leave, it is to you that I am speaking.
Alcesto To me, sir ?
Oronte — To you. Does it in any way wound your feelings?
Alceste -- Not in the least; but my surprise is great. I did
not expect this homage to be paid to me.
Oronte - The esteem I feel for you ought not to surprise you,
and you can claim it from the whole world.
Alceste — Sir –
Oronte — The whole kingdom contains no merit more dazzling
than that which is to be found in you.
Alceste — Sir -
Oronte — Yes. I consider you superior to the highest amongst
us.
Alceste - Sir —
Oronte — May Heaven strike me dead if I lie! And in order
to convince you of my feelings, allow me in this place to em-
brace you with all my heart, and to solicit a place in your affec-
tions. Come, your hand if you please. Will you promise me
your friendship?
Alceste - Sir -
Oronte What! you refuse me?


## p. 10173 (#601) ##########################################

MOLIÈRE
10173
Alceste Sir, it is too great an honor you wish to pay me;
but friendship requires a little more caution, and we surely pro-
fane its name when we lightly make use of it. Such a compact
ought to spring from judgment and choice, and before we bind
ourselves we ought to be better acquainted. Our dispositions
might differ so greatly as to make us both heartily repent of the
bargain.
Oronte — Upon my word, you speak like a sensible man, and
I esteem you all the more for it. Let us then leave the form-
ing of such pleasant ties to time; but meanwhile believe that I
am entirely at your service. If some overture is to be made for
you at court, every one knows that I am in favor with the King,
that I have his private ear, and that really he behaves in all
things most kindly to me. In short, believe that I am in every-
thing and at all times at your disposal. As you are a man of
great judgment, I come, by way of beginning this happy bond
of friendship, to read you a sonnet which I have lately com-
posed, and to ask you if I should do well to publish it.
Alceste - Sir, I am ill qualified to decide on such a matter;
pray excuse me.
Oronte - Why?
Alceste--I have the weakness of being a little too sincere
about those things.
Oronte — Sincerity is what I ask of you; and I should have
reason to complain, if when I come to you in order to hear the
plain truth, you frustrate my purpose by concealing anything
from me.
Alceste - If it is thus you look upon it, sir, I consent.
Oronte - Sonnet. It is a sonnet on Hope. It is to a lady
who had given some encouragement to my love. Hope. These
are not those long, pompous verses; but soft, tender, languishing
little lines.
[At every one of these interruptions he looks at
Alceste. ]
Alceste - We shall see.
Oronte — Hope. I do not know whether the style will seem
clear and easy to you, and whether you will be satisfied with my
choice of words.
Alceste — We shall see, sir.
Oronte -- Besides, you must know that I was only a quarter
of an hour composing it.


## p. 10174 (#602) ##########################################

MOLIÈRE
10174
Alceste — Come, sir, time has nothing to do with the matter.
Oronte [reads] -
Hope, it is true, can ease our pain
And rock awhile our hapless mind;
But, Phyllis, what a sorry gain
When nothing pleasant walks behind.
Philinte - I think this beginning charming!
Alceste [aside to Philinte] - What! you dare to find that charm-
ing?
Oronte
Your complaisance was great indeed,
But better 'twere to clip its scope,
And not to such expense proceed,
If you could give me — only hope.
Philinte -- Ah! in what charming terms those things are said !
Alceste [aside to Philinte]— Shame on you, you vile flatterer!
you praise that rubbish!
Oronte -
If age - long expectation's pest-
The ardor of my zeal must test,
To death at last l'll fly.
My purpose braves your every care;
Fair Phyllis, men will soon despair
When doomed to hope for aye.
Philinte — The fall is pretty, lovable, admirable.
Alceste [aside to Philinte]— Plague take your fall, wretched
sycophant! Deuce take you! I wish it had broken your neck.
Philinte I have never heard verses so skillfully turned.
Alceste [aside] - Zounds!
Oronte [to Philinte]- You are flattering me, and you think
perhaps —
Philinte - No indeed, I am not flattering you at all.
Alceste [aside]— Ha! what else are you doing, impostor ?
Oronte [to Alceste]— But you, you remember the agreement
we made, and I beg of you to speak to me in all sincerity.
Alceste — Sir, this is at all times a delicate matter, and we
always like people to praise us for our genius. But one day I
was saying to some one, whose name I will not mention, on see-
ing verses of his composition, that a gentleman should carefully


