Tartuffe; Or, The Hypocrite

Molière

Tartuffe; Or, The Hypocrite

INTRODUCTORY NOTE

Jean Baptiste Poquelin, better known by his stage name of Moliere, stands without a rival at the head of French comedy. Born at Paris in January, 1622, where his father held a position in the royal household, he was educated at the Jesuit College de Clermont, and for some time studied law, which he soon abandoned for the stage. His life was spent in Paris and in the provinces, acting, directing performances, managing theaters, and writing plays. He had his share of applause from the king and from the public; but the satire in his comedies made him many enemies, and he was the object of the most venomous attacks and the most impossible slanders. Nor did he find much solace at home; for he married unfortunately, and the unhappiness that followed increased the bitterness that public hostility had brought into his life. On February 17, 1673, while acting in "La Malade Imaginaire," the last of his masterpieces, he was seized with illness and died a few hours later.

The first of the greater works of Moliere was "Les Precieuses Ridicules," produced in 1659. In this brilliant piece Moliere lifted French comedy to a new level and gave it a new purpose – the satirizing of contemporary manners and affectations by frank portrayal and criticism. In the great plays that followed, "The School for Husbands" and "The School for Wives," "The Misanthrope" and "The Hypocrite" (Tartuffe), "The Miser" and "The Hypochondriac," "The Learned Ladies," "The Doctor in Spite of Himself," "The Citizen Turned Gentleman," and many others, he exposed mercilessly one after another the vices and foibles of the day.

His characteristic qualities are nowhere better exhibited than in "Tartuffe." Compared with such characterization as Shakespeare's, Moliere's method of portraying life may seem to be lacking in complexity; but it is precisely the simplicity with which creations like Tartuffe embody the weakness or vice they represent that has given them their place as universally recognized types of human nature.

