Tartuffe; Or, The Hypocrite
Damis, and what made me listen so long
And so kindly to your sweet love song?
Would I have reacted as you saw me do
If the offer of your heart didn't please me too?
And what should you be able to conclude
From my fervent desire to preclude
The marriage that has been announced just now?
Isn't it that I'd hate for a wedding vow
To come between us, and that I care for you
And want nothing at all to split us in two?
Tartuffe. There is no pleasure in Heaven above
Sweeter than such words from the lips I love;
Their honeyed sound flows richly through my senses
With the sweetness of the purest essences.
The pleasure of pleasing you is my one goal,
And my heart finds happiness in that role,
But that heart also takes the slight liberty
Of daring to doubt this felicity.
Perhaps these sweet words are a decorous ruse
Designed to disrupt my hymeneal news;
And, if I may speak quite freely with you,
I won't believe that all you say is true
Until I'm assured that you couldn't lie
By a few of those favors for which I sigh.
Such favors would make me your devotee
And a true believer in your fondness for me.
Elmire [she coughs to warn her husband]. Do you demand to push on with such great speed,
And drain my heart dry by your burning need?
I risk my life in proclaiming my love,
And for you even that is not enough!
Can't you be satisfied with what I say?
Must you force me into going all the way?
Tartuffe. The less one merits, the more one desires.
Mere words will never quench our raging fires.
A promised gift is often suspected;
We rarely believe it, until we inspect it.
I, who so little merit your favors,
Doubt the happy outcome of my labors.
And I will not believe a thing, my dear,
Until you ease my pain to prove you're sincere.
Elmire. Good God, your love is too oppressive;
It troubles my soul and becomes obsessive!
What a crazy power it has on the heart!
With what fierce passion it tears me apart!
What! Is there no way to stave off your desire?
Won't you give me a moment to respire?
Do you think it is fair to be so firm,
To demand everything and watch me squirm,
To take what you want, pushing and pressing,
And abusing my weakness in acquiescing?
Tartuffe. If you look on me with a kindly heart,
Then prove how you feel by playing your part.
Elmire. But how can I give you the things you seek
Without offending that God of whom you speak?
Tartuffe. If it's only God that opposes my desire,
I'll think up a way to make him conspire,
And that need not restrain your heart, my dear.
Elmire. But the decrees of God scare me to tears.
Tartuffe. I can dispel your foolish fears, madame,
For I know the art of quashing each qualm.
Though God forbids certain gratifications,
With him one can reach one's accommodations.
It is a science to stretch out the strings
Of conscience in the service of diverse things
And to rectify an evil action
With the purity of our intention.
Regarding these secrets, I shall instruct you;
You need only allow me to conduct you.
Satisfy my desire and have no fear;
I'll assume the sin and leave your soul clear.
[Elmire coughs more loudly.]
That's quite a cough, madame.
Elmire. Yes, it's a torment.
Tartuffe [offering Elmire a piece of candy]. Would it help to have a licorice or mint?
Elmire. It's an obstinate illness, and I see
That all the mints in the world won't help me
Tartuffe. It's certainly troublesome.
Elmire. That's for sure!
Tartuffe. Your scruples at least are easy to cure:
You can be sure that I will keep things quiet--
A deed is evil only if men spy it.
The noise of scandal is the source of offense;
There is no sin if one sins in silence.
Elmire [after having coughed and knocked on the table]. At last I see I'm forced to go astray,
And I must consent to let you have your way,
And that I cannot hope that short of the deed
You will be content and willing to concede.
It is very hard to be forced to do it,
And in spite of myself to stoop down to it;
But since you persist in making me obey,
Since you refuse to believe what I say,
And since you demand more convincing proof,
I'll have to give in and quit acting aloof.
If this action causes anyone grief,
The blame be on him who refused all relief.
The fault most certainly is none of mine.
Tartuffe. Yes, madame, I agree and that is fine . . .
Elmire. Peek out of the door and see, I beg you,
If my spouse is spying on our rendezvous.
Tartuffe. Why do you care what he sees or where he goes?
He's a man who loves to be led by the nose.
Our trysts are something he's proud of achieving,
And he'd watch us go to it without believing.
Elmire. No matter. Please, go have a look outside;
I'd hate to think he's found some place to hide.
SCENE VI
Orgon, Elmire
Orgon [coming out from under the table]. There, I swear, is an abominable man!
I can't get over it. What is his plan?
Elmire. How now? Come out so soon? Were you having fun?
Get back down there. We've only just begun.
Wait till the end to be completely sure,
And don't put your faith in mere conjecture.
Orgon. No man more evil has been spawned in Hell.
