TRA N SLA TE D B Y KATHARINE P RE S COTT W O RM ELEY

TARTUFFE

LE S P R ECI E US E S R I D I CULE S

GE OR GE DA ND I N

V OLUM E TWO

B O S T O N Co rz /zf 189 py g , 4,

B Y R O B ERTS B ROTHE R S C O NT E NT S

P A GI I NTRODUCTIO N

- A . ai n Criti c i sm by C . S t e Be uve

PREFA CE TO TA RTUFFE

FI R ST PETITIO N TO THE KING

SECO N D PETITION TO THE KIN G .

THIRD PETITION To THE KIN G

TA RTUFFE

PREFA CE TO LE S PRECIEUSES RIDICULES

L E S PRECIEUSES RIDICU LES

GEORGE D A ND I N

LIS T OF ILLUS TRATIONS

PA GE OW TE LL M E IF TH E S ONG I S To YOUR TA S TE Frontispiece R d x Le P r ci us s i icules S c . . s é e e ,

” A RTUE E E ! OH HE I S E ! V nette on Ti tle , W LL ig

T t ff A c t I . . . ar u e, , Sc v

HE HOUS E E A ND I A ! E Y OU ! O IT 148 IS MIN , WILL M N W

T t ff A ct IV . S c . VII . ar u e , ,

T M E RE P E A T AN IMP ROM P TU I MA DE YE S TE RDA Y 208

Les P ré c ieuses R idicules S c . , x

HA T ! MY WIFE I S N OT MY WIFE ?

or D d n A . So. iv . Ge ge an i , c t I ,

I NT RODU CT I ON

l R T I A I TE - B E VE C I I C SM BY C . . SA N U

P S L es A CAL , when he wrote Provinciales,

th inkin was g, before all else , of outraged

I t whic h Christian morality . was that he

re- desired to avenge and to establish , at the

n r cost and to the co fusion of its cor upters . But by addressi ng the world in the tone of the world he obtained a result he little looked for ; h e hastened the establishment of What I call the morality of honest men ; which is not, strictly speaking , Christian morality, although

ori in the latter counts for much in the g of it, for in What it has of best it may be sa id to be

i u tili z ed Chr stianity rationalized, or rather, ; that is , turned into a condition of useful social practice .

1 ’ S elected and abridg ed from Saint e-B eu ve s Po rt ” t v v Hac h tt t ie o al ch a ers x . and x i . e e e C R y , p , I INTRODUCTI ON

Should this new aspect of the public mind

n ? S and habits be co sidered progress ocially, it certainly is ; but if we speak of the inner

e b ing , and more profoundly, it may be doubtful . Pascal says : Th e inventions of men go on

n advanci g from age to age , but the goodness and the malign ancy of the world in general remain the same That is an essential cor recti ve which I should like to see inscribed at the head of all great theories of progress . N evertheless , the morality of the honest

man, left to itself in ordinary times, judges l sound y, and is found of its own will,

law wherever possible , on the side of eternal . T his morality, which is that of the sober medium of society, will be found in a vague and tentative form at various periods of our U history . nder the burgher form it upheld

X I I . Charles V . and Louis it acquired con sistency more especially under Henri I V and in the reign of Louis X I V . it asked no better than to gather itself together once more after the m F iserable disorders and scandals of the ronde . I ts power is never better seen than whe n it

a deals with false piety , false mor lity , which,

d e behin the mask of aust rity, is corrupt, c alculating, and covetous . I NTRODUCTI ON 9

Two two las - men , writers, under the t named

n reig , had the courage and the honor to protest in the name of this morality of honest men against the hypocrisies of false , jesuitical piety . Moliere and L a Bruyere dared to do this ; both

own took up and used in their manner, and with

own their genius , the weapons which Pascal

h e had been the first to invent . T author of

“ ' Tartufie nu h re and the painter of O p were,

e su ccessors i and in that resp ct, the direct heirs “ ” e of Pascal and his Provinciales . Moli re divined and denounced the evil almost before it was in sight . He seems, indeed , to have S seen the Hypocrite , advancing lowly, at the most splendid period of the great reign, antici

’ pating the monarch s old age , gloating over him

already as a prey, and mysteriously certain of

his power . e 1658 Moli re came to Paris in , and in the following year opened his career of glory with

L es é R Pr cieuses idicules . Without foreseeing

it, he brought strong help to Pascal , who little knew in What way and from what quarter an “ es P ré auxiliary was approaching . By L ” ci eu ses Moliere gave a deathblow to th e false “ taste in Clélie ; he saw it revive in other

m a aI n for s, but never g in the one he thus laid 10 INTRODUCTION

o w Th e e l . thunder of applause which greet d “ L es Précieuses swept away for a time all mists and cleared the literary horizon . Courage , e ” Moli re ! this is true comedy, said an old man in the audience .