CHARACTERS

MADAME PERNELLE, mother of Orgon

ORGON, husband of Elmire

ELMIRE, wife of Orgon

DAMIS, son of Orgon

MARIANE, daughter of Orgon, in love with Valere

CLEANTE, brother-in-law of Orgon

TARTUFFE, a hypocrite

DORINE, Mariane's maid

M. LOYAL, a bailiff

A Police Officer

FLIPOTTE, Madame Pernelle's servant

The Scene is at Paris

ACT I

SCENE I  MADAME PERNELLE and FLIPOTTE, her servant; ELMIRE, MARIANE, CLEANTE,DAMIS, DORINEMADAME PERNELLE  Come, come, Flipotte, and let me get away.ELMIRE  You hurry so, I hardly can attend you.MADAME PERNELLE  Then don't, my daughter-in law. Stay where you are.  I can dispense with your polite attentions.ELMIRE  We're only paying what is due you, mother.  Why must you go away in such a hurry?MADAME PERNELLE  Because I can't endure your carryings-on,  And no one takes the slightest pains to please me.  I leave your house, I tell you, quite disgusted;  You do the opposite of my instructions;  You've no respect for anything; each one  Must have his say; it's perfect pandemonium.DORINE  If …MADAME PERNELLE  You're a servant wench, my girl, and much  Too full of gab, and too impertinent  And free with your advice on all occasions.DAMIS  But …MADAME PERNELLE  You're a fool, my boy – f, o, o, l  Just spells your name. Let grandma tell you that  I've said a hundred times to my poor son,  Your father, that you'd never come to good  Or give him anything but plague and torment.MARIANE  I think …MADAME PERNELLE  O dearie me, his little sister!  You're all demureness, butter wouldn't melt  In your mouth, one would think to look at you.  Still waters, though, they say … you know the proverb;  And I don't like your doings on the sly.ELMIRE  But, mother …MADAME PERNELLE  Daughter, by your leave, your conduct  In everything is altogether wrong;  You ought to set a good example for 'em;  Their dear departed mother did much better.  You are extravagant; and it offends me,  To see you always decked out like a princess.  A woman who would please her husband's eyes  Alone, wants no such wealth of fineries.CLEANTE  But, madam, after all …MADAME PERNELLE  Sir, as for you,  The lady's brother, I esteem you highly,  Love and respect you. But, sir, all the same,  If I were in my son's, her husband's, place,  I'd urgently entreat you not to come  Within our doors. You preach a way of living  That decent people cannot tolerate.  I'm rather frank with you; but that's my way —  I don't mince matters, when I mean a thing.DAMIS  Mr. Tartuffe, your friend, is mighty lucky …MADAME PERNELLE  He is a holy man, and must be heeded;  I can't endure, with any show of patience,  To hear a scatterbrains like you attack him.DAMIS  What! Shall I let a bigot criticaster  Come and usurp a tyrant's power here?  And shall we never dare amuse ourselves  Till this fine gentleman deigns to consent?DORINE  If we must hark to him, and heed his maxims,  There's not a thing we do but what's a crime;  He censures everything, this zealous carper.MADAME PERNELLE  And all he censures is well censured, too.  He wants to guide you on the way to heaven;  My son should train you all to love him well.DAMIS  No, madam, look you, nothing – not my father  Nor anything – can make me tolerate him.  I should belie my feelings not to say so.  His actions rouse my wrath at every turn;  And I foresee that there must come of it  An open rupture with this sneaking scoundrel.DORINE  Besides, 'tis downright scandalous to see  This unknown upstart master of the house —  This vagabond, who hadn't, when he came,  Shoes to his feet, or clothing worth six farthings,  And who so far forgets his place, as now  To censure everything, and rule the roost!MADAME PERNELLE  Eh! Mercy sakes alive! Things would go better  If all were governed by his pious orders.DORINE  He passes for a saint in your opinion.  In fact, he's nothing but a hypocrite.MADAME PERNELLE  Just listen to her tongue!DORINE  I wouldn't trust him,  Nor yet his Lawrence, without bonds and surety.MADAME PERNELLE  I don't know what the servant's character  May be; but I can guarantee the master  A holy man. You hate him and reject him  Because he tells home truths to all of you.  'Tis sin alone that moves his heart to anger,  And heaven's interest is his only motive.DORINE  Of course. But why, especially of late,  Can he let nobody come near the house?  Is heaven offended at a civil call  That he should make so great a fuss about it?  I'll tell you, if you like, just what I think;  (Pointing to Elmire)  Upon my word, he's jealous of our mistress.MADAME PERNELLE  You hold your tongue, and think what you are saying.  He's not alone in censuring these visits;  The turmoil that attends your sort of people,  Their carriages forever at the door,  And all their noisy footmen, flocked together,  Annoy the neighbourhood, and raise a scandal.  I'd gladly think there's nothing really wrong;  But it makes talk; and that's not as it should be.CLEANTE  Eh! madam, can you hope to keep folk's tongues  From wagging? It would be a grievous thing  If, for the fear of idle talk about us,  We had to sacrifice our friends. No, no;  Even if we could bring ourselves to do it,  Think you that everyone would then be silenced?  