TARTUFFE

by Ranjit Bolt

To gripe and grudge, that will forestall

  Possible scandal (after all,

  Honour is such a fragile thing) –

  There must be no more mingling

  Between me and your wife –

  ORGON: No, no!

  Be intimate with her, more so,

  On that, I really must insist,

  Let no occasion now be missed

  To cause a stir! Let’s have some fun!

  Let’s put the wind up everyone!

  Be seen with Elmire night and day!

  To get at them another way

  I’m going to make you my sole heir –

  Let them oppose me if they dare!

  A deed of gift, that’s what we need –

  I’ll give you all I own – agreed?

  My closest friend, my son-in-law

  You mean as much to me, no, more,

  Than mother, daughter, wife – or son.

  What do you say?

  TARTUFFE: God’s will be done!

  ORGON: Poor man! I’m off to change my will.

  The swines! This ought to make them ill!

  End of Act Three.

  ACT FOUR

  A room in Orgon’s house. A table, with a bottle of wine on it. TARTUFFE, CLEANTE.

  CLEANTE: I’m very glad I’ve found you here

  I want a quick word in your ear.

  It is the talk of half the town

  And, need I say, your stock’s gone down.

  People aren’t taking it too well –

  You’re censured, hated, truth to tell.

  I won’t examine this close to –

  Let’s take a pessimistic view

  And call it all a calumny

  Devised with malice, by Damis:

  Still, it is better to forgo

  Vengeance than to exact it, no?

  Isn’t that the Christian way?

  I’m sure it’s what the scriptures say.

  Is Orgon to disown his son

  So you can see full justice done?

  You want to know what I’d advise?

  Make peace. Accept a compromise,

  Not tooth for tooth and eye for eye –

  Back down, forget it, let it lie,

  And use your influence with Orgon –

  Persuade him to take back his son.

  TARTUFFE: I long for peace with all my heart,

  Were it permitted – for my part,

  I bear no grudge, I love Damis,

  But I’m afraid it cannot be.

  For Heaven will not have it so:

  If he returns, then I must go –

  How is it meet that I should stay

  When he has acted in this way?

  No, tongues would wag, the world would say

  That I was guilty, and afraid.

  That, having done what he had said,

  I wished to keep my enemy

  As close as possible to me

  To stop him saying anything.

  CLEANTE: That’s specious, spurious reasoning.

  ‘Heaven will not have it so’!

  And how the Devil would you know?

  That is the question we must ask:

  Would God assign to you the task

  Of punishing a guilty man?

  D’you loom so large in Heaven’s plan?

  God’s mercy – mercy’s what we want,

  His wrath is quite irrelevant.

  Hasn’t He told us to forgive?

  To turn a cheek? Live and let live?

  Do as he says then! Need you mind

  About the judgement of mankind

  When what you’re called on to fulfil

  Is nothing less than Heaven’s will?

  Of course not – if an action’s good

  Who cares if it’s misunderstood?

  Why give a damn what people say?

  Just do the right thing, come what may.

  TARTUFFE: Forgive Damis? Of course I do!

  How could I not? God tells me to.

  But the disgraceful things he’s said,

  The shame he’s heaped upon my head,

  They are too much for me to bear –

  Heaven does not order me to share

  A roof with him.

  CLEANTE: I see. And pray,

  Just what does Heaven have to say

  About this whimsical idea

  Orgon’s just had – I’d love to hear.

  He means to make you his sole heir:

  Perhaps you have some scruples there?

  Or does Almighty God demand

  That you take money, goods and land

  That are not yours, or shouldn’t be,

  Because their owner’s off his tree?

  TARTUFFE: No one who knew me would maintain

  That I’d done anything for gain,

  If I’ve a vice, it isn’t greed:

  Money’s the last thing I could need.

  Earthly allurements leave me cold,

  The glint of jewels, the gleam of gold

  Don’t dazzle me. And if I take

  This gift his father wants to make

  It’s only out of fear – that’s right,

  An apprehension that it might

  Fall into hands, the Lord knows whose,

  That would not put it to good use,

  That might wreak evil with such wealth,

  Not, as I mean to do myself,

  Distribute it among the poor,

  Putting God’s glory to the fore.

  CLEANTE: What subtle fears you’re troubled by!

  What you should ask yourself is why

  You’re cheating Orgon’s rightful heir.

  If there is any danger there,

  I mean, in this inheritance,

  Then let the poor lad take his chance,

  Let him possess what’s his by right.

  Will he abuse it? Well, he might.

  It would be infinitely worse

  If people thought you’d lined your purse

  At his expense. This much is plain:

  The holy scriptures don’t contain

  A single passage that declares:

  ‘Thou shalt defraud thy neighbour’s heirs’!

  And as to sharing roofs, try this:

  You’re not a guest we’re going to miss,

  I certainly won’t feel the lack –

  You go, and let Damis come back.

