GER. What can it be? Worse than what his son has done! I am sure I don't know what anyone can do more wrong than that; and to marry without the consent of one's father is the worst thing that I can possibly imagine. {Footnote: No exaggeration, if we consider that this was said two hundred years ago, and by a French father.} SCENE III--GÉRONTE, LÉANDRE. GER. Ah, here you are! LEA. (_going quickly towards his father to embrace him_). Ah! father, how glad I am to see you! GER. (_refusing to embrace him_). Stay, I have to speak to you first. LEA. Allow me to embrace you, and.... GER. (_refusing him again_). Gently, I tell you. LEA. How! father, you deprive me of the pleasure of showing you my joy at your return? GER. Certainly; we have something to settle first of all. LEA. But what? GER. Just stand there before me, and let me look at you. LEA. What for? GER. Look me straight in the face. LEA. Well? GER. Will you tell me what has taken place here in my absence? LEA. What has taken place? GER. Yes; what did you do while I was away? LEA. What would you have me do, father? GER. It is not I who wanted you to do anything, but who ask you now what it is you did? LEA. I have done nothing to give you reason to complain. GER. Nothing at all? LEA. No. GER. You speak in a very decided tone. LEA. It is because I am innocent. GER. And yet Scapin has told me all about you. LEA. Scapin! GER. Oh! oh! that name makes you change colour. LEA. He has told you something about me? GER. He has. But this is not the place to talk about the business, and we must go elsewhere to see to it. Go home at once; I will be there presently. Ah! scoundrel, if you mean to bring dishonour upon me, I will renounce you for my son, and you will have to avoid my presence for ever! SCENE IV.--LÉANDRE (_alone_). LEA. To betray me after that fashion! A rascal who for so many reasons should be the first to keep secret what I trust him with! To go and tell everything to my father! Ah! I swear by all that is dear to me not to let such villainy go unpunished. SCENE V.--OCTAVE, LÉANDRE, SCAPIN. OCT. My dear Scapin, what do I not owe to you? What a wonderful man you are, and how kind of Heaven to send you to my help! LEA. Ah, ah! here you are, you rascal! SCA. Sir, your servant; you do me too much honour. LEA. (_drawing his sword_). You are setting me at defiance, I believe...Ah! I will teach you how.... SCA. (_falling on his knees_). Sir! OCT. (_stepping between them_). Ah! Léandre. LEA. No, Octave, do not keep me back. SCA. (_to_ LÉANDRE). Eh! Sir. OCT. (_keeping back_ LÉANDRE). For mercy's sake! LEA. (_trying to strike_). Leave me to wreak my anger upon him. OCT. In the name of our friendship, Léandre, do not strike him. SCA. What have I done to you, Sir? LEA. What you have done, you scoundrel! OCT. (_still keeping back_ LÉANDRE). Gently, gently.