## p. 10175 (#603) ##########################################

MOLIÈRE
10175
guard against the hankering after authorship which is apt to seize
us; that he should check the great propensity we have of making
a display of such pastimes; and that by too great an eagerness
to show our productions we run the risk of making ourselves
ridiculous.
Oronte — Do you mean me to understand by this that I am
wrong in wishing-
Alceste —I do not say that. But I said to him that a life-
less composition is very wearisome to those who read it; that
such a weakness is sufficient to make a man the object of unkind
remarks; that although in other respects he may have the most
sterling qualities, we generally judge of men by their weakest
side.
Oronte — Do you find fault with my sonnet ?
Alceste - I do not say that. But to keep him from writing, I I
pointed out to him how in our days that thirst had spoilt many
a worthy man.
Oronte — Do I write badly, and do I resemble in any way -
Alceste — I do not say that. But in short, I said to him, What
pressing necessity is there for you to rhyme, and what the deuce
urges you to put your name in print ? If we can forgive the
publication of a wretched book, it is only to those unfortunate
men who scribble for a living. Believe me; resist the tempta-
tion, keep such effusions from public notice, and do not throw
away, however you may be tempted, the name of a man of sense
and a gentleman which you bear at court, to take from the
hands of a grasping printer, that of a ridiculous and wretched
author. This is what I tried to make him understand.
Oronte — And I think I understand you. But this is all very
well. May I know what in my sonnet can —
Alceste — Truly, you had better shut it up in your cabinet:
you have followed bad models, and your expressions are in no
way natural.
Pray what is — "And rock awhile our hapless
mind”? and Nothing pleasant walks behind ” ? also "And not
to such expense proceed, If you could give me only hope »? or
“Fair Phyllis, men will soon despair, When doomed to hope for
aye”? This figurative style that people are so vain of, falls far
short of good taste and truth. It is a paltry play on words, and
mere affectation. Nature never speaks thus. I hate the wretched
taste of the age in these matters. Our forefathers, unpolished as
(


## p. 10176 (#604) ##########################################

10176
MOLIÈRE
they were, understood these things better; and I value less all
that is now admired than an old song which I will repeat to
you:
« If the King had given me
Paris town, so great and gay,
And for it I had to flee
From my lady-love away,
To King Henry I should say,
Take your Paris back, I pray:
I had liefer love my love, O,
I had liefer love my love. "
The versification is not rich, and the style is old. But do you
not see how much better it is than all that trumpery which good
sense must abhor, and that here simple nature speaks ? —
« If the King had given me
Paris town, so great and gay,
And for it I had to flee
From my lady-love away,
To King Henry I should say,
Take your Paris back, I pray:
I had liefer love my love, O,
I had liefer love my love. "
This is what a heart truly in love would say. —[To Philinte, who
laughs. ] Yes, you may laugh as much as you please; but what-
ever you men of wit may say, I prefer this to the showy glitter
of those false trinkets which every one admires.
Oronte — And yet I maintain that my verses are good.
Alceste — You have your own reasons for thinking them so;
but you will allow me to be of a different opinion, and my rea-
sons to be independent of yours.
Oronte — I think it sufficient that others prize them.
Alceste — No doubt they have the gift of dissimulation, which
I have not.
Oronte — Do you really think that you have such a large
share of intelligence ?
Alceste - If I praised your verses, I should have more.
Oronte -- I can easily do without your approbation.
Alceste – You must certainly, if you please, do without it.
Oronte I should like to see how you would set about com.
posing some on the same subject.