  He pauses to see how TARTUFFE takes it; no reaction from him.

  This won’t look good, believe you me...

  Monsieur...

  TARTUFFE: Monsieur, it’s half past three.

  I’m sorry, I must go upstairs

  For more self-chastisement and prayers.

  CLEANTE: (Calling after TARTUFFE, who is leaving.)

  A pseudo-Christ, that’s what you are!

  When you were born, was there a star?

  Did you rewrite Celestial Law?

  And was this water here before?

  (Points at the bottle and glass with wine in it on the table.) Ah!

  Enter DORINE, MARIANE, ELMIRE.

  DORINE: Please, Monsieur, we need your aid,

  The girl is fading, I’m afraid,

  I fear she’s lost the will to fight,

  The contract’s to be signed tonight,

  Let’s band together, you and I –

  We simply must have one last try...

  He’s coming!

  Enter ORGON, with a parchment in his hand.

  ORGON: Everybody here?

  (To MARIANE.) You know what this contains, my dear –

  This contract here is nothing less

  Than your long lease on happiness!

  MARIANE: (Kneeling.) Father, I beg you, in the name

  Of Heaven, who beholds my pain:

  If, in your heart, I still excite

  Some feeling, waive a father’s right,

  When you command, I must obey,

  This once, don’t exercise your sway.

  For pity’s sake, do
n’t make me rue

  The day that I was born, when you

  Bestowed on me the gift of life.

  Stop me from being Valère’s wife,

  Destroy my only hope of bliss,

  But, please, content yourself with this,

  Consider it as Hell enough,

  Don’t add the torment of Tartuffe!

  ORGON: (Feels himself weakening, and chivvies himself.)

  Stay firm! No human weakness, please!

  Have to be tough at times like these.

  MARIANE: Be kind to him, be far too kind,

  Pamper, prefer him, I don’t mind,

  By all means, let him help himself

  To hearth and home, to wife and wealth,

  Add my wealth, too, to eke yours out –

  My body, let him do without.

  Let me become a nun instead,

  Since all I wish to be is dead

  Why should a living death dismay?

  ORGON: That’s an excuse to disobey:

  A headstrong girl can’t have the one

  She wants, so she becomes a nun.

  It’s an old trick. The more you fight

  The more convinced I am I’m right:

  Your flesh must now be mortified

  To curb your insolence and pride.

  Some suffering’s long overdue.

  Get up!

  DORINE: But hold on...

  ORGON: Shut up, you!

  I’ve instituted a new law

  Which says you can’t talk anymore.

  CLEANTE: May I throw in my thruppence worth?

  ORGON: You are the wisest man on earth –

  I don’t want wisdom, not today.

  ELMIRE: Well, well! I don’t know what to say.

  You’re still so blind? This makes no sense,

  Considering today’s events.

  Tartuffe has really turned your head –

  No, if you found him in my bed

  You’re so besotted, so obsessed

  You’d just say: ‘Splendid – be my guest.’!

  ORGON: It’s shaky ground you’re standing on:

  You’re biased, you support my son,

  And when he set his little snare

  You didn’t speak, you didn’t dare,

  But you were too controlled, too calm,

  You didn’t show enough alarm;

  You lent no credit to his lie.

  ELMIRE: I hadn’t just been raped, had I?

  A woman’s colour needn’t rise

  Or fire be flashing in her eyes

  Over a little harmless pass;

  The man’s attentions are a farce,

  I’m not some prude, forever keen

  To throw a fit and make a scene,

  Nor do I think it very wise

  To scratch out some poor fellow’s eyes

  For uttering a salacious word!

  I find it equally absurd

  To splutter like a lunatic

  When one smart put-down does the trick?

  ORGON: I know the facts. I’m sure I’m right.

  ELMIRE: His lunacy has reached its height.

  (To ORGON.) Suppose I managed to arrange

  A trap? Would your opinion change?

  If we could catch him out? What then?

  ORGON: A trap?

  ELMIRE: Yes.

  ORGON: Pish!

  ELMIRE: But, if and when...

  An in flagrante rendez-vous

  Conducted in full view of you –

  You’ll see him at it –

  ORGON: Can’t be done.

  ELMIRE: But just suppose I managed one.

  It’s hypothetical as yet

  But if this gin, this snare, was set,

  And you could see him, hear him, then

  Would he still be the best of men?

  ORGON: I might... I might...but, as I say,

  You couldn’t do it anyway.

  ELMIRE: I don’t like being accused of lies.

  I’ll lift the scales now from your eyes.

  It’s high time. Without more ado

  I’ll prove that all we’ve said is true.

  ORGON: Prove it? I’d like to see you try!

  Press on, then – I’ll be standing by.

  ELMIRE: (To DORINE.) Send for him.

  DORINE: Ah, but he’s so sly,

  You bet your life he’ll smell a rat.

