How shall I treat him?
CLEANTE
You must not get angry;
And if he talks of reconciliation,
Accept it.
MR. LOYAL, to Orgon
Sir, good-day. And Heaven send
Harm to your enemies, favour to you.
ORGON, aside to Cléante
This mild beginning suits with my conjectures
And promises some compromise already.
MR. LOYAL
All of your house has long been dear to me;
I had the honour, sir, to serve your father.
ORGON
Sir, I am much ashamed, and ask your pardon
For not recalling now your face or name.
MR. LOYAL
My name is Loyal. I'm from Normandy.
My office is court-bailiff, in despite
Of envy; and for forty years, thank Heaven,
It's been my fortune to perform that office
With honour. So I've come, sir, by your leave,
To render service of a certain writ…
ORGON
What, you are here to…
MR. LOYAL
Pray, sir, don't be angry.
'T is nothing, sir, but just a little summons:—
Order to vacate, you and yours, this house,
Move out your furniture, make room for others,
And that without delay or putting off,
As needs must be…
ORGON
I? Leave this house?
MR. LOYAL
Yes, please, sir.
The house is now, as you well know, of course,
Mr. Tartuffe's. And he, beyond dispute,
Of all your goods is henceforth lord and master
By virtue of a contract here attached,
Drawn in due form, and unassailable.
DAMIS, to Mr. Loyal
Your insolence is monstrous, and astounding!
MR. LOYAL, to Damis
I have no business, sir, that touches you;
(Pointing to Orgon)
This is the gentleman. He's fair and courteous,
And knows too well a gentleman's behaviour
To wish in any wise to question justice.
ORGON
But…
MR. LOYAL
Sir, I know you would not for a million
Wish to rebel; like a good citizen
You'll let me put in force the court's decree.
DAMIS
Your long black gown may well, before you know it,
Mister Court-bailiff, get a thorough beating.
MR. LOYAL, to Orgon
Sir, make your son be silent or withdraw.
I should be loath to have to set things down,
And see your names inscribed in my report.
DORINE, aside
This Mr. Loyal's looks are most disloyal.
MR. LOYAL
I have much feeling for respectable
And honest folk like you, sir, and consented
To serve these papers, only to oblige you,
And thus prevent the choice of any other
Who, less possessed of zeal for you than I am,
Might order matters in less gentle fashion.
ORGON
And how could one do worse than order people
Out of their house?
MR. LOYAL
Why, we allow you time;
And even will suspend until to-morrow
The execution of the order, sir.
I'll merely, without scandal, quietly,
Come here and spend the night, with half a score
Of officers; and just for form's sake, please,
You'll bring your keys to me, before retiring.
I will take care not to disturb your rest,
And see there's no unseemly conduct here.
But by to-morrow, and at early morning,
You must make haste to move your least belongings;
My men will help you—I have chosen strong ones
To serve you, sir, in clearing out the house.
No one could act more generously, I fancy,
And, since I'm treating you with great indulgence,
I beg you'll do as well by me, and see
I'm not disturbed in my discharge of duty.
ORGON
I'd give this very minute, and not grudge it,
The hundred best gold louis I have left,
If I could just indulge myself, and land
My fist, for one good square one, on his snout.
CLEANTE, aside to Orgon
Careful!—don't make things worse.
DAMIS
Such insolence!
I hardly can restrain myself. My hands
Are itching to be at him.
DORINE
By my faith,
With such a fine broad back, good Mr. Loyal,
A little beating would become you well.
MR. LOYAL
My girl, such infamous words are actionable,
And warrants can be issued against women.
CLEANTE, to Mr. Loyal
Enough of this discussion, sir; have done.
Give us the paper, and then leave us, pray.
MR. LOYAL
Then au revoir. Heaven keep you from disaster!
ORGON
May Heaven confound you both, you and your
master!
Scene V
ORGON, MADAME PERNELLE, ELMIRE, CLEANTE, MARIANE, DAMIS, DORINE
ORGON
Well, mother, am I right or am I not?
This writ may help you now to judge the matter.
Or don't you see his treason even yet?
MADAME PERNELLE
I'm all amazed, befuddled, and beflustered!
DORINE, to Orgon
You are quite wrong, you have no right to blame him;
This action only proves his good intentions.
Love for his neighbour makes his virtue perfect;
And knowing money is a root of evil,
In Christian charity, he'd take away
Whatever things may hinder your salvation.
ORGON
Be still. You always need to have that told you.
CLEANTE, to Orgon
Come, let us see what course you are to follow.
ELMIRE
Go and expose his bold ingratitude.
Such action must invalidate the contract;
His perfidy must now appear too black
To bring him the success that he expects.
Scene VI
VALERE, ORGON, MADAME PERNELLE, ELMIRE, CLEANTE, MARIANE, DAMIS, DORINE
VALERE
'T is with regret, sir, that I bring bad news;
But urgent danger forces me to do so.
A close and intimate friend of mine, who knows
The interest I take in what concerns you,
Has gone so far, for my sake, as to break
The secrecy that's due to state affairs,
And sent me word but now, that leaves you only
The one expedient of sudden flight.
The villain who so long imposed upon you,
Found means, an hour ago, to see the prince,
And to accuse you (among other things)
By putting in his hands the private strong-box
Of a state-criminal, whose guilty secret,
You, failing in your duty as a subject,
(He says) have kept. I know no more of it
Save that a warrant's drawn against you, sir,
And for the greater surety, that same rascal
Comes with the officer who must arrest you.
