Tartuffe or The Hypocrite

by Jean-Baptiste Moliere

  That is the pattern we should set ourselves.

  Your fellow was not fashioned on this model;

  You're quite sincere in boasting of his zeal;

  But you're deceived, I think, by false pretences.

  ORGON

  My dear good brother-in-law, have you quite done?

  CLEANTE

  Yes.

  ORGON

  I'm your humble servant.

  (Starts to go.)

  CLEANTE

  Just a word.

  We'll drop that other subject. But you know

  Valère has had the promise of your daughter.

  ORGON

  Yes.

  CLEANTE

  You had named the happy day.

  ORGON

  'T is true.

  CLEANTE

  Then why put off the celebration of it?

  ORGON

  I can't say.

  CLEANTE

  Can you have some other plan

  In mind?

  ORGON

  Perhaps.

  CLEANTE

  You mean to break your word?

  ORGON

  I don't say that.

  CLEANTE

  I hope no obstacle

  Can keep you from performing what you've promised.

  ORGON

  Well, that depends.

  CLEANTE

  Why must you beat about?

  Valère has sent me here to settle matters.

  ORGON

  Heaven be praised!

  CLEANTE

  What answer shall I take him?

  ORGON

  Why, anything you please.

  CLEANTE

  But we must know

  Your plans. What are they?

  ORGON

  I shall do the will

  Of Heaven.

  CLEANTE

  Come, be serious. You've given

  Your promise to Valère. Now will you keep it?

  ORGON

  Good-bye.

  CLEANTE, alone

  His love, methinks, has much to fear;

  I must go let him know what's happening here.

  1Referring to the rebellion called La Fronde, during the minority of Louis XIV.

  2Molière's note, inserted in the text of all the old editions. It is a curious illustration of the desire for uniformity and dignity of style in dramatic verse of the seventeenth century, that Molière feels called on to apologize for a touch of realism like this. Indeed, these lines were even omitted when the play was given.

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  Act II

  Scene I

  ORGON, MARIANE

  ORGON

  Now, Mariane.

  MARIANE

  Yes, father?

  ORGON

  Come; I'll tell you

  A secret.

  MARIANE

  Yes…What are you looking for?

  Òrgon, looking into a small closet-room

  To see there's no one there to spy upon us;

  That little closet's mighty fit to hide in.

  There! We're all right now. Mariane, in you

  I've always found a daughter dutiful

  And gentle. So I've always loved you dearly.

  MARIANE

  I'm grateful for your fatherly affection.

  ORGON

  Well spoken, daughter. Now, prove you deserve it

  By doing as I wish in all respects.

  MARIANE

  To do so is the height of my ambition.

  ORGON

  Excellent well. What say you of—Tartuffe?

  MARIANE

  Who? I?

  ORGON

  Yes, you. Look to it how you answer.

  MARIANE

  Why! I'll say of him—anything you please.

  Scene II

  ORGON, MARIANE; DORINE, coming in quietly, and standing behind Orgon, so that he does not see her

  ORGON

  Well spoken. A good girl. Say then, my daughter,

  That all his person shines with noble merit,

  That he has won your heart, and you would like

  To have him, by my choice, become your husband.

  Eh?

  MARIANE

  Eh?

  ORGON

  What say you?

  MARIANE

  Please, what did you say?

  ORGON

  What?

  MARIANE

  Surely I mistook you, sir?

  ORGON

  How now?

  MARIANE

  Who is it, father, you would have me say

  Has won my heart, and I would like to have

  Become my husband, by your choice?

  ORGON

  Tartuffe.

  MARIANE

  But, father, I protest it isn't true!

  Why should you make me tell this dreadful lie?

  ORGON

  Because I mean to have it be the truth.

  Let this suffice for you: I've settled it.

  MARIANE

  What, father, you would…?

  ORGON

  Yes, child, I'm resolved

  To graft Tartuffe into my family.

  So he must be your husband. That I've settled.

  And since your duty…

  (Seeing Dorine)

  What are you doing there?

  Your curiosity is keen, my girl,

  To make you come eavesdropping on us so.

  DORINE

  Upon my word, I don't know how the rumour

  Got started—if 'twas guess-work or mere chance—

  But I had heard already of this match,

  And treated it as utter stuff and nonsense.

  ORGON

  What! Is the thing incredible?

  DORINE

  So much so

  I don't believe it even from yourself, sir.

  ORGON

  I know a way to make you credit it.

  DORINE

  No, no, you're telling us a fairy tale!

  ORGON

  I'm telling you just what will happen shortly.

  DORINE

  Stuff!

  ORGON

  Daughter, what I say is in good earnest.

  DORINE

  There, there, don't take your father seriously;

  He's fooling.

