TARTUFFE
Will she come soon?
DORINE
I think I hear her now.
Yes, here she is herself; I'll leave you with her.
Scene III
ELMIRE, TARTUFFE
TARTUFFE
May Heaven's overflowing kindness ever
Give you good health of body and of soul,
And bless your days according to the wishes
And prayers of its most humble votary!
ELMIRE
I'm very grateful for your pious wishes.
But let's sit down, so we may talk at ease.
Tartuffe, after sitting down
And how are you recovered from your illness?
Elmire, sitting down also
Quite well; the fever soon let go its hold.
TARTUFFE
My prayers, I fear, have not sufficient merit
To have drawn down this favour from on high;
But each entreaty that I made to Heaven
Had for its object your recovery.
ELMIRE
You're too solicitous on my behalf.
TARTUFFE
We could not cherish your dear health too much;
I would have given mine, to help restore it.
ELMIRE
That's pushing Christian charity too far;
I owe you many thanks for so much kindness.
TARTUFFE
I do far less for you than you deserve.
ELMIRE
There is a matter that I wished to speak of
In private; I am glad there's no one here
To listen.
TARTUFFE
Madam, I am overjoyed.
'T is sweet to find myself alone with you.
This is an opportunity I've asked
Of Heaven, many a time; till now, in vain.
ELMIRE
All that I wish, is just a word from you,
Quite frank and open, hiding nothing from me.
(Damis, without their seeing him, opens the closet door half way.)
TARTUFFE
I too could wish, as Heaven's especial favour,
To lay my soul quite open to your eyes,
And swear to you, the trouble that I made
About those visits which your charms attract,
Does not result from any hatred toward you,
But rather from a passionate devotion,
And purest motives…
ELIMIRE
That is how I take it,
I think 'T is my salvation that concerns you.
TARTUFFE, pressing her finger tips
Madam, 'T is so; and such is my devotion…
ELMIRE
Ouch! but you squeeze too hard.
TARTUFFE
Excess of zeal.
In no way could I ever mean to hurt you,
And I'd as soon…
(He puts his hand on her knee.)
ELMIRE
What's your hand doing there?
TARTUFFE
Feeling your gown; the stuff is very soft.
ELMIRE
Let be, I beg you; I am very ticklish.
(She moves her chair away, and Tartuffe brings his nearer.)
TARTUFFE, handling the lace yoke of Elmire's dress
Dear me, how wonderful in workmanship
This lace is! They do marvels, nowadays;
Things of all kinds were never better made.
ELMIRE
Yes, very true. But let us come to business.
They say my husband means to break his word,
And marry Mariane to you. Is 't so?
TARTUFFE
He did hint some such thing; but truly, madam,
That's not the happiness I'm yearning after;
I see elsewhere the sweet compelling charms
Of such a joy as fills my every wish.
ELMIRE
You mean you cannot love terrestrial things.
TARTUFFE
The heart within my bosom is not stone.
ELMIRE
I well believe your sighs all tend to Heaven,
And nothing here below can stay your thoughts.
TARTUFFE
Love for the beauty of eternal things
Cannot destroy our love for earthly beauty;
Our mortal senses well may be entranced
By perfect works that Heaven has fashioned here.
Its charms reflected shine in such as you,
And in yourself, its rarest miracles;
It has displayed such marvels in your face,
That eyes are dazed, and hearts are rapt away;
I could not look on you, the perfect creature,
Without admiring Nature's great Creator,
And feeling all my heart inflamed with love
For you, His fairest image of Himself.
At first I trembled lest this secret love
Might be the Evil Spirit's artful snare;
I even schooled my heart to flee your beauty,
Thinking it was a bar to my salvation.
But soon, enlightened, O all lovely one,
I saw how this my passion may be blameless,
How I may make it fit with modesty,
And thus completely yield my heart to it.
'T is, I must own, a great presumption in me
To dare make you the offer of my heart;
My love hopes all things from your perfect goodness,
And nothing from my own poor weak endeavour.
You are my hope, my stay, my peace of heart;
On you depends my torment or my bliss;
And by your doom of judgment, I shall be
Blest, if you will; or damned, by your decree.
ELMIRE
Your declaration's turned most gallantly;
But truly, it is just a bit surprising.
You should have better armed your heart, methinks,
And taken thought somewhat on such a matter.
A pious man like you, known everywhere…
TARTUFFE
Though pious, I am none the less a man;
And when a man beholds your heavenly charms,
The heart surrenders, and can think no more.
