The School for Husbands HTML version

Yes, death seems to me a hundred times less dreadful than this fatal marriage into which I
am forced; all that I am doing to escape its horrors should excuse me in the eyes of those
who blame me. Time presses; it is night; now, then, let me fearlessly entrust my fate to a
lover's fidelity.
SGAN. (Speaking to those inside the house). Here I am once more; to-morrow they are
going, in my name...
ISA. O Heaven!
SGAN. Is it you, darling? Where are you going so late? You said when I left you that,
being rather tired, you would shut yourself up in your room; you even begged that on my
return I would let you be quiet till to-morrow morning....
ISA. It is true; but...
SGAN. But what?
ISA. You see I am confused; I do not know how to tell you the reason.
SGAN. Why, whatever can it be?
ISA. A wonderful secret! It is my sister who now compels me to go out, and who, for a
purpose for which I have greatly blamed her, has borrowed my room, in which I have
shut her up.
SGAN. What?
ISA. Could it be believed? She is in love with that suitor whom we have discarded.
SGAN. With Valère?
ISA. Desperately! Her passion is so great that I can compare it with nothing; you may
judge of its violence by her coming here alone, at this hour, to confide to me her love,
and to tell me positively that she will die if she does not obtain the object of her desire;
that, for more than a year, a secret intercourse has kept up the ardour of their love; and
that they had even pledged themselves to marry each other when their passion was new.
SGAN. Oh, the wretched girl!