  ORGON

  But I tell you…

  DORINE

  No. No use.

  They won't believe you.

  ORGON

  If I let my anger…

  DORINE

  Well, then, we do believe you; and the worse

  For you it is. What! Can a grown-up man

  With that expanse of beard across his face

  Be mad enough to want…?

  ORGON

  You hark to me:

  You've taken on yourself here in this house

  A sort of free familiarity

  That I don't like, I tell you frankly, girl.

  DORINE

  There, there, let's not get angry, sir, I beg you.

  But are you making game of everybody?

  Your daughter's not cut out for bigot's meat;

  And he has more important things to think of.

  Besides, what can you gain by such a match?

  How can a man of wealth, like you, go choose

  A wretched vagabond for son-in-law?

  ORGON

  You hold your tongue. And know, the less he has,

  The better cause have we to honour him.

  His poverty is honest poverty;

  It should exalt him more than worldly grandeur,

  For he has let himself be robbed of all,

  Through careless disregard of temporal things

  And fixed attachment to the things eternal.

  My help may set him on his feet again,

  Win back his property—a fair estate

  He has at home, so I'm informed—and prove him

  For what he is, a true-born ge
ntleman.

  DORINE

  Yes, so he says himself. Such vanity

  But ill accords with pious living, sir.

  The man who cares for holiness alone

  Should not so loudly boast his name and birth;

  The humble ways of genuine devoutness

  Brook not so much display of earthly pride.

  Why should he be so vain?…But I offend you:

  Let's leave his rank then—take the man himself:

  Can you without compunction give a man

  Like him possession of a girl like her!

  Think what a scandal's sure to come of it!

  Virtue is at the mercy of the fates,

  When a girl's married to a man she hates;

  The best intent to live an honest woman

  Depends upon the husband's being human,

  And men whose brows are pointed at afar

  May thank themselves their wives are what they are.

  For to be true is more than woman can,

  With husbands built upon a certain plan;

  And he who weds his child against her will

  Owes heaven account for it, if she do ill.

  Think then what perils wait on your design.

  ORGON, to Mariane

  So! I must learn what's what from her, you see!

  DORINE

  You might do worse than follow my advice.

  ORGON

  Daughter, we can't waste time upon this nonsense;

  I know what's good for you, and I'm your father.

  True, I had promised you to young Valère;

  But, first, they tell me he's inclined to gamble,

  And then, I fear his faith is not quite sound.

  I haven't noticed that he's regular

  At church.

  DORINE

  You'd have him run there just when you do,

  Like those who go on purpose to be seen?

  ORGON

  I don't ask your opinion on the matter.

  In short, the other is in Heaven's best graces,

  And that is riches quite beyond compare.

  This match will bring you every joy you long for;

  'T will be all steeped in sweetness and delight.

  You'll live together, in your faithful loves,

  Like two sweet children, like two turtle-doves;

  You'll never fall to quarrel, scold, or tease,

  And you may do with him whate'er you please.

  DORINE

  With him? Do naught but give him horns, I'll warrant.

  ORGON

  Out on the wench!

  DORINE

  I tell you he's cut out for 't;

  However great your daughter's virtue, sir,

  His destiny is sure to prove the stronger.

  ORGON

  Have done with interrupting. Hold your tongue.

  Don't poke your nose in other people's business.

  DORINE (She keeps interrupting him, just as he turns and starts to speak to his daughter.)

  If I make bold, sir, 'T is for your own good.

  ORGON

  You're too officious; pray you, hold your tongue.

  DORINE

  'T is love of you…

  ORGON

  I want none of your love.

  DORINE

  Then I will love you in your own despite.

  ORGON

  You will, eh?

  DORINE

  Yes, your honour's dear to me;

  I can't endure to see you made the butt

  Of all men's ridicule.

  ORGON

  Won't you be still?

  DORINE

  'T would be a sin to let you make this match.

  ORGON

  Won't you be still, I say, you impudent viper!

  DORINE

  What! you are pious, and you lose your temper?

  ORGON

  I'm all wrought up, with your confounded nonsense;

  Now, once for all, I tell you hold your tongue.

  DORINE

  Then mum's the word; I'll take it out in thinking

  ORGON

  Think all you please; but not a syllable

  To me about it, or…you understand!

  (Turning to his daughter)

  As a wise father, I've considered all

  With due deliberation.

  DORINE

  I'll go mad

  If I can't speak.

  (She stops the instant he turns his head.)

  ORGON

  Though he's no lady's man,

  Tartuffe is well enough…

  DORINE

  A pretty phiz!

  ORGON

  So that, although you may not care at all

  For his best qualities…

  DORINE

  A handsome dowry!

