The Miser

Phil Porter, Sean Foley, Phil Porter, Sean Foley

• Publisher: Oberon Books
• Year: 2017
• Print ISBN: 9781786820273
• eBook ISBN: 9781786820280
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: European Drama
• Index: Literature

Fanatical about protecting his wealth, the paranoid Harpagon ( Griff Rhys Jones ) suspects all of trying to filch his fortune, and will go to any length to protect it. A matchmaker motivated only by money, he sets his sights on wealthy spouses for his children, so his riches are safe from their grubby hands. As true feelings and identities are revealed will Harpagon allow his children to follow their heart, or will his love of gold prove all-consuming? Passion and purse strings go head to head in this rip roaring comedy, by France's greatest dramatist.

ACT FIVE

Inside the house. It is decked out for the wedding party. DAME CLAUDE is finishing putting up a line of old bunting that reads: ‘Welcome M. Harpagon and your bride Beatrice’.

HARPAGON: (To DAME CLAUDE.) Change that to Mariane will you?

OFFICER: Leave this to me, sir. This is not the first burglary I’ve been called to – far from it. If I had a gold coin for every man I’ve had hanged, I’d have one gold coin. Now, how much did you say was in this chest?

HARPAGON: Ten thousand. Cash.

OFFICER: Quite a bit then, a serious crime?

HARPAGON: Yes, a serious crime! I tell you, hanging’s too good for the kind of rogue that would do this to a man. Find the culprit and torture him.

OFFICER: Torture?

HARPAGON: Torture him! Chop his thieving fingers off and serve them to him in an omelette! Without a side salad!

OFFICER: And is there anyone you suspect of perpetrating the theft? Anyone been sniffing about, that kind of caper?

HARPAGON: Everyone! Arrest everyone! Everyone here and everyone out there and torture them all until we have our thief! And if that doesn’t work then torture yourself!

OFFICER: I appreciate your desire to bring this matter to a head, sir. But experience tells me we shall be best served by a more careful approach. Slow and steady wins the race.

MAITRE JACQUES enters at speed, calling offstage.

MAITRE JACQUES: Don’t let him go! Slit his throat! Grill his feet! Plunge him into boiling water then hang him from the ceiling!

HARPAGON: Who, the thief?

MAITRE JACQUES: No, the suckling pig we’re having for dinner. I’m really going to town on this one!

HARPAGON: Maitre Jacques, this gentleman would like to ask you a few questions.

MAITRE JACQUES: Go ahead, but I never reveal my culinary secrets!

HARPAGON: Not about the food, about my money, you juggins! It’s gone!

MAITRE JACQUES: Lost some money, have you, sir?

HARPAGON: No, I didn’t lose it! It’s been snitched! (Grabs MAITRE JACQUES by lapels.) And someone is going to pay!

OFFICER: All right, sir, go easy. There’s a way of dealing with people like this. He seems decent enough. No need for prison for his sort…

HARPAGON lets MAITRE JACQUES go. OFFICER suddenly grabs MAITRE JACQUES, slams his head on the harpsichord and holds his arm behind his back.

OFFICER: Because he’s going to confess now! That’s it, my lad, spill the beans, and I’m not talking haricots verts! You might even get a little reward from your ever-loving master here!

HARPAGON: He won’t, but carry on.

OFFICER: Go on. Sing like a tweety bird.

MAITRE JACQUES: (Aside.) Here’s my chance! I knew it would come! I’ll get my own back on Valere and ruin him in the eyes of my master! What that man did to my baguette…!

HARPAGON: (Twists ear.) Is this an aside? If so, it’s going on far too long.

OFFICER: Steady, sir. You have no authority to administer physical punishment. I, on the other hand…

OFFICER slams sash window down on MAITRE JACQUES’ hands.

MAITRE JACQUES: All right, all right, I’ll tell you who done it! Just let me go and I’ll tell you!

OFFICER lets go.

OFFICER: Tweet tweet.

MAITRE JACQUES: The thief that you seek is indeed of your own household, Monsieur Harpagon, sir. It is none other than your butler, Valere!

HARPAGON: Valere?

MAITRE JACQUES: Valere!

OFFICER: Valere.

MAITRE JACQUES: Valere!

DAME CLAUDE: Valere!

MAITRE JACQUES: Valere!

HARPAGON: Valere?!

MAITRE JACQUES: Valere, yes, Valere! Are you deaf as well as tight? I’m certain of it.

HARPAGON: Why?

MAITRE JACQUES: Well, stands to reason.

HARPAGON: Whose?

MAITRE JACQUES: Mine!

OFFICER: We shall need a little more to go on. Evidence. Details.

HARPAGON: Did you see him lurking where I’d hidden my money?

MAITRE JACQUES: That’s right. Where was it again?

HARPAGON: In the greenhouse, under the tomatoes.

MAITRE JACQUES: Exactly! I saw him lurking in the greenhouse under the tomato plants, holding… What was your money in?

HARPAGON: A strongbox.

MAITRE JACQUES: As I thought! I saw him lurking in the greenhouse with a strongbox!

OFFICER: Describe it.

MAITRE JACQUES: It’s about twelve foot by twelve, low brick wall, with panes of glass.

HARPAGON: Not the greenhouse, the strongbox, fool!

MAITRE JACQUES: Oh, er, well, it was… big?

HARPAGON: Mine was small.

MAITRE JACQUES: That’s what I mean, it was big for a small strongbox. Or small for a big one, ’pends how you look at it. The contents were certainly big.

HARPAGON: What colour was it?

MAITRE JACQUES: Colour?

OFFICER: You heard him!

MAITRE JACQUES: Magenta! No, that’s ridiculous. Was it a warm colour? Starting with the letter…

HARPAGON: It was grey.

MAITRE JACQUES: G! For grey! A small grey strongbox in the greenhouse under the red tomatoes! With the lead piping!

HARPAGON: It’s mine all right! Clear as day! An open and shut case! Take his statement.

OFFICER: Very good, sir.

HARPAGON: Oh, why did I ever trust that Valere?

Enter VALERE.

VALERE: Ah, sir, there you are! I wish to speak with you about your daughter.

MAITRE JACQUES: Here’s the disgraced charlat...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Contents
• Molière and His Comedy
• Cast
• Creative Team
• Act One
• Act Two
• Act Three
• Act Four
• Act Five
• By the same Authors