Against backbiting there is no defence  So let us try to live in innocence,  To silly tattle pay no heed at all,  And leave the gossips free to vent their gall.DORINE  Our neighbour Daphne, and her little husband,  Must be the ones who slander us, I'm thinking.  Those whose own conduct's most ridiculous,  Are always quickest to speak ill of others;  They never fail to seize at once upon  The slightest hint of any love affair,  And spread the news of it with glee, and give it  The character they'd have the world believe in.  By others' actions, painted in their colours,  They hope to justify their own; they think,  In the false hope of some resemblance, either  To make their own intrigues seem innocent,  Or else to make their neighbours share the blame  Which they are loaded with by everybody.MADAME PERNELLE  These arguments are nothing to the purpose.  Orante, we all know, lives a perfect life;  Her thoughts are all of heaven; and I have heard  That she condemns the company you keep.DORINE  O admirable pattern! Virtuous dame!  She lives the model of austerity;  But age has brought this piety upon her,  And she's a prude, now she can't help herself.  As long as she could capture men's attentions  She made the most of her advantages;  But, now she sees her beauty vanishing,  She wants to leave the world, that's leaving her,  And in the specious veil of haughty virtue  She'd hide the weakness of her worn-out charms.  That is the way with all your old coquettes;  They find it hard to see their lovers leave 'em;  And thus abandoned, their forlorn estate  Can find no occupation but a prude's.  These pious dames, in their austerity,  Must carp at everything, and pardon nothing.  They loudly blame their neighbours' way of living,  Not for religion's sake, but out of envy,  Because they can't endure to see another  Enjoy the pleasures age has weaned them from.  MADAME PERNELLE (to Elmire)  There! That's the kind of rigmarole to please you,  Daughter-in-law. One never has a chance  To get a word in edgewise, at your house,  Because this lady holds the floor all day;  But none the less, I mean to have my say, too.  I tell you that my son did nothing wiser  In all his life, than take this godly man  Into his household; heaven sent him here,  In your great need, to make you all repent;  For your salvation, you must hearken to him;  He censures nothing but deserves his censure.  These visits, these assemblies, and these balls,  Are all inventions of the evil spirit.  You never hear a word of godliness  At them – but idle cackle, nonsense, flimflam.  Our neighbour often comes in for a share,  The talk flies fast, and scandal fills the air;  It makes a sober person's head go round,  At these assemblies, just to hear the sound  Of so much gab, with not a word to say;  And as a learned man remarked one day  Most aptly, 'tis the Tower of Babylon,  Where all, beyond all limit, babble on.  And just to tell you how this point came in …  (To Cleante)  So! Now the gentlemen must snicker, must he?  Go find fools like yourself to make you laugh  And don't …  (To Elmire)  Daughter, good-bye; not one word more.  As for this house, I leave the half unsaid;  But I shan't soon set foot in it again,  (Cuffing Flipotte)  Come, you! What makes you dream and stand agape,  Hussy! I'll warm your ears in proper shape!  March, trollop, march!SCENE IICLEANTE, DORINECLEANTE  I won't escort her down,  For fear she might fall foul of me again;  The good old lady …DORINE  Bless us! What a pity  She shouldn't hear the way you speak of her!  She'd surely tell you you're too "good" by half,  And that she's not so "old" as all that, neither!CLEANTE  How she got angry with us all for nothing!  And how she seems possessed with her Tartuffe!DORINE  Her case is nothing, though, beside her son's!  To see him, you would say he's ten times worse!  His conduct in our late unpleasantness 1  Had won him much esteem, and proved his courage  In service of his king; but now he's like  A man besotted, since he's been so taken  With this Tartuffe. He calls him brother, loves him  A hundred times as much as mother, son,  Daughter, and wife. He tells him all his secrets  And lets him guide his acts, and rule his conscience.  He fondles and embraces him; a sweetheart  Could not, I think, be loved more tenderly;  At table he must have the seat of honour,  While with delight our master sees him eat  As much as six men could; we must give up  The choicest tidbits to him; if he belches,  ('tis a servant speaking)2  Master exclaims: "God bless you!" – Oh, he dotes  Upon him! he's his universe, his hero;  He's lost in constant admiration, quotes him  On all occasions, takes his trifling acts  For wonders, and his words for oracles.  The fellow knows his dupe, and makes the most on't,  He fools him with a hundred masks of virtue,  Gets money from him all the time by canting,  And takes upon himself to carp at us.  