I know such words seem strange, coming from me;
But, madam, I'm no angel, after all;
If you condemn my frankly made avowal
You only have your charming self to blame.
Soon as I saw your more than human beauty,
You were thenceforth the sovereign of my soul;
Sweetness ineffable was in your eyes,
That took by storm my still resisting heart,
And conquered everything, fasts, prayers, and tears,
And turned my worship wholly to yourself.
My looks, my sighs, have spoke a thousand times;
Now, to express it all, my voice must speak.
If but you will look down with gracious favour
Upon the sorrows of your worthless slave,
If in your goodness you will give me comfort
And condescend unto my nothingness,
I'll ever pay you, sweet miracle,
An unexampled worship and devotion.
Then too, with me your honour runs no risk;
With me you need not fear a public scandal.
These court gallants, that women are so fond of,
Are boastful of their acts, and vain in speech;
They always brag in public of their progress;
Soon as a favour's granted, they'll divulge it;
Their tattling tongues, if you but trust to them,
Will foul the altar where their hearts have worshipped.
But men like me are so discreet in love,
That you may trust their lasting secrecy.
The care we take to guard our own good name
May fully guarantee the one we love;
So you may find, with hearts like ours sincere,
Love withou
t scandal, pleasure without fear.
ELMIRE
I've heard you through—your speech is clear, at least.
But don't you fear that I may take a fancy
To tell my husband of your gallant passion,
And that a prompt report of this affair
May somewhat change the friendship which he bears you?
TARTUFFE
I know that you're too good and generous,
That you will pardon my temerity,
Excuse, upon the score of human frailty,
The violence of passion that offends you,
And not forget, when you consult your mirror,
That I'm not blind, and man is made of flesh.
ELMIRE
Some women might do otherwise, perhaps,
But I am willing to employ discretion,
And not repeat the matter to my husband;
But in return, I'll ask one thing of you:
That you urge forward, frankly and sincerely,
The marriage of Valère to Mariane;
That you give up the unjust influence
By which you hope to win another's rights;
And…
Scene IV
ELMIRE, DAMIS, TARTUFFE
Damis, coming out of the closet-room where he had been hiding
No, I say! This thing must be made public.
I was just there, and overheard it all;
And Heaven's goodness must have brought me there
On purpose to confound this scoundrel's pride
And grant me means to take a signal vengeance
On his hypocrisy and arrogance,
And undeceive my father, showing up
The rascal caught at making love to you.
ELMIRE
No, no; it is enough if he reforms,
Endeavouring to deserve the favour shown him.
And since I've promised, do not you belie me.
'T is not my way to make a public scandal;
An honest wife will scorn to heed such follies,
And never fret her husband's ears with them.
Damis
You've reasons of your own for acting thus;
And I have mine for doing otherwise.
To spare him now would be a mockery;
His bigot's pride has triumphed all too long
Over my righteous anger, and has caused
Far too much trouble in our family.
The rascal all too long has ruled my father,
And crossed my sister's love, and mine as well.
The traitor now must be unmasked before him;
And Providence has given me means to do it.
To Heaven I owe the opportunity,
And if I did not use it now I have it,
I should deserve to lose it once for all.
ELIMIRE
Damis…
DAMIS
No, by your leave; I'll not be counselled.
I'm overjoyed. You need n't try to tell me
I must give up the pleasure of revenge.
I'll make an end of this affair at once;
And, to content me, here's my father now.
Scene V
ORGON, ELMIRE, DAMIS, TARTUFFE
DAMIS
Father, we've news to welcome your arrival,
That's altogether novel, and surprising.
You are well paid for your caressing care,
And this fine gentleman rewards your love
Most handsomely, with zeal that seeks no less
Than your dishonour, as has now been proven.
I've just surprised him making to your wife
The shameful offer of a guilty love.
She, somewhat over gentle and discreet,
Insisted that the thing should be concealed;
But I will not condone such shamelessness,
Nor so far wrong you as to keep it secret.
ELMIRE
Yes, I believe a wife should never trouble
Her husband's peace of mind with such vain gossip;
A woman's honour does not hang on telling;
It is enough if she defend herself;
Or so I think; Damis, you'd not have spoken,
If you would but have heeded my advice.
Scene VI
ORGON, DAMIS, TARTUFFE
ORGON
Just Heaven! Can what I hear be credited?
TARTUFFE
Yes, brother, I am wicked, I am guilty,
A miserable sinner, steeped in evil,
The greatest criminal that ever lived.