## p. 10177 (#605) ##########################################

MOLIÈRE
10177
Alceste - I might have the misfortune of making some as bad
as yours, but I should take great care not to show them to any
one.
Oronte - You speak to me very haughtily, and this conceit -
Alceste Pray find others to flatter you, and do not ask me to
do so.
Oronte - But, my little sir, lower somewhat your lofty tone, if
you please.
Alceste --I shall certainly, my big sir, do as I choose.
Philinte (stepping between them] - Nay, gentlemen, this is
carrying the matter too far. I beg of you to cease.
Oronte - Ah! I am wrong, I acknowledge it, and I leave the
I am, sir, in all sincerity, your humble servant.
Alceste — And I, sir, your most obedient.
,
field to you.
>
[Oronte goes out. ]
Philinte -- There! you see that with your love of sincerity,
you have drawn a troublesome affair upon yourself. It was clear
to me that Oronte, in order to be flattered-
Alceste — Do not speak to me.
Philinte — But-
Alceste — No more society for me.
Philinte — It is too much -
Alceste - Leave me alone.
Philinte - If I-
Alceste - Not another word.
Philinte – But how-
Alceste - I will hear no more.
Philinte – But yet —
Alceste - Again? what, again?
Philinte You insult
Alceste - 'Sdeath! this is too much. Do not follow me.
Philinte — You are joking; I shall not leave you. [Exeunt.
-
Translated by Charles Heron Wall.
XVII–637


## p. 10178 (#606) ##########################################

10178
MOLIÈRE
ORGON PROPOSES MARIANNE'S MARRIAGE WITH TARTUFFE
From (Tartuffe )
Enter to Orgon, in the drawing-room of his house, his young daughter
Marianne
O
RGON
Marianne!
Marianne --Father!
Orgon — Come here: I have something to say to you pri-
vately.
Marianne [to Orgon, who peers into a little side-room] - What
are you looking for?
Orgon — I want to see if there is any one there who could
overhear us: this is a most likely place for such a purpose. Now
we are all right. Marianne, I have always found you of a sweet
disposition, and you have always been very dear to me.
Marianne - I thank you very much for this fatherly love.
Orgon -- Rightly spoken, my daughter; and to deserve it, you
should think of nothing but of pleasing me.
Marianne I have no dearer wish at heart.
Orgon — Very well: then tell me, what do you say of our
guest, Tartuffe ?
Marianne - Who, I?
Orgon — You.
Be careful how you answer.
Marianne - Alas! I will say anything you please of him.
Dorine, the maid, comes in softly, and stands behind Orgon without being
noticed by him
Orgon – You speak wisely. Then say, daughter, that he pos-
.
sesses the greatest merit; that he has touched your heart; and
that it would be happiness to you to see him, with my approba-
tion, become your husband.
Marianne [drawing back with surprise] - Eh!
Orgon- What is the matter?
Marianne — What did you say?
?
Orgon — What?
Marianne - Did I make a mistake ?
Orgon - Make a mistake?
Marianne -— Who is it, father, that you would have me say has
touched my heart, and whom, with your approbation, it would be
happiness to have for a husband ?