Even his silly coxcomb of a lackey  Makes it his business to instruct us too;  He comes with rolling eyes to preach at us,  And throws away our ribbons, rouge, and patches.  The wretch, the other day, tore up a kerchief  That he had found, pressed in the Golden Legend,  Calling it a horrid crime for us to mingle  The devil's finery with holy things.SCENE IIIELMIRE, MARIANE, DAMIS, CLEANTE, DORINE  ELMIRE (to Cleante)  You're very lucky to have missed the speech  She gave us at the door. I see my husband  Is home again. He hasn't seen me yet,  So I'll go up and wait till he comes in.CLEANTE  And I, to save time, will await him here;  I'll merely say good-morning, and be gone.SCENE IVCLEANTE, DAMIS, DORINEDAMIS  I wish you'd say a word to him about  My sister's marriage; I suspect Tartuffe  Opposes it, and puts my father up  To all these wretched shifts. You know, besides,  How nearly I'm concerned in it myself;  If love unites my sister and Valere,  I love his sister too; and if this marriage  Were to …DORINE  He's coming.SCENE VORGON, CLEANTE, DORINEORGON  Ah! Good morning, brother.CLEANTE  I was just going, but am glad to greet you.  Things are not far advanced yet, in the country?ORGON  Dorine …  (To Cleante)  Just wait a bit, please, brother-in-law.  Let me allay my first anxiety  By asking news about the family.  (To Dorine)  Has everything gone well these last two days?  What's happening? And how is everybody?DORINE  Madam had fever, and a splitting headache  Day before yesterday, all day and evening.ORGON  And how about Tartuffe?DORINE  Tartuffe? He's well;  He's mighty well; stout, fat, fair, rosy-lipped.ORGON  Poor man!DORINE  At evening she had nausea  And couldn't touch a single thing for supper,  Her headache still was so severe.ORGON  And how  About Tartuffe?DORINE  He supped alone, before her,  And unctuously ate up two partridges,  As well as half a leg o' mutton, deviled.ORGON  Poor man!DORINE  All night she couldn't get a wink  Of sleep, the fever racked her so; and we  Had to sit up with her till daylight.ORGON  How  About Tartuffe?DORINE  Gently inclined to slumber,  He left the table, went into his room,  Got himself straight into a good warm bed,  And slept quite undisturbed until next morning.ORGON  Poor man!DORINE  At last she let us all persuade her,  And got up courage to be bled; and then  She was relieved at once.ORGON  And how about  Tartuffe?DORINE  He plucked up courage properly,  Bravely entrenched his soul against all evils,  And to replace the blood that she had lost,  He drank at breakfast four huge draughts of wine.ORGON  Poor man!DORINE  So now they both are doing well;  And I'll go straightway and inform my mistress  How pleased you are at her recovery.SCENE VIORGON, CLEANTECLEANTE  Brother, she ridicules you to your face;  And I, though I don't want to make you angry,  Must tell you candidly that she's quite right.  Was such infatuation ever heard of?  And can a man to-day have charms to make you  Forget all else, relieve his poverty,  Give him a home, and then … ?ORGON  Stop there, good brother,  You do not know the man you're speaking of.CLEANTE  Since you will have it so, I do not know him;  But after all, to tell what sort of man  He is …ORGON  Dear brother, you'd be charmed to know him;  Your raptures over him would have no end.  He is a man … who … ah! … in fact …a man  Whoever does his will, knows perfect peace,  And counts the whole world else, as so much dung.  His converse has transformed me quite; he weans  My heart from every friendship, teaches me  To have no love for anything on earth;  And I could see my brother, children, mother,  And wife, all die, and never care – a snap.CLEANTE  Your feelings are humane, I must say, brother!ORGON  Ah! If you'd seen him, as I saw him first,  You would have loved him just as much as I.  He came to church each day, with contrite mien,  Kneeled, on both knees, right opposite my place,  And drew the eyes of all the congregation,  To watch the fervour of his prayers to heaven;  With deep-drawn sighs and great ejaculations,  He humbly kissed the earth at every moment;  And when I left the church, he ran before me  To give me holy water at the door.  I learned his poverty, and who he was,  By questioning his servant, who is like him,  And gave him gifts; but in his modesty  He always wanted to return a part.  "It is too much," he'd say, "too much by half;  I am not worthy of your pity." Then,  When I refused to take it back, he'd go,  Before my eyes, and give it to the poor.  At length heaven bade me take him to my home,  And since that day, all seems to prosper here.  He censures everything, and for my sake  He even takes great interest in my wife;  He lets me know who ogles her, and seems  Six times as jealous as I am myself.  