I n 1664 T f n w artuf e, such as we o have it, was almost finished . Three acts were played before the king at Versailles , and the whole pi ece was performed for the Prince de Condé t at R aincy . But before ouching slightly on the “ T f ” comedy of artuf e , let us turn to the man and to the genius in its author .

e n n a t u re i ts e and Moli re , like Montaig e , is tf; I may add, speaking from our present point of

View, he stands for the morality of honest men . I But if he is, like Montaigne, nature itself, shall venture to say that his nature is richer and,

. N above all , more generous ature in him is not, as it is in Montaigne , in a frequent con dition of sceptical nonchalance , of malicious and rather irritating shrewdness , vigorous, no doubt, but with a vigor that amuses and dissipates itself in t rifles ; gifted with genius

and invention, but chiefly in the details of

x e thought and e pression . Moli re renders nature ,

but nature more generous , broader, more frank ;

nature in open action , not shut within , strong INTRODUCTI ON 11

w in thought, ardent in contemplation but ithout petty or puerile curiosity . We feel at every step a fruitful and creative force, which knows itself and its every faculty , yet without limiting or regulating itself by theory , a force which sees

s all faults and contradictions and weaknes es, but

n is capable , in spite of that, of falli g into them ; fi a thing that seems to me much ner, certainly

- - richer, than the care taking self interest which

te succeeds in never making a false s p . Moliere appears to me to represent nature with as thorough an acceptance and a more

e wh o sov reign power than Montaigne , analyzed it too closely . He seems to me to hold that office and fulfil that idea as much as Shake

e th e sp are , the greatest (in poetic order) of S purely natural men . hakespeare , as a dramatic e writer, has , far more than Moli re , the tragic and pathetic chords ; which the latter often sought without being able to grasp them power

’

. e fully But, if we add to Moli re s talent his soul , we shall find him supplied with that pathetic inner being, that sad , grave bitterness S that we see in hakespeare . Writer of comedy as he was, his nature was serious rather than sportive . Sadness lay at his heart ; also warmth of feeling . Laughing at humanity as he did, 12 INTRODUCTI ON — he loved humanity which is perhaps an in consistency, but one that is nobly natural . He has, too, his moments of extravagance and devotion . He seems to me, in all these traits and others, to be the complete expression of what I have called th e morality of honest men . That morality was the sap within him ; it

’ caused him to create his Tartufie through indignation , just as, in the world, it makes the play a fresh triumph at all recurring periods of hypocrisy . e Yes, Moli re was sad ; more so than Pascal ,

n whom we picture to ourselves as mela choly .

He was more truly melancholy at heart, with far less compensation . He had measured and judged, on all sides and in all directions, the things of this life , honors, birth, quality, wealth , marriage , customs ; he knew the other l side of that fine tapestry, the hol owness of

the planks on which he trod . Young , he had yielded, irresistibly, to the double tendency

which led him to a single enthusiasm, the

theatre , and love . He asked for nothing so much as to bind his heart to some beloved

a object on the st ge where his genius reigned .

But love only enticed, insulted, wronged him,

‘ a su fi r and m de him e . His talent alone was I NTRODUCTI ON 13

— was faithful to him, and his fame but what ? that to him the happiness he wanted fled him . S o, more and more , he gave himself up, by

wa predilection, by necessity, by yof consolation, to that talent, that genius, which at each bound only doubled its resources and its vigor . But when all around him, court, society, people , town, rang with the laughter and the applause that he provoked, he , the Contemplator, amid the lively evil he turned to ridicule and gayety,

saw he , like some sad solitary, the true evil to

I t was its full extent . there , behind him, in those dark shadows of his own being where

S h o habitually he dwelt . ometimes ( ark !) ab ve that frank and joyous merri ment echoing through the house, a piercing laugh is heard, a note that

c o nvul rises high above the key, sharp, bitter,

’ - e sive , Moli re s own laugh, in which the man

w A h ! e within him as revealed . who knew bett r than he the grandeur and the nothingness of man ; the weakness and the laughable relapses into which the heart is flung by passions well

tru m h ant ? known to us, but always p Who e knew better than he , Moli re , what human

e s nature , humanity, is when r duced to it elf alone ? I ought to ask pardon for this too serious 14 I NTRODUCTION

' I Tartufie preface, which give to , though it seems to me as applicable to the Misanthrope ” as to the I mpostor .

