GOUNOD

THE DOCTOR IN SPITE OF HIMSELF

Sganarelle, a forest scavenger, and his wife Martine are having a typical little family discussion:

SGANARELLE:

Stop! Bicker, badger,

You gain nothing by it.

Here I’m the master;

I want some quiet!

MARTINE:

And I repeat, sir, I am not your slave;

I shall hassle till you behave.

SGANARELLE:

Such a wife

Would drive a saint to the bottle.

Wise Aristotle put it well

When he said married life

Was like a living hell.

MARTINE:

Go along with your Latin

And your Aristotle!

SGANARELLE:

My profound erudition

Know-nothings find unnerving.

In the woods, look around

And where else can you find

A scavenger as sound

On the nature of the mind?

Who can boast on the side

Of seven years of serving

A doctor known nation-wide

For command of the art?

Who else could conjugate

In Latin at the age of eight? . . .

The two come to blows. Martine plots her revenge:

No light tap am I forecasting;

Give me vengeance deep and lasting.

Husband dear, bear in mind

When with me you collide,

You will find no cringing martyr,

But a Tartar, a Tartar inside . . .

No faint heart, no idle bluffer,

For these blows I’ll see you suffer.

Sganarelle finds consolation in his little jug:

When the marriage comes to grief,

Man and wife in daily deadlock,

Here is comfort and relief

From the strife and strain of wedlock.

Learn to laugh and give a shrug;

Love is after all humbug.

Little jug, little jug

Soothe me with your soft gentle voice.

Say again, little jug,

Glug glug glug glug . . .

From these petty squabbles it is a relief to turn to genuine romance, as Leander serenades his lady from outside her window:

While we linger for love to ripen,

We but squander brief youth away.

Spring is ever time to savor

Playful colors in life’s mixed bouquet.

Comes December with cold reminder

Of shy and tender buds that bloomed in May . . .

Sensible, down to earth Jacqueline reflects on the plight of a dutiful daughter at the beck and call of an avaricious father whose will is absolute:

Take the example of farmer Jake

Who gave to Jack his daughter’s hand,

Ready to cause her heart to break

To gain a paltry piece of land.

To greed the girl became a martyr;

Her father’s wish was her command,

Her heart a mere item for barter.

To wed for love, so I’ve been taught,

Not only is sweeter but wiser,

For bags of gold add up to naught

When held in the hands of a miser . . .