You'd not believe how far his zeal can go:  He calls himself a sinner just for trifles;  The merest nothing is enough to shock him;  So much so, that the other day I heard him  Accuse himself for having, while at prayer,  In too much anger caught and killed a flea.CLEANTE  Zounds, brother, you are mad, I think! Or else  You're making sport of me, with such a speech.  What are you driving at with all this nonsense … ?ORGON  Brother, your language smacks of atheism;  And I suspect your soul's a little tainted  Therewith. I've preached to you a score of times  That you'll draw down some judgment on your head.CLEANTE  That is the usual strain of all your kind;  They must have every one as blind as they.  They call you atheist if you have good eyes;  And if you don't adore their vain grimaces,  You've neither faith nor care for sacred things.  No, no; such talk can't frighten me; I know  What I am saying; heaven sees my heart.  We're not the dupes of all your canting mummers;  There are false heroes – and false devotees;  And as true heroes never are the ones  Who make much noise about their deeds of honour,  Just so true devotees, whom we should follow,  Are not the ones who make so much vain show.  What! Will you find no difference between  Hypocrisy and genuine devoutness?  And will you treat them both alike, and pay  The self-same honour both to masks and faces  Set artifice beside sincerity,  Confuse the semblance with reality,  Esteem a phantom like a living person,  And counterfeit as good as honest coin?  Men, for the most part, are strange creatures, truly!  You never find them keep the golden mean;  The limits of good sense, too narrow for them,  Must always be passed by, in each direction;  They often spoil the noblest things, because  They go too far, and push them to extremes.  I merely say this by the way, good brother.ORGON  You are the sole expounder of the doctrine;  Wisdom shall die with you, no doubt, good brother,  You are the only wise, the sole enlightened,  The oracle, the Cato, of our age.  All men, compared to you, are downright fools.CLEANTE  I'm not the sole expounder of the doctrine,  And wisdom shall not die with me, good brother.  But this I know, though it be all my knowledge,  That there's a difference 'twixt false and true.  And as I find no kind of hero more  To be admired than men of true religion,  Nothing more noble or more beautiful  Than is the holy zeal of true devoutness;  Just so I think there's naught more odious  Than whited sepulchres of outward unction,  Those barefaced charlatans, those hireling zealots,  Whose sacrilegious, treacherous pretence  Deceives at will, and with impunity  Makes mockery of all that men hold sacred;  Men who, enslaved to selfish interests,  Make trade and merchandise of godliness,  And try to purchase influence and office  With false eye-rollings and affected raptures;  Those men, I say, who with uncommon zeal  Seek their own fortunes on the road to heaven;  Who, skilled in prayer, have always much to ask,  And live at court to preach retirement;  Who reconcile religion with their vices,  Are quick to anger, vengeful, faithless, tricky,  And, to destroy a man, will have the boldness  To call their private grudge the cause of heaven;  All the more dangerous, since in their anger  They use against us weapons men revere,  And since they make the world applaud their passion,  And seek to stab us with a sacred sword.  There are too many of this canting kind.  Still, the sincere are easy to distinguish;  And many splendid patterns may be found,  In our own time, before our very eyes  Look at Ariston, Periandre, Oronte,  Alcidamas, Clitandre, and Polydore;  No one denies their claim to true religion;  Yet they're no braggadocios of virtue,  They do not make insufferable display,  And their religion's human, tractable;  They are not always judging all our actions,  They'd think such judgment savoured of presumption;  And, leaving pride of words to other men,  'Tis by their deeds alone they censure ours.  Evil appearances find little credit  With them; they even incline to think the best  Of others. No caballers, no intriguers,  They mind the business of their own right living.  They don't attack a sinner tooth and nail,  For sin's the only object of their hatred;  Nor are they over-zealous to attempt  Far more in heaven's behalf than heaven would have 'em.  That is my kind of man, that is true living,  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  Valere has had the promise of your daughter.ORGON  Yes.CLEANTE  You had named the happy day.ORGON  'Tis 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?  Valere 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 Valere. 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.

ACT II

SCENE IORGON, MARIANEORGON  Now, Mariane.MARIANE  Yes, father?ORGON  Come; I'll tell you  A secret.MARIANE  Yes … What are you looking for?  ORGON (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 love 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 fairly 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 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 gentleman.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: