Scene 1. MADAME JOURDAIN, MONSIEUR JOURDAIN
MADAME JOURDAIN. Oh! Lord have mercy! What in the world is all this? What a sight! Are you getting ready for a mummer’s play, and is it a time for a masquerade? Speak up; what is all this? Who rigged you out like this?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Look at your impertience, to talk that way to a Mamamouchi!
MADAME JOURDAIN. How’s that?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Yes, you’ve got to show me some respect now; and I’ve just been made a Mamamouchi.
MADAME JOURDAIN. What do you mean with your Mamamouchi?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Mamamouchi, I tell you. I’m a Mamamouchi.
MADAME JOURDAIN. What kind of animal is that?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Mamamouchi, that is to say, in our language, Paladin.
MADAME JOURDAIN. A balladin’! Are you at an age for going around a-ballading?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. What an ignoramus! I said a Paladin. That’s a dignity that’s just been conferred on me with proper ceremony.
MADAME JOURDAIN. What kind of a ceremony?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Mahameta per Giourdina.
MADAME JOURDAIN. What does that mean?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Giourdina, that is to say Jourdain.
MADAME JOURDAIN. Well, then, Jourdain? What about it?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Voler far un Paladina de Giourdina.
MADAME JOURDAIN. What?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Dar turbanta con galera.
MADAME JOURDAIN. What does that mean?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Per deffender Palestina.
MADAME JOURDAIN. What is it you mean by that?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Dara dara bastonara.
MADAME JOURDAIN. Just what is this jargon?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Non tener honta: questa star l’ultima affronta.
MADAME JOURDAIN. Just what is all this?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN (dancing and singing). Hou la ba ba la chou ba la ba ba la da.
MADAME JOURDAIN. Alas! Good Lord! My husband’s gone crazy.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN (on his way out). Peace, insolent woman! Show respect to Monsieur le Mamamouchi.
MADAME JOURDAIN. Why, where can he have lost his wits? Let’s run and keep him from leaving. (Sees DORANTE and DORIMÈNE entering.) Aha! Sure enough, this is all we needed. I see nothing but trouble on every side.
(Exit)
Scene 2. DORANTE, DORIMÈNE
DORANTE. Yes, Madame, you’ll see the most amusing thing you ever could see; and I don’t think it’s possible still to find in all the world a man as crazy as that one. And then, Madame, we must try to serve Cléonte’s love, and support his whole masquerade; he’s a very decent chap who deserves our taking an interest on his behalf.
DORIMÈNE. I think a lot of him, and he deserves to have good fortune.
DORANTE. Besides that, Madame, we have a ballet coming to us here, which we shouldn’t allow to be wasted; and I really must see whether my idea can work out.
DORIMÈNE. I saw some magnificent preparations there; and these are things, Dorante, that I can no longer put up with. Yes, I want to put a stop to your extravagance at last; and to cut short all the expenditures I see you making for me, I have resolved to marry you promptly. That’s the real solution; all these things end with marriage.
DORANTE. Ah, Madame! Is it possible that you could have made such a sweet resolve on my behalf?
DORIMÈNE. It’s only to keep you from ruining yourself; and without this I can easily see that in a short time you wouldn’t have a penny.
DORANTE. How obliged I am, Madame, to your concern for preserving my property. It is entirely yours, as well as my heart, and you will use it in any way you please.
DORIMÈNE. I shall have good use for them both. But here’s your man; he’s a wonderful sight.
Scene 3. MONSIEUR JOURDAIN, DORANTE, DORIMÈNE
DORANTE. Sir, Madame and I come to pay homage to your new dignity, and to rejoice with you at your daughter’s coming marriage to the son of the Grand Turk.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN (after making his bows in Turkish fashion). Sir, I wish you the strength of serpents and the prudence of lions.
DORIMÈNE. I was very glad to be one of the first, sir, to come and congratulate you on the high degree of glory you have risen to.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Madame, I hope your rosebush may be in flower all year long. I am infinitely obliged to you for taking part in the honors that are coming to me, and I take great joy in seeing you here again so I can offer you my very humble apologies for my wife’s outlandish behavior.
