TARTUFFE

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TARTUFFE Page 10

by Ranjit Bolt

They hate that sort of ballyhoo.

  Nor will you see them rush about

  Ferreting so-called sinners out

  And damning them – they call that proud,

  By them, some licence is allowed,

  Humanity shines out of them,

  There’s only one way they’ll condemn

  Such actions as they can’t condone –

  That’s by the goodness of their own.

  They don’t see evil everywhere,

  They’re more disposed to deem it rare.

  They’re tolerant of their fellow men,

  Nor do they share the zealot’s yen

  For intrigue. They have just one aim:

  To live good lives. They’re not aflame

  With wrath against us sinners. No,

  It’s sin they hate. They will not go

  Further than Heaven means them to

  In Heaven’s defence. Now, in my view,

  These are the truly virtuous,

  The models for the rest of us.

  Is your man like them? I fear not.

  I’d lump him with the other lot;

  Your feeling for him’s genuine

  But you’ve been badly taken in.

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