I n 1664 e Moli re had, as we have said,

' finished his comedy of Tartufl e very nearly

now T as we have it . hree acts were played during the fetes of that year at Versailles ; also

- Th e at Villers Cotterets, before MONSIEUR .

é s Prince de Cond , the protector of all fearles i ness of m nd, ordered the whole comedy to be R played before him at aincy . But the same men who had compelled the burning of Pascal ’s Provinciales now prevented the represen tation of Tartuffe in public ; and the matter was I . X . held in abeyance for a long time Louis V ,

was then in the first flush of his mistresses , by no means devout ; but already he showed that strong disposition to make others so which became such a marked trait of his old age . e Moli re, meanwhile, whose stage and whose genius were alike unable to lie fallow , produced other works ; and in the Festin de pierre ( performed in 1665) he revenged himself on the cabal which still suppressed Tartuffe by

’ n h T e D o Juan s tirade in the fift act . h atheist at bay tells S ganarelle that he shall pretend to T a be pious . here is no longer any sh me I NTRODUCTION 15

now in that , he says . Hypocrisy is a modish h . T e vice , and modish vices pass for virtue character of a godly man is the best of all parts to play ; in these days the profession of hypo ” T t . cri e has wonderful advantages his attack, with other audacious witticisms in the Festin raised a further outcry , and seemed to justify the fury of the cabal ; violent pamphlets were pu b lish ed e n ow against Moli re , who found he had to do with an intrenched camp of Jesuits . N evertheless , the repute of the diverting poet i rose h gher and higher, and his serious glory and fame were spread abroad ; for by this time he had written and performed Th e Misan ” Th e - thrope . death of the queen mother re moved one great support of the cabal at court .

X I . Counting on the personal favor of Louis V , and makin g the most of a sort of verbal per

a e mission he had obt ined, Moli re risked the 1667 production of his comedy in August, , during the deserted Parisian summer, while the king was in camp before Lille . He had changed the title ; th e play was n ow called

' Th e I and Tartufl e b mpostor, Monsieur ecame

anu l h e E Monsieur P p . ven under this guise it had but on e representation ; the president of th e Parliament thought it his duty to prevent a 16 I NTRODUCTI ON second until a definite order had be en obtained

m e two fro the king . Moli re sent of his actors to the camp at Lille with a petition, which has come down to us ; the king, however, maintained

Th e ad the suspension . various petitions dressed by Moliere to the king on the subje c t T ff i of artu e are wr tten in excellent prose , and are very gay and lively .

w wa e Ho ever, continuing to play his y, Moli re won more and more upon the mind of Louis

X I . V , who remained his firm friend through life , and in truth seems to have deified him self amid the genius and the ambition that

’ ” L Am h itr on surrounded him . After p y ,

’ ” ” L A vare after , after George Dandin, after

such laughter, what could be refused to the

' ? Tartu fl e purveyor of these royal pleasures ,

F u 5 resuscitated, was played in Paris ebr ary ,

16 9 - 6 , and forty four consecutive representations

proved its triumph . I am not concerned n ow to write an essay on T f I it artuf e , and shall only run rapidly over , making a few reflections here and there which

touch upon the subject I have in hand .

' Tartufl e , such as Madame Pernelle and the

i be fam ly present him, appears at first sight to

s it omewhat uncompromising . He is not,

18 I NTRODUCTION

by heart, the very essence and marrow of com A promising casuistry . moment earlier, when he accepted from the father the property of T f which the son was disinherited, artuf e had put in practice his grand method, namely, of keeping in view the intention ; which simply consists in holding up as the reason of his “ I f I evil actions some permissible object . ” “ resolved, he says, to receive this donation from his father, it was, to tell the truth , because I feared the property might fall into ” evil hands . I t is undoubtedly true that (even before R R E Pascal) egnier, abelais , Henri stienne , and the whole sixteenth century , also the ” - Middle ages and the authors of the fabliaux, and the troubadours of the R oman de R enart had depicted and scorned a hypocrite ; but the particular form of hypocrisy in the seventeenth

a century , that of Compromising C suistry , Jes u itism in short, discerned and denounced by

was an d Pascal , caught up developed to its highest point by Moliere in the character of

Tartuffe .