DORIMÈNE. That’s nothing; I can excuse such an impulse in her. Your heart must be precious to her, and it’s not strange that the possession of a man like you can give her some alarms.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. The possession of my heart is a thing that is entirely yours.
DORANTE. You see, Madame, that Monsieur Jourdain is not one of those people who are blinded by prosperity, and that in all his glory he still knows how to recognize his friends.
DORIMÈNE. That’s the mark of a wholly noble soul.
DORANTE. Now where is his Turkish Highness? As friends of yours, we would like to pay him our respects.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Here he comes, and I’ve sent for my daughter to give him her hand.
Scene 4. CLÉONTE, COVIELLE, MONSIEUR JOURDAIN, DORANTE, DORIMÈNE
DORANTE (to CLÉONTE). Sir, as friends of your honorable father-in-law, we come to make obeisance to Your Highness and respectfully assure Your Highness of our very humble services.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Where is the interpreter, to tell him who you are and make him understand what you’re saying? You’ll see that he’ll answer you, and he speaks Turkish wonderfully. Hello! Where the deuce has he gone? (To CLÉONTE) Strouf, strif, strof, straf. This gentleman is a grande Segnore, grande Segnore, grande Segnore; and Madame is a granda Dama, granda Dama, granda Dama. (Seeing that he is not understood) Oh dear! Him, sir, him French Mamamouchi, and Madame French Mamamouchie; I can’t say it more clearly. Good, here’s the interpreter. Where are you going, anyway? We can’t say a thing without you. Just tell him that the gentleman and the lady are persons of high rank, who have come to pay their respects to him, as my friends, and assure him of their services. (To DORANTE and DORIMÈNE) You’ll see how he’ll answer.
COVIELLE. Alabala crociam acci boram alabamen.
CLÉONTE. Catalequi tubal ourin soter amalouchan.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. You see?
COVIELLE. He says: “May the rain of prosperities forever water the garden of your family!”
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. I told you, he speaks Turkish.
DORANTE. That’s wonderful.
Scene 5. LUCILE, MONSIEUR JOURDAIN, DORANTE, DORIMÈNE, CLÉONTE, COVIELLE
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Come here, daughter; closer. Come and give your hand to this gentleman, who is doing you the honor of asking to marry you.
LUCILE. What’s this, father? What a get-up! Are you acting in a play?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. No, no, it’s no play. It’s a very serious matter, and the most honorable for you that could be wished for. Here’s the husband I am giving you.
LUCILE. Me, father?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Yes, you. Come on, give him your hand, and thank Heaven for your good fortune.
LUCILE. I don’t want to get married.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. I want you to, and I’m your father.
LUCILE. I’ll do nothing of the kind.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Oh! What a lot of fuss! Come on, I tell you. Here, your hand.
LUCILE. No, father, I’ve told you, there is no power that can oblige me to take any other husband than Cléonte; and I’ll go to any extremes rather than . . . (Recognizing CLÉONTE) It is true that you are my father. I owe you entire obedience, and it is for you to dispose of me according to your will.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Ah! I’m delighted to see you return to your duty so promptly, and I’m really pleased to have an obedient daughter.
Scene 6. MADAME JOURDAIN, MONSIEUR JOURDAIN, LUCILE, CLÉONTE, COVIELLE, DORANTE, DORIMÈNE
MADAME JOURDAIN. How’s this? What in the world is going on? They say you want to give your daughter in marriage to a Mardi Gras reveler.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Will you be quiet, you impertinent woman? You’re always coming thrusting your silly notions into everything, and there’s no way of teaching you to be reasonable.
MADAME JOURDAIN. You’re the one there’s no way of getting any sense into, and you go from folly to folly. What is your intention, and what do you mean to do with this motley crew?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. I mean to marry our daughter to the son of the Grand Turk.
MADAME JOURDAIN. To the son of the Grand Turk!
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Yes, have the interpreter here pay him your compliments.
MADAME JOURDAIN. I have no use for the interpreter, and I’ll tell him perfectly well myself to his face that he shan’t have my daughter.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Once more, will you be quiet?
