Misanthrope - Oronte Flashcards
PHILINTE: I fear for you, Alceste, and for your suit! I hope-
That servant girl downstairs is cute!
She says Eliante has gone, with Celimene.
So I’m alone with you two brilliant men!
My dear Alceste, may I say from my heart:
You’ve always seemed to me - a work of art?
A man of magnitude! I say again:
You are the most magnificent of men!
Alceste, my total happiness depends
On our becoming - just the best of friends!
A friend like me: of elevated birth;
Is like none other you could have on earth!
(Alceste daydreams)
It’s you, Alceste, to whom I make this speech!
ALCESTE: To me?
To you. But do I - overreach?
ALCESTE: No, no! But sir… I’m just surprised to be so eloquently canonized.
It shouldn’t startle you! Why, I must say, that all the world assesses you this way!
ALCESTE: Oronte…
Why, all of France considers you as worthy of the greatest ballyhoo!
ALCESTE: Monsieur…
Ah, yes! And I, dear friend, esteem your celebrated virtues as - supreme!
ALCESTE: Oronte!
Let heaven strike me if I lie!
And now to prove my ardent love will I
Embrace you both. Prepare now to be kissed!
First you, Philinte!
(kiss Philinte)
Now Alceste, I insist!
It’s your turn, sir. I’m so proud you would choose me!
(lunge at Alceste)
ALCESTE: Monsieur!
Monsieur? Alceste, do you refuse me?
ALCESTE: I’m honored, sir, and don’t mean to be blistery
But I think friendship needs a little mystery! We make the name of “friend” grow obsolete
By using it for everyone we meet!
For friendship: Time’s the only true begetter: Let’s wait then ‘till we - know each other better!
A little time, and yes, a little space-
Our separate lane to run the human race.
Oh Lordy be, how smart! - I must say, Alceste
That now I find you better than the best!
I know in time that friendship shall ensue,
So, till that time, I give myself to you!
And let me be a help to you with things-
I am, you know, a good friend of the king’s.
I have his ear, you know, and you will too:
I’d love to lend some influence to you.
In short, I’m yours to taste and savor,
And since that’s so, I’d like to ask a favor!
Oh pretty please, with cream and sugar on it,
I’d like to read to you my newest sonnet!
I’d only have it published if you said…
ALCESTE: Oh no, Oronte, ask someone else instead!
Not me!
Why not?
ALCESTE: I criticize immodestly. I have this fault, you see, of speaking honestly.
Exactly what I want! I love the truth!
Mere flattery, Alceste, is so uncouth!
I want your sharpest criticism, sir!
ALCESTE: Well, go on if you wish, my dear monsieur.
“Sonnet!”
It’s a sonnet!
“Hope!”
‘bout this girl
Who sets my hopes and fantasies awhirl!
“Hope!”
Well, I’m afraid it’s nothing major, really.
Some simple lines, and versified quite - freely!
ALCESTE: Well, well, let’s see.
“Hope!”
I hope the style
Will not appear to you as infantile!
And for the words, they’re not so bad, I think…
ALCESTE: We’ll see, go on…
Oh what the heck they stink!
I wrote the whole dang thing in half an hour!
ALCESTE: Remarkable, Oronte, your staying power!
“Hope, it’s true, it keeps us going
And keeps sadness out of doors.
But Phyllis, like a river flowing,
Holds my joy between her shores.”
ALCESTE: How dare you praise this flagrant dilettante?
“You’ve seduced me, sweetest darling,
Filling my poor soul with Hope,
But leaving me alone and snarling:
I know! I’ll be a misanthrope!”
ALCESTE: Philinte! You donkey! It’s rank stupidity!
“If you want, I’ll wait forever!
I’ll follow you - welll - wheresoever!
Until I take my final breath!
O Phyllis, dearest: In despair
I trust my Hope unto your care,
And hope you’ll trust it unto death!”
ALCESTE: Oh, no!
Don’t flatter now; you can’t admire -
ALCESTE: Outrageous liar!
But you, Alceste, you haven’t spoken yet!
YOUR thoughts on my - poetical vignette?
ALCESTE: It’s delicate to speak of it, Oronte,
I’m glad, though, it’s not flattery you want.
…
Your poem’s a genuine embarrassment
It’s a loathsome: literary harassment.
(Pause)
To him, you said this! Are you telling me -
That my work’s - poor?
ALCESTE: Not necessarily. I said to him, though, that his reputation would be destroyed by sweeping condemnation
Of his bad verse; his trite, redundant lines,
His vapid thought, and immature designs.
That’s him! But me, my sonnet, is it - bad?
ALCESTE: I haven’t said! To him, though, I did add
“The itch to write’s abhorrent! It destroys all in its path: All happiness! All joys!”
So I write badly! Oh, I cannot bear it!
ALCESTE: I don’t say that!
But, if the shoe fits - wear it!
…
That “now’s the time to rush you into print!’
You’ll just appear ridiculous!” …I said!
To him, to him! But talk of me instead!
My sonnet, “Hope!” What do you think of IT?
ALCESTE: What do I think, Oronte? I think it’s sh…allow!
Unnatural, mere verbiage, corrupt!…
Now that is what a loving heart would say.
laugh
ALCESTE: Laugh on, Oronte; this merry roundelay Ranks far above your asinine invention,
Which seems, to me, mere insincere pretension.
Ah…hah! Well, I – I think my verse is good!