CLEANTE
His rights are armed; and this is how the scoundrel
Seeks to secure the property he claims.
ORGON
Man is a wicked animal, I'll own it!
VALERE
The least delay may still be fatal, sir.
I have my carriage, and a th
ousand louis,
Provided for your journey, at the door.
Let's lose no time; the bolt is swift to strike,
And such as only flight can save you from.
I'll be your guide to seek a place of safety,
And stay with you until you reach it, sir.
ORGON
How much I owe to your obliging care!
Another time must serve to thank you fitly;
And I pray Heaven to grant me so much favour
That I may some day recompense your service.
Good-bye; see to it, all of you…
CLEANTE
Come, hurry;
We'll see to everything that's needful, brother.
Scene VII
TARTUFFE, AN OFFICER, MADAME PERNELLE, ORGON, ELMIRE, CLEANTE, MARIANE, VALERE, DAMIS, DORINE
TARTUFFE, stopping Orgon
Softly, sir, softly; do not run so fast;
You haven't far to go to find your lodging;
By order of the prince, we here arrest you.
ORGON
Traitor! You saved this worst stroke for the last;
This crowns your perfidies, and ruins me.
TARTUFFE
I shall not be embittered by your insults,
For Heaven has taught me to endure all things.
CLEANTE
Your moderation, I must own, is great.
DAMIS
How shamelessly the wretch makes bold with Heaven!
TARTUFFE
Your ravings cannot move me; all my thought
Is but to do my duty.
MARIANE
You must claim
Great glory from this honourable act.
TARTUFFE
The act cannot be aught but honourable,
Coming from that high power which sends me here.
ORGON
Ungrateful wretch, do you forget 'twas I
That rescued you from utter misery?
TARTUFFE
I've not forgot some help you may have given;
But my first duty now is toward my prince.
The higher power of that most sacred claim
Must stifle in my heart all gratitude;
And to such puissant ties I'd sacrifice
My friend, my wife, my kindred, and myself.
ELMIRE
The hypocrite!
DORINE
How well he knows the trick
Of cloaking him with what we most revere!
CLEANTE
But if the motive that you make parade of
Is perfect as you say, why should it wait
To show itself, until the day he caught you
Soliciting his wife? How happens it
You have not thought to go inform against him
Until his honour forces him to drive you
Out of his house? And though I need not mention
That he'd just given you his whole estate,
Still, if you meant to treat him now as guilty,
How could you then consent to take his gift?
TARTUFFE, to the officer
Pray, sir, deliver me from all this clamour;
Be good enough to carry out your order.
THE POLICE OFFICER
Yes, I've too long delayed its execution;
'T is very fitting you should urge me to it;
So therefore, you must follow me at once
To prison, where you'll find your lodging ready.
TARTUFFE
Who? I, sir?
THE POLICE OFFICER
You.
TARTUFFE
But why to prison?
THE POLICE OFFICER
You
Are not the one to whom I owe account.
You, sir, (to Orgon), recover from your hot alarm.
Our prince is not a friend to double dealing,
His eyes can read men's inmost hearts, and all
The art of hypocrites cannot deceive him.
His sharp discernment sees things clear and true;
His mind cannot too easily be swayed,
For reason always holds the balance even.
He honours and exalts true piety,
But knows the false, and views it with disgust.
This fellow was by no means apt to fool him,
Far subtler snares have failed against his wisdom,
And his quick insight pierced immediately
The hidden baseness of this tortuous heart.
Accusing you, the knave betrayed himself,
And by true recompense of Heaven's justice
He stood revealed before our monarch's eyes
A scoundrel known before by other names,
Whose horrid crimes, detailed at length, might fill
A long-drawn history of many volumes.
Our monarch—to resolve you in a word—
Detesting his ingratitude and baseness,
Added this horror to his other crimes,
And sent me hither under his direction
To see his insolence out-top itself,
And force him then to give you satisfaction.
Your papers, which the traitor says are his,
I am to take from him, and give you back;
The deed of gift transferring your estate
Our monarch's sovereign will makes null and void;
And for the secret personal offence
Your friend involved you in, he pardons you:
Thus he rewards your recent zeal, displayed
In helping to maintain his rights, and shows
How well his heart, when it is least expected,
Knows how to recompense a noble deed,
And will not let true merit miss its due,
Remembering always rather good than evil.
DORINE
Now Heaven be praised!
MADAME PERNELLE
At last I breathe again.
ELMIRE
A happy outcome!
MARIANE
Who'd have dared to hope it?
ORGON, to Tartuffe, who is being led off by the officer
There, traitor! Now you're…
Scene VIII
MADAME PERNELLE, ORGON, ELMIRE, MARIANE, CLEANTE, VALERE, DAMIS, DORINE
CLEANTE
Brother, hold!—and don't
Descend to such indignities, I beg you.
Leave the poor wretch to his unhappy fate,
And let remorse oppress him, but not you.
Hope rather that his heart may now return
To virtue, hate his vice, reform his ways,
And win the pardon of our glorious prince;
While you must straightway go, and on your knees
Repay with thanks his noble generous kindness.
ORGON
Well said! We'll go, and at his feet kneel down,
With joy to thank him for his goodness shown;
And this first duty done, with honours due,
We'll then attend upon another, too,
With wedded happiness reward Valère,
And crown a lover noble and sincere.
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Tartuffe or The Hypocrite Page 8