Elmire. Dear Lord! Don't believe the lies people tell.
Be wholly convinced before you concede:
Cautious men shun the slips that come with speed.
[She pushes her husband behind her.]
SCENE VII
Tartuffe, Elmire, Orgon
Tartuffe [without seeing Orgon]. All things conspire, madame, for my contentment:
I've closely examined the whole apartment;
No one is around, and my heart's delight. . .
[Just as Tartuffe comes forward with open arms to embrace Elmire, she steps back and Tartuffe sees Orgon.]
Orgon [stopping him]. Hold on! Your desires are too quick to ignite,
And you mustn't let passion be overdone.
Oh! Man of blessings, you wished to give me one!
How temptation has taken over your life!
You'd marry my daughter, and covet my wife!
I've doubted your word for quite a long while,
And I've always believed you'd change your style;
But this is enough to give me my proof:
I am fed up and want no more, Tartuffe.
Elmire [to Tartuffe]. It was against my will to act this way,
But I was forced into the part I play.
Tartuffe [to Orgon]. What? You think . . .
Orgon. Come, please, let's have no to-do.
Get out of my home without more ado.
Tartuffe. My intent . . .
Orgon. This is no time for sly repartee;
You must leave my house immediately.
Tartuffe. You must leave, you who speak as the master:
The house is mine, and you'd better learn fast or
I will show you that it's senseless to pick
A fight with me using this cowardly trick,
That it will get you nowhere to insult me,
And that I will punish your falsity,
Avenge God's wounds, and make you grieve
For talking here about forcing me to leave.
SCENE VIII
Elmire, Orgon
Elmire. What is he saying and what is he after?
Orgon. I'm ashamed to say this is no time for laughter.
Elmire. Why?
Orgon. I see my error by what he said;
I gave him my lands. Something's wrong with my head!
Elmire. You gave him . . .
Orgon. Yes and they can't be restored,
But there's something else that troubles me more.
Elmire. What is that?
Orgon. I'll tell you soon, but first there's
A certain box I want to find upstairs.
ACT V
SCENE I
Orgon, Cleante
Cleante. Where are you rushing?
Orgon. Who knows?
Cleante. It might make sense
To begin by having a conference
About everything that has happened lately.
Orgon. That box of papers troubles me greatly;
More than all the rest, it's cause for distress.
Cleante. Why are those papers important to possess?
Orgon. My unfortunate friend Argus, when he
Put them into my hands, swore me to secrecy.
He chose to rely on me as he fled,
And these papers, according to what he said,
Are crucial to both his life and his wealth.
Cleante. Then why didn't you keep them to yourself?
Orgon. It was a matter of conscience, you see,
So I consulted Tartuffe in secrecy,
And his arguments came to persuade me
That he should keep the box for security,
So I could deny having it on hand.
And thus I'd have a subterfuge on demand
With which my conscience might muddle through
In swearing to things that I knew weren't true.
Cleante. You're in trouble, judging by appearances;
Both the deed of gift and these confidences
Are, to tell you my thoughts quite honestly,
Measures that you took very thoughtlessly.
They might put you in jail with such evidence,
And since that man has it, it makes no sense
To drive him away through your imprudence,
You need to regain his full confidence.
Orgon. With what a fair appearance and touching zeal
He hides a wicked soul and a heart of steel!
And I, who received him begging and broke . . .
That's it, I renounce all such pious folk.
Henceforth, I will hold them as wholly evil
And do my best to send them to the devil.
Cleante. It's just like you to get carried away!
You can never stick to the middle way.
To reason rightly is too much bother;
You always rush from one excess to another.
You can see your error and now you know
That by a false zeal you were brought low.
But to redeem yourself does logic demand
That you embrace an error that's even more grand?
And must you confuse the heart of a shill
With the hearts of all the men of good will?
Because a rascal had the luck or grace
To dupe you with his austere and shining face,
Must you believe everyone acts that way
And no true church-man can be found today?
Leave to libertines these foolish deductions.
Seek true virtue, not a false deconstruction.
Never rush into hasty admiration,
And strive instead for moderation.
If possible, don't admire false pretense,
But also don't give true zeal cause for offense,
And if you must fall to one extreme,
Err in being too free with your esteem.
SCENE II
Damis, Orgon, Cleante
Damis. Father, is it true that this cad threatens you,
That he has forgotten the gifts that bound you two,
And that his shameful pride, maddeningly,
Has repaid your kindness with tyranny?
Orgon. Yes, son; he's brought me to the verge of tears.
Damis. Leave him to me. I'll cut off his ears.
You must not flinch before his insolence
For I'll soon restore your independence,
And, to end the matter, I'll slice him like toast.