I n F Moliere , more than in any other rench dramatist, the stage, which he made so pro fou ndl y true , is not in the least, as to its de INTRODUCTI ON 19

tails, an analyzed copy nor an imitation of literal

I t n and surrounding appearances . is an origi al

c t e reprodu tion , a crea ion , a world . Moli re is in no sense a painter of portraits ; he is a painter

n of pictures ; or rather, a producer of livi g

f suffi beings, who are su ficiently themselves, ci en tl y sure of their own being, not to step perpetually in their own footsteps or measure their conduct by any line of strict reality . E w ssentially human in their nature , they follo no other la w (as to detail and procedure) than that of the glowing inspiration of pure comedy . T hey are not formalists ; wanting their swing, they are not slaves to a petty rule of life . Whatever they take from the real that is most

c u a curately tr e and based on fact, never rigidly incases them , but lends itself freely to their m own for s, and indeed transforms itself into

them . I n order to give to all of them their full play M e and relief, oli re is not afraid of writing his

characters with a free hand . His genius is,

above all else , dramatic . Dorine , who plays T f so lively and so essential a part in artuf e ,

- who is , in fact, its merry making sprite, per

sonifies th e verv e to my mind, , the glow, what I shall dare to call the fl eshiness of his muse ; 20 INTRODUCTI ON

R somewhat resembling the rosy sirens of ubens,

. rovok ever dear to that painter Dorine , so p ing, so merry, so nimble of speech, may well l e ’ serve as the type of Mo i re s comic muse, in all

o wn i that is especially its , nvincible , and wholly detached from more reflective observation, the t I ype of that comic humor, mean, in its purest

fl o w , which assailed him, diverted him, dis tracted him (like his old servant- woman) in his saddest hours ; making lively uproar across the surface of his habitual melancholy , the depths of which were never stirred . Would that a genius of the same race as Moliere had come among us to people in the

wa same yanother sphere , that of the pathetic T F and the ideal . hen indeed would rench poesy grand French poesy have been T f ” created . artuf e , however, brought our comedy to the highest point it can ever attain . Th e strength of its great fou ndation leaves no chance for the carping criticism of purists .

Th e law public voice makes .

But if it triumphed, as it did, by the power th e of its genius, immortal play had, even in the dawn of its glory , many outrages to endure .

I t n h h ad was not bur ed by the angman, but it to struggle against other efforts at destruction ; INTRODUCTION 21

fulminations, too, from revered and reverend

B ou rdalou e voices . from his pulpit, Bossuet in his pamphlet, cried out in the name of out

Th e raged piety . worthy Adrien Baillet, librarian of the Parliament and a friend of “ anseni sts the J , begins an article on J B .

Poquelin, Parisian, Dead as a Comedian thus Monsieur Moliere is one of the most danger ous enemies which this Age and the World have roused against the Church of Jesus Christ .

H B ou rdalou e ERE is the language of , Bos

S - suet, and others to whom ainte Beuve, in the “ above Criticism refers : B ou rdalou e winds up his sermon against Tartuffe by calling it a damnable i n ven tion to humiliate godly men , to bring them under suspicion, and to deprive them of the liberty of declaring themselves openly in favor of virtue . Bossuet writes : Will you dare support in the sight of Heaven plays in which virtue and ? piety are held up to ridicule Posterity may ,

- perhaps, know the end of this poet comedian, wh o died while acting, and passed from the frivolity of the stage to the judgment -seat of 22 INTRODUCTI ON

‘ for Him who said, Woe to him who laughs, he shall weep .

Th e S - e é rector of aint Barth lemy, the Abb “ B e o oulles, calls Moli re a dem n clothed in

- flesh, dressed as a man ; a free thinker , an ” impious being, deserving to be publicly burned . “ e T f Moli re himself is a finished artuf e , a true

: I f hypocrite the purpose of the comedian is,

’ as he says it is, to amend men s lives by amus e ’ ing them, Moli re s purpose is to ruin their h — souls eternally by making them laug , like those serpents whose deathly fangs shed a smile ” on the faces of those they wound .

Th e H arla archbishop of Paris, y de Champ vallou (the same who refused Christian burial e ’ Fe to Moli re s remains), Whom nelon , arch f o X I . bishop Cambrai , in a letter to Louis V ,

calls a corrupt archbishop , scandalous , incor

ri ible g , false , malignant, tricky, the enemy of ” 11 all virtue , issued under date of August ,

1667 the following mandate : Having received information from our vicar that on the fifth of this month was represented h at one of the theatres of t is city, under the

Th e I new name of mpostor, a very danger

ous comedy , which is all the more capable

of injuring religion because , under pretence of INTRODUCTI ON 23

n condemning hypocrisy and false devotio , it opens th e way to attack those wh o profess the most solid piety, and exposes them to the jeers and the incessant calumnies of free- thinkers ; therefore , in order to arrest the course of so great an evil , which may seduce weak minds and turn them from the paths of virtue , our said vicar advises that we forbid all persons in our diocese to