  ELMIRE: Oh, yes? I wouldn’t bank on that –

  He loves me, and he’s also vain,

  That double drug will dull his brain –

  We’ll catch him. Send him down.

  Exit DORINE.

  (To CLEANTE and MARIANE.) You two,

  Skedaddle, please – I shan’t need you.

  Exeunt CLEANTE and MARIANE. ELMIRE brings a table over.

  (To ORGON.) Get underneath this table, quick.

  ORGON: What for?

  ELMIRE: So I can play my trick.

  ORGON: The table? But I fail to see...

  ELMIRE: Look, will you just be ruled by me?

  Be patient. Soon you’ll understand.

  I’ve got the whole thing neatly planned –

  Now come on, underneath you go –

  And keep well hidden.

  ORGON: I don’t know!

  I let myself be messed about –

  Still, have to see how this turns out.

  ELMIRE: You won’t regret it. – One thing more,

  Something I’d best prepare you for:

  In order to remove his mask

  I’ll have to – say things. I must ask

  That you keep calm, and quiet, throughout.

  Remember what this is about –

  Uncovering a hypocrite –

  I’ll have to lead him on a bit

  And let him think he has some hope,

  To hang himself he’ll need some rope,

  No matter what you hear me say

  It’s for your sake. And anyway

  To stop me, all you have to do

  Is show yourself – it’s up to you

  How close we get, how far he goes,

  There’ll be a moment, I suppose,

  When you, yes, even you, see sense

  And have sufficient evidence –

  I won’t be called on to proceed...

  To go too far when there’s no need.

  Well, anyway, I hope that’s clear:

  A: risky though it may appear

  It’s all being done for you, and B:

  It’s in your power to rescue me.

  Noises off: TARTUFFE whistling a hymn.

  (Whispers.) That’ll be him. Take up your post.

  Don’t let him see you, or all’s lost.

  ORGON stows himself under the table; enter TARTUFFE.

  TARTUFFE: You sent for me?

  ELMIRE: I had a few

  More...secrets to discuss with you.

  Before we start, though, shut the door

  And check, check carefully.

  TARTUFFE: What for?

  ELMIRE: Remember last time, and Damis – ?

  TARTUFFE is checking the room.

  You know, he really frightened me –

  I was afraid for you, I mean –

  My goodness, what a nasty scene!

  The boy would not be pacified,

  You saw yourself how hard I tried

  To calm him, and to stop the leak –

  I must admit, when he did speak,

  I should have said it was a lie

  But I was worked up, wasn’t I?

  I couldn’t think straight. Anyway,

  You’re safe – all’s well that ends well, eh?

  My husband couldn’t take against

  A man he’d placed among the saints.

  People will talk, they always do –

  He’ll thwart them, he’s determined to –

  Hence his insisting that you see

  As much as possible of me!

  That’s useful: we can linger here


  And talk, and...dally, without fear;

  I can be bolder now, and start

  To open up my amorous heart,

  And hasten to reciprocate

  Your love – or maybe I should wait...?

  TARTUFFE: This morning cold, this afternoon

  So warm, nay, hot – you’ve changed your tune!

  ELMIRE: You were upset by my rebuff?

  Why then, Monsieur, it’s plain enough

  You don’t know women, or the clues

  We give, the secret code we use:

  A love so falteringly denied,

  A heart so feebly fortified,

  I can’t imagine where you’ve been

  If you don’t fathom what they mean:

  Some small resistance we must make,

  If only for our honour’s sake,

  No matter how sincere our love

  If there’s one thing we’re chary of

  It’s telling all – we’re made that way,

  But what we feel and what we say

  Are different things, and all the while,

  If we reject you in this style,

  It’s clear we’re really ripe for sin:

  We turn you down – you know you’re in.

  There now, I’ve made my feelings known,

  A lot of reticence I’ve shown!

  But now I’ve spoken, don’t you see?

  I wouldn’t have restrained Damis,

  Or heard you out so patiently,

  Received the offer of your heart

  Without deterring you, from start

  To finish, acted, in a word,

  As you have seen, and felt, and heard,

  Unless I welcomed your advance...

  And here’s another circumstance:

  Just why did I oppose this plan

  Of matching you with Mariane?

  What did you understand by that?

  What was I really driving at?

  Didn’t that more or less declare:

  ‘I want you all, and not a share!’?

  TARTUFFE: These words from you, the one I love,

  The woman I’ve been dreaming of,

  They course, like honey, though each vein,

  Never before, never again

  Have I, or will I, know a bliss,

  Or a pure sweetness such as this.

  For me your love spells happiness –

  I am – mistrustful, nonetheless:

  Why should you drop into my lap?

  How do I know it’s not a trap?

  Let me be frank: I don’t see why

  You wouldn’t stoop to tell a lie,

  In fact, use every means you can

  To make me give up Mariane.