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Tartuffe or the Hypocrite
act iv   Scene III
Jean Baptiste Poquelin Moliere
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       ORGON, ELMIRE, MARIANE, CLEANTE, DORINE
       ORGON
       So ho! I'm glad to find you all together.
       (To Mariane)
       Here is the contract that shall make you happy,
       My dear. You know already what it means.
       MARIANE (on her knees before Orgon)
       Father, I beg you, in the name of Heaven
       That knows my grief, and by whate'er can move you,
       Relax a little your paternal rights,
       And free my love from this obedience!
       Oh, do not make me, by your harsh command,
       Complain to Heaven you ever were my father;
       Do not make wretched this poor life you gave me.
       If, crossing that fond hope which I had formed,
       You'll not permit me to belong to one
       Whom I have dared to love, at least, I beg you
       Upon my knees, oh, save me from the torment
       Of being possessed by one whom I abhor!
       And do not drive me to some desperate act
       By exercising all your rights upon me.
       ORGON (a little touched)
       Come, come, my heart, be firm! no human weakness!
       MARIANE
       I am not jealous of your love for him;
       Display it freely; give him your estate,
       And if that's not enough, add all of mine;
       I willingly agree, and give it up,
       If only you'll not give him me, your daughter;
       Oh, rather let a convent's rigid rule
       Wear out the wretched days that Heaven allots me.
       ORGON
       These girls are ninnies!--always turning nuns
       When fathers thwart their silly love-affairs.
       Get on your feet! The more you hate to have him,
       The more 'twill help you earn your soul's salvation.
       So, mortify your senses by this marriage,
       And don't vex me about it any more.
       DORINE
       But what . . . ?
       ORGON
       You hold your tongue, before your betters.
       Don't dare to say a single word, I tell you.
       CLEANTE
       If you will let me answer, and advise . . .
       ORGON
       Brother, I value your advice most highly;
       'Tis well thought out; no better can be had;
       But you'll allow me--not to follow it.
       ELMIRE (to her husband)
       I can't find words to cope with such a case;
       Your blindness makes me quite astounded at you.
       You are bewitched with him, to disbelieve
       The things we tell you happened here to-day.
       ORGON
       I am your humble servant, and can see
       Things, when they're plain as noses on folks' faces,
       I know you're partial to my rascal son,
       And didn't dare to disavow the trick
       He tried to play on this poor man; besides,
       You were too calm, to be believed; if that
       Had happened, you'd have been far more disturbed.
       ELMIRE
       And must our honour always rush to arms
       At the mere mention of illicit love?
       Or can we answer no attack upon it
       Except with blazing eyes and lips of scorn?
       For my part, I just laugh away such nonsense;
       I've no desire to make a loud to-do.
       Our virtue should, I think, be gentle-natured;
       Nor can I quite approve those savage prudes
       Whose honour arms itself with teeth and claws
       To tear men's eyes out at the slightest word.
       Heaven preserve me from that kind of honour!
       I like my virtue not to be a vixen,
       And I believe a quiet cold rebuff
       No less effective to repulse a lover.
       ORGON
       I know . . . and you can't throw me off the scent.
       ELMIRE
       Once more, I am astounded at your weakness;
       I wonder what your unbelief would answer,
       If I should let you see we've told the truth?
       ORGON
       See it?
       ELMIRE
       Yes.
       ORGON
       Nonsense.
       ELMIRE
       Come! If I should find
       A way to make you see it clear as day?
       ORGON
       All rubbish.
       ELMIRE
       What a man! But answer me.
       I'm not proposing now that you believe us;
       But let's suppose that here, from proper hiding,
       You should be made to see and hear all plainly;
       What would you say then, to your man of virtue?
       ORGON
       Why, then, I'd say . . . say nothing. It can't be.
       ELMIRE
       Your error has endured too long already,
       And quite too long you've branded me a liar.
       I must at once, for my own satisfaction,
       Make you a witness of the things we've told you.
       ORGON
       Amen! I take you at your word. We'll see
       What tricks you have, and how you'll keep your promise.
       ELMIRE (to Dorine)
       Send him to me.
       DORINE (to Elmire)
       The man's a crafty codger,
       Perhaps you'll find it difficult to catch him.
       ELMIRE (to Dorine)
       Oh no! A lover's never hard to cheat,
       And self-conceit leads straight to self-deceit.
       Bid him come down to me.
       (To Cleante and Mariane)
       And you, withdraw.
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Introductory Note
Characters
act i
   Scene I
   Scene II
   Scene III
   Scene IV
   Scene V
   Scene VI
act ii
   Scene I
   Scene II
   Scene III
   Scene IV
act iii
   Scene I
   Scene II
   Scene III
   Scene IV
   Scene V
   Scene VI
   Scene VII
act iv
   Scene I
   Scene II
   Scene III
   Scene IV
   Scene V
   Scene VI
   Scene VII
   Scene VIII
act v
   Scene I
   Scene II
   Scene III
   Scene IV
   Scene V
   Scene VI
   Scene VII
   Scene VIII