## p. 10179 (#607) ##########################################

MOLIERE
10179
.
Orgon- Tartuffe.
Marianne - But I feel nothing of the kind, I assure you,
father. Why would you have me tell such a falsehood ?
Orgon - But I wish it to be the truth; and it is sufficient for
you that I have decided it should be so.
Marianne — What! you wish me, father -
Orgon — Yes, daughter, I intend to unite Tartuffe to my family
by marrying him to you. I am resolved that he shall be your
husband; and as I can [Seeing Dorine. ]— What are you doing
here? Your curiosity must be very strong, young damsel, for you
to come and listen to us after that fashion.
Dorine — Really, sir, I don't know whether the report arose
from conjecture or by chance; but I have just been told of this
match, and I treated the whole story as a sorry joke.
Orgon - Why! is the thing so incredible ?
Dorine — So incredible, sir, that I do not believe it, even when
I hear you speak of it.
Orgon — I shall find the means of making you believe it, you
may be sure.
Dorine — Pooh! pooh! you are telling us a fine story indeed!
Orgon - I am telling you what will very soon prove true.
Dorine - Nonsense!
Orgon [to Marianne - I assure you, daughter, that I am not
jesting
Dorine [to Marianne] - Ah! ah! Don't you go and believe
—
your father: he is only laughing.
Orgon [to Dorine] - I tell you —
Dorine - It'll all be lost time: nobody will believe you.
Orgon - My anger at last -
–
Dorine — Very well! very well! We believe you, and so much
the worse for you. What! is it possible, sir, that with your wise
looks, and that large beard in the very midst of your face, you
should be foolish enough to wish -
Orgon — Now listen. You have of late taken certain liberties
here which do not please me at all. Do you hear ?
Dorine — Let us speak calmly, sir, I beseech you.
laughing at us with this scheme? Your daughter will never do
for a bigot: she has something else to think about. And then,
what does such an alliance bring to you? Why should you, with
all your wealth, go and choose a beggar for your son-in-law ?
Orgon -- Hold your tongue! If he has no money, remember
that that is the very reason why we should esteem him. His:
Are you


## p. 10180 (#608) ##########################################

10180
MOLIÈRE
poverty is a noble poverty, and one which ought to place him
above all greatness; for he lost his fortune through the little
care he had for the things of this world, and through his anxiety
for the next. However, with my help, he will have the means
of settling his affairs and of recovering his own. For poor as he
is, he is a gentleman; and the estate which he has a right to is
considerable.
Dorine — Yes; at least he says so.
But this vanity, sir, does
not agree well with piety. Whoever gives himself to the priva-
tions of a holy life should not make such a boast of title and
lineage: the humble ways of piety suffer from the publicity of
such ambition. Why such pride ? — But what I say vexes you.
Let us leave his nobility aside and speak of his person. Would
you really, without sorrow, give a girl like your daughter to
a man of his stamp? And ought you not to think a little of
propriety, and prevent the consequences of such a union? You
ought to know that you endanger a woman's virtue when you
marry her against her will or taste. Her living virtuously in
the bonds of matrimony depends much on the husband who is
given to her; and those who are everywhere pointed at, have
often made their wives what they are. It is, in fact, very diffi-
cult to remain faithful to husbands of a certain kind; and who-
ever gives his daughter to a man she hates is responsible to
Heaven for all the sins she commits. Think to what danger you
are exposed by such a scheme.
Orgon [to no one] - I see that I shall have to learn from her
what to do!
Dorine — It would be all the better for you if you followed
my advice.
you want.
Orgon [to Marianne) — Daughter, let us no longer waste our
time with such nonsense: I am your father, and I know what
I had promised you to Valère; but from what I am
told, not only is he rather given to gambling, but I also suspect
him of being a free-thinker. I never see him come to church.
Dorine — Would you have him run there at your fixed hours,
like those who go there only to be seen ?
Orgon [to Dorine]—I don't ask your opinion in the matter.
[To Marianne. ] In short, Tartuffe is on the best terms with
Heaven, and this is a treasure to which nothing else can be com-
pared. You will find all your wishes satisfied by such a union:
it will prove a continual source of delight and pleasure. You
will live together in your faithful love like two young children-


## p. 10181 (#609) ##########################################

MOLIÈRE
1018
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like two turtle doves. Never will any unhappy discussion arise
between you, and you will make anything you like of him.
Dorine — She will make naught but a fool of him, I know.
Orgon-Gracious me, what language!
Dorine — I tell you that he has the look of one, and that
his destiny will overrule, sir, all the virtue your daughter may
have.
Orgon - Leave off interrupting me. Mind you keep silent,
and not poke your word in where you have no business.
Dorine [interrupting him each time he turns round to speak to
his daughter] - What I say is only for your own good, sir.
Orgon – You take too much upon you.