Each moment of my life is stained with soilures;
And all is but a mass of crime and filth;
Heaven, for my punishment, I see it plainly,
Would mortify me now. Whatever wrong
They find to charge me with, I'll not deny it
But guard against the pride of self-defence.
Believe their stories, arm your wrath against me,
And drive me like a villain from your house;
I cannot have so great a share of shame
But what I have deserved a greater still.
ORGON, to his son
You miscreant, can you dare, with such a falsehood,
To try to stain the whiteness of his virtue?
DAMIS
What! The feigned meekness of this hypocrite
Makes you discredit…
ORGON
Silence, cursèd plague!
TARTUFFE
Ah! Let him speak; you chide him wrongfully;
You'd do far better to believe his tales.
Why favour me so much in such a matter?
How can you know of what I'm capable?
And should you trust my outward semblance, brother,
Or judge therefrom that I'm the better man?
No, no; you let appearances deceive you;
I'm anything but what I'm thought to be,
Alas! and though all men believe me godly,
The simple truth is, I'm a worthless creature.
(To Damis)
Yes, my dear son, say on, and call me traitor,
Abandoned scoundrel, thief, and murderer;
Heap on me names yet more detestable,
And I shall not gainsay you; I've deserved them;
I'll bear this ignominy on my knees,
To expiate in shame the crimes I've done.
ORGON, to Tartuffe
Ah, brother, 't is too much!
(To his son)
You'll not relent,
You blackguard?
DAMIS
What! His talk can so deceive you…
ORGON
Silence, you scoundrel!
(To Tartuffe)
Brother, rise, I beg you.
(To his son)
Infamous villain!
Can he…
ORGON
Silence!
DAMIS
What…
ORGON
Another word, I'll break your every bone.
TARTUFFE
Brother, in God's name, don't be angry with him!
I'd rather bear myself the bitterest torture
Than have him get a scratch on my account.
ORGON, to his son
Ungrateful monster!
TARTUFFE
Stop. Upon my knees
I beg you pardon him…
Orgon, throwing himself on his knees too, and embracing Tartuffe
Alas! How can you?
(To his son)
Villain! Behold his goodness!
DAMIS
So…
ORGON
Be still,
DAMIS
What! I…
ORGON
Be still, I say. I know your motives
For this attack. You hate him, all of you;
Wife, children, servants, all let loose upon him,
You have recourse to every shameful trick
To driv
e this godly man out of my house;
The more you strive to rid yourselves of him,
The more I'll strive to make him stay with me;
I'll have him straightway married to my daughter,
Just to confound the pride of all of you.
DAMIS
What! Will you force her to accept his hand?
ORGON
Yes, and this very evening, to enrage you,
Young rascal! Ah! I'll brave you all, and show you
That I'm the master, and must be obeyed.
Now, down upon your knees this instant, rogue,
And take back what you said, and ask his pardon.
DAMIS
Who? I? Ask pardon of that cheating scoundrel…?
ORGON
Do you resist, you beggar, and insult him?
A cudgel, here! a cudgel!
(To Tartuffe)
Don't restrain me.
(To his son)
Off with you! Leave my house this instant, sirrah,
And never dare set foot in it again.
DAMIS
Yes, I will leave your house, but…
ORGON
Leave it quickly.
You reprobate, I disinherit you,
And give you, too, my curse into the bargain.
Scene VII
ORGON, TARTUFFE
ORGON
What! So insult a saintly man of God!
TARTUFFE
Heaven, forgive him all the pain he gives me!1
(To Orgon)
Could you but know with what distress I see
Them try to vilify me to my brother!
ORGON
Ah!
TARTUFFE
The mere thought of such ingratitude
Makes my soul suffer torture, bitterly…
My horror at it…Ah! my heart's so full
I cannot speak…I think I'll die of it.
Orgon, in tears, running to the door through which he drove away his son
Scoundrel! I wish I'd never let you go,
But slain you on the spot with my own hand.
Heaven, forgive him even as I forgive him!
Voltaire gives still another reading:
Heaven, forgive me even as I forgive him!
(To Tartuffe)
Brother, compose yourself, and don't be angry.
TARTUFFE
Nay, brother, let us end these painful quarrels.
I see what troublous times I bring upon you,
And think 'T is needful that I leave this house.
ORGON
What! You can't mean it?
TARTUFFE
Yes, they hate me here,
And try, I find, to make you doubt my faith.
ORGON
What of it? Do you find I listen to them?
TARTUFFE
No doubt they won't stop there. These same reports
You now reject, may some day win a hearing.
ORGON
No, brother, never.