  (Orgon turns and stands in front of her, with arms folded, eyeing her)

  Were I in her place, any man should rue it

  Who married me by force, that's mighty certain;

  I'd let him know, and that within a week,

  A woman's vengeance isn't far to seek.

  ORGON, to Dorine

  So—nothing that I say has any weight?

  DORINE

  Eh? What's wrong now? I didn't speak to you.

  ORGON

  What were you doing?

  DORINE

  Talking to myself.

  ORGON

  Oh! Very well. (Aside) Her monstrous impudence

  Must be chastised with one good slap in the face.

  (He stands ready to strike her, and, each time he speaks to his daughter, he glances toward her; but she stands still and says not a word.)1

  ORGON

  Daughter, you must approve of my design…

  Think of this husband…I have chosen for you…

  (To Dorine)

  Why don't you talk to yourself?

  DORINE

  Nothing to say.

  ORGON

  One little word more.

  DORINE

  Oh, no, thanks. Not now.

  ORGON

  Sure, I'd have caught you.

  DORINE

  Faith, I'm no such fool.

  ORGON

  So, daughter, now obedience is the word;

  You must accept my choice with reverence.

  dorine, running away

  You'd never catch me marrying such a creature.

  orgon, swinging his hand at her and missing her

  Daughter, you've such a pestilent hussy there

  I can't live with her longer, without sin.

  I can't discuss things in the state I'm in.

  My mind's so flustered by her insolent talk,

  To calm myself, I must go take a walk.

  Scene III

  MARIANE, DORINE

  DORINE

  Say, have you lost the tongue from out your head?

  And must I speak your rôle from A to Zed?

  You let them broach a project that's absurd,

  And don't oppose it with a single word!

  MARIANE

  What can I do? My father is the master.

  Dorine

  Do? Everything, to ward off such disaster.

  MARIANE

  But what?

  DORINE

  Tell him one doesn't love by proxy;

  Tell him you'll marry for yourself, not him;

  Since you're the one for whom the thing is done,

  You are the one, not he, the man must please;

  If his Tartuffe has charmed him so, why let him

  Just marry him himself—no one will hinder.

  MARIANE

  A father's rights are such, it seems to me,

  That I could never dare to say a word.

  DORINE

  Come, talk it out. Valère has asked your hand:

  Now do you love him, pray, or do you not?

  MARIANE

  Dorine! How can you wrong my love so much,

  And as
k me such a question? Have I not

  A hundred times laid bare my heart to you?

  Do you not know how ardently I love him?

  DORINE

  How do I know if heart and words agree,

  And if in honest truth you really love him?

  MARIANE

  Dorine, you wrong me greatly if you doubt it;

  I've shown my inmost feelings, all too plainly.

  DORINE

  So then, you love him?

  MARIANE

  Yes, devotedly.

  DORINE

  And he returns your love, apparently?

  MARIANE

  I think so.

  DORINE

  And you both alike are eager

  To be well married to each other?

  Mariane

  Surely.

  DORINE

  Then what's your plan about this other match?

  MARIANE

  To kill myself, if it is forced upon me.

  DORINE

  Good! That's a remedy I hadn't thought of.

  Just die, and everything will be all right.

  This medicine is marvellous, indeed!

  It drives me mad to hear folk talk such nonsense.

  MARIANE

  Oh dear, Dorine, you get in such a temper!

  You have no sympathy for people's troubles.

  DORINE

  I have no sympathy when folk talk nonsense,

  And flatten out as you do, at a pinch.

  MARIANE

  But what can you expect?—if one is timid?—

  DORINE

  But what is love worth, if it has no courage?

  MARIANE

  Am I not constant in my love for him?

  Is't not his place to win me from my father?

  DORINE

  But if your father is a crazy fool,

  And quite bewitched with his Tartuffe? And breaks

  His bounden word? Is that your lover's fault?

  MARIANE

  But shall I publicly refuse and scorn

  This match, and make it plain that I'm in love?

  Shall I cast off for him, whatever he be,

  Womanly modesty and filial duty?

  You ask me to display my love in public…?

  DORINE

  No, no, I ask you nothing. You shall be

  Mister Tartuffe's; why, now I think of it,

  I should be wrong to turn you from this marriage.

  What cause can I have to oppose your wishes?

  So fine a match! An excellent good match!

  Mister Tartuffe! Oh ho! No mean proposal!

  Mister Tartuffe, sure, take it all in all,

  Is not a man to sneeze at—oh, by no means!

  'T is no small luck to be his happy spouse.

  The whole world joins to sing his praise already;

  He's noble—in his parish; handsome too;

  Red ears, and high complexion—oh, my lud!

  You'll be too happy, sure, with him for husband.

  MARIANE

  Oh dear!…

  DORINE

  What joy and pride will fill your heart

  To be the bride of such a handsome fellow!

  MARIANE