DORANTE. What, Madame Jourdain, you oppose such good fortune as this? You refuse his Turkish Highness as a son-in-law?
MADAME JOURDAIN. Good Lord, sir, mind your own business.
DORIMÈNE. It’s a great honor, which is not one to reject.
MADAME JOURDAIN. Madame, I beg you too not to bother yourself with what doesn’t concern you.
DORANTE. It’s our friendly feeling for you that makes us take an interest in whatever is to your advantage.
MADAME JOURDAIN. I’ll get along fine without your friendly feeling.
DORANTE. Your daughter here consents to her father’s will.
MADAME JOURDAIN. My daughter consents to marry a Turk!
DORANTE. Yes indeed.
MADAME JOURDAIN. She can forget Cléonte!
DORANTE. What won’t a person do to be a great lady?
MADAME JOURDAIN. I’d strangle her with my own hands if she’d done a thing like that.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. That’s a lot of cackle. I tell you this marriage shall take place.
MADAME JOURDAIN. And I tell you that it shall not.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Oh, what a lot of fuss!
LUCILE. Mother.
MADAME JOURDAIN. Go on with you, you’re a bad girl.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. What? You’re scolding her because she obeys me?
MADAME JOURDAIN. Yes: she belongs to me as well as to you.
COVIELLE (to MADAME JOURDAIN). Madame.
MADAME JOURDAIN. You, what are you trying to tell me?
COVIELLE. One word!
MADAME JOURDAIN. I don’t want any part of your “word.”
COVIELLE (to MONSIEUR JOURDAIN). Sir, if she will listen to a word in private, I promise you to get her to consent to what you want.
MADAME JOURDAIN. I won’t consent to it one bit.
COVIELLE. Just listen to me.
MADAME JOURDAIN. No.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Listen to him.
MADAME JOURDAIN. No, I won’t listen.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. He’ll tell you . . .
MADAME JOURDAIN. I don’t want him to tell me anything.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. There’s an obstinate woman for you! Will it hurt you to hear him?
COVIELLE. Just listen to me; afterward you’ll do as you please.
MADAME JOURDAIN. Well! What?
COVIELLE (aside to MADAME JOURDAIN). Madame, we’ve been trying to make signs to you for an hour. Don’t you see that all this is being done just to fall in with your husband’s visions, that we’re fooling him in this disguise, and that it’s Cléonte himself who’s the son of the Grand Turk?
MADAME JOURDAIN (aside to COVIELLE). Aha!
COVIELLE (aside to MADAME JOURDAIN). And I, Covielle, am the interpreter?
MADAME JOURDAIN (aside to COVIELLE). Ah! In that case, I give in.
COVIELLE (aside to MADAME JOURDAIN). Don’t let on to a thing!
MADAME JOURDAIN (to MONSIEUR JOURDAIN). Yes, that’s settled. I consent to the marriage.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. Ah! Now everybody’s reasonable. You wouldn’t listen to him. I knew perfectly well that he’d explain what it is to be the son of the Grand Turk.
MADAME JOURDAIN. He explained it to me very well, and I’m satisfied. Let’s send for a notary.
DORANTE. That’s very well said. And, Madame Jourdain, so that your mind may be completely at ease, and that you may lose today any jealousy you might have conceived about your honorable husband, let me say that this lady and I will use the same notary to be married.
MADAME JOURDAIN. I consent to that too.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN (aside to DORANTE). That’s to pull the wool over her eyes.
DORANTE (aside to MONSIEUR JOURDAIN). We simply have to delude her with this pretense.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. (Aside) Fine, fine. (Aloud) Have the notary sent for, quick.
DORANTE. While he’s coming and drawing up the contracts, let’s see our ballet and offer it as an entertainment to his Turkish Highness.
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. That’s a very good idea. Let’s go take our seats.
MADAME JOURDAIN. What about Nicole?
MONSIEUR JOURDAIN. I give her to the interpreter; and my wife to anyone that wants her.
COVIELLE. Sir, I thank you. (Aside) If you can find anyone crazier, I’ll go publish it in Rome.
The play concludes with the short Ballet of the Nations, which has nothing to do with the rest of the play and is omitted from this version.