The overture is played by a large group of instruments. The MUSIC MASTER’S PUPIL is seen at center stage, at a table, composing a tune that MONSIEUR JOURDAIN has commissioned for a serenade.
Scene 1. MUSIC MASTER, DANCING MASTER, three SINGERS, two VIOLINISTS, four DANCERS
MUSIC MASTER (to his musicians). Come on, come into this room and rest here until he comes.
DANCING MASTER (to his dancers). And you, too, on this side.
MUSIC MASTER (to the PUPIL). Is it done?
PUPIL. Yes.
MUSIC MASTER. Let’s see . . . That’s fine.
DANCING MASTER. Is it something new?
MUSIC MASTER. Yes, it’s an air for a serenade that I had him compose here while we’re waiting for our man to wake up.
DANCING MASTER. May I see what it is?
MUSIC MASTER. You’ll hear it, with the words, when he comes. He won’t be long.
DANCING MASTER. Ours are no small jobs now.
MUSIC MASTER. That’s true. We’ve found here just the man we both need. This Monsieur Jourdain is a nice income for us, with the visions of nobility and gallantry that he’s taken into his head; and your dance and my music might well wish that everyone was like him.
DANCING MASTER. Not entirely; and I wish he had more understanding than he does of the things we offer him.
MUSIC MASTER. It’s true that he understands them badly, but he pays for them well; and that’s what our arts need nowadays more than anything else.
DANCING MASTER. As for me, I confess, I get some enjoyment out of appreciation; I care about applause; and I maintain that in all the fine arts it’s a pretty painful torture to display ourselves to fools, to endure the barbarous reaction of a stupid man to our compositions. There is pleasure—don’t tell me there isn’t—in working for people who are capable of sensing the fine points of an art, who can offer a sweet reception to the beauties of a work, and, by gratifying approval, repay you for your labor. Yes, the most delightful reward you can receive for the things you do is to see them understood, to see them fêted by an applause that honors you. There is nothing, in my opinion, that pays us better than that for all our fatigues; and enlightened praises are exquisite delights.
MUSIC MASTER. I agree, and I relish them as you do. There is certainly nothing as gratifying as the applause you speak of. But that adulation does not keep you alive; praise by itself does not make a man well off; you have to mix in something solid; and the best way to praise is to praise with the open hand. Indeed, this is a man of scant understanding, who talks nonsense about everything and applauds only the wrong things; but his money corrects the judgments of his mind; there is discernment in his purse; he praises in cash; and this ignorant bourgeois is worth more to us, as you see, than the enlightened noble lord who brought us in here.
DANCING MASTER. There is something in what you say; but I think you put too much emphasis on money; and self-interest is such a base thing that an honorable man should never show any attachment for it.
MUSIC MASTER. All the same, you are perfectly willing to receive the money our man gives you.
DANCING MASTER. Certainly; but I don’t set all my happiness in it, and I wish that with all his money he also had a little taste.
MUSIC MASTER. I wish he did too, and that’s what we’re both working for as best we can. But in any case, he’s giving us a chance to make ourselves known in society; and on behalf of the others he will pay for what the others will praise for him.
DANCING MASTER. Here he comes.
Scene 2. MONSIEUR JOURDAIN, two LACKEYS, MUSIC MASTER, DANCING MASTER, VIOLINISTS, SINGERS, and DANCERS
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Well, gentlemen, what is it to be? Will you show me your little funny business?
DANCING MASTER. What? What little funny business?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Why, the . . . what you may call it, your prologue or dialogue of song and dance.
DANCING MASTER. Aha!
MUSIC MASTER. You find us all ready.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. I’ve kept you waiting a little, but that’s because today I’m having myself dressed like people of quality; and my tailor has sent me some silk stockings that I thought I’d never get on.
MUSIC MASTER. We are here only to await your leisure.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. I ask you both not to go away until they’ve brought me my coat, so you can see me in it.
DANCING MASTER. Whatever you please.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. You’ll see me decked out right from head to foot.
MUSIC MASTER. We’ve no doubt of it.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN (showing his dressing-gown). I’ve had this India print made up for me.
DANCING MASTER. It’s very handsome.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. My tailor told me that people of quality went around like this in the morning.
MUSIC MASTER. It’s most becoming to you.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Lackeys! Hey, my two lackeys!
FIRST LACKEY. What do you wish, sir?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Nothing. It was just to see if you hear me all right. (To the two MASTERS) What do you think of my liveries?
DANCING MASTER. They’re magnificent
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN (opening his dressing-gown and displaying his tight red velvet breeches and green velvet jacket). And here’s a little casual outfit to do my exercises in in the morning.
MUSIC MASTER. Very gallant.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Lackeys!
FIRST LACKEY. Sir?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. The other lackey!
SECOND LACKEY. Sir?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Hold my gown. (To the MASTERS) How do I look this way?
DANCING MASTER. Very good; couldn’t be better.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Let’s have a look at this thing of yours.
MUSIC MASTER. First I’d like you to hear an air he has just composed for the serenade you asked me for. He’s one of my pupils who has a remarkable talent for this kind of thing.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Yes; but you shouldn’t have had it done by a pupil, and you’re not too good to have done the job yourself.
MUSIC MASTER. You mustn’t let the word pupil mislead you, sir. Pupils of this kind know as much about it as the greatest masters, and this air is as beautiful as can be. Just listen.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Give me my gown so I’ll hear better . . . Wait. I think I’ll be better without a gown . . . No, give it back to me; that’ll be better.
SINGER.
I languish night and day; great is my woe
Since my enslavement to your cruelties;
If thus you treat someone who loves you so,
How, Iris, must you treat your enemies?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. That song seems a bit lugubrious to me. It puts a man to sleep, and I wish you could liven it up a bit here and there.
MUSIC MASTER. Sir, the music must be suited to the words.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. I learned a really pretty one some time ago. Wait . . . la, la . . . How does it go?
DANCING MASTER. My word, I don’t know!
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. There’s lamb in it.
DANCING MASTER. Lamb?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Yes. Ah! (Sings)
I thought my little Pam
Was sweet as she was fair,
I thought my little Pam
Was sweet as any lamb.
Alas! There’s nothing like her,
None crueler anywhere;
She’s worse than any tiger!
Isn’t that pretty?
MUSIC MASTER. Couldn’t be prettier.
DANCING MASTER. And you sing it well.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. That’s without having learned music.
MUSIC MASTER. You should learn it, sir, just as you are learning the dance. These are two closely related arts.
DANCING MASTER. And they open a man’s mind to beautiful things.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Do people of quality learn music too?
MUSIC MASTER. Yes, sir.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Then I’ll learn it. But I don’t know where I’ll find the time; for besides the fencing master who’s teaching me, I’ve also taken on a philosophy master, who’s due to begin this morning.
MUSIC MASTER. Philosophy is something; but music, sir, music . . .
DANCING MASTER. Music and the dance . . . Music and the dance, that’s all you need.
MUSIC MASTER. There’s nothing so useful in a state as music.
DANCING MASTER. There’s nothing so necessary to men as the dance.
MUSIC MASTER. Without music a state cannot subsist.
DANCING MASTER. Without the dance a man couldn’t do anything.
MUSIC MASTER. All the disorders, all the wars we see in the world come only from not learning music.
DANCING MASTER. All the misfortunes of men, all the deadly disasters that history is full of, the blunders of politicians, the mistakes of great captains—all these have come just from not knowing how to dance.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. How’s that?
MUSIC MASTER. Doesn’t war come from a lack of union among men?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. That’s true.
MUSIC MASTER. And if all men learned music, wouldn’t that be the way to achieve concord, and to see universal peace in the world?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. You’re right.
DANCING MASTER. When a man has committed a lapse in conduct, whether in his family affairs, or in the government of a state, or in the command of an army, don’t people always say: “So-and-so has made a misstep in such-and-such a matter”?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Yes, people say that.
DANCING MASTER. And making a misstep, can that come from anything but not knowing how to dance?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. That’s true; you’re both right.
DANCING MASTER. That’s to show you the excellence and utility of dancing and music.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. I understand that now.
MUSIC MASTER. Do you want to see our two things?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Yes.
MUSIC MASTER. I’ve told you already, this is a little essay I once composed on the various passions that music can express.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Very good.
MUSIC MASTER (to the SINGERS). Come on, step forward. (To MONSIEUR JOURDAIN) You must imagine that they’re dressed as shepherds.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Why always shepherds? That’s all you see everywhere.
DANCING MASTER. When you have people speak to music, for verisimilitude you have to go in for the pastoral. Singing has always been assigned to shepherds; and it’s hardly natural in dialogue for princes or bourgeois to sing their passions.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. All right, all right. Let’s see.
DIALOGUE IN MUSIC
between a WOMAN SINGER and two MEN SINGERS
WOMAN.
A heart that love holds in its sway
To countless cares must always be a prey;
They talk as though we sigh and languish pleasantly,
And yet, for all they say,
Nothing is quite so sweet as to be free.
FIRST MAN.
Nothing is quite so sweet as the tender passion
That lovingly can fashion
One single heart of two.
Without loving desires there is no happiness:
Take love from life and you’ll confess
You take away its pleasures too.
SECOND MAN.
It would be sweet to enter love’s domain
If, seeking faith in love, we did not seek in vain;
But alas! Cruel heartlessness!
One cannot find a faithful shepherdess,
And that inconstant sex, unworthy to be born,
Should make men give up love in utter scorn.
FIRST MAN.
Longing so sweet,
WOMAN.
Freedom and bliss,
SECOND MAN.
Sex full of deceit,
FIRST MAN.
What’s dearer than this?
WOMAN.
How you exalt me!
SECOND MAN.
How you revolt me!
FIRST MAN.
Ah! for the sake of love give up this hatefulness.
WOMAN.
You can be made to see
A faithful shepherdess.
SECOND MAN.
Alas! Where can she be?
WOMAN.
Since our sex is so maligned,
Here: I give my heart to you.
SECOND MAN.
Shepherdess, but shall I find
That it will be always true?
WOMAN.
Well, let’s try it out and see
Which of us is the truer lover.
SECOND MAN.
Whichever fails in constancy,
Over that one may the gods’ wrath hover!
ALL THREE SINGERS.
So fair is love’s dart,
Let’s yield to its heat;
Ah! loving is sweet
For the faithful in heart!
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Is that all?
MUSIC MASTER. Yes.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. I think it’s well worked out, and there are some rather pretty little remarks in it.
DANCING MASTER. Here, for my piece, is a little attempt to show the most beautiful movements and attitudes with which a dance can be varied.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Is it still shepherds?
DANCING MASTER. They’re whatever you like. (To the DANCERS) Let’s go.
Four DANCERS execute all the different movements and all the kinds of steps that the DANCING MASTER directs them to. This dance makes up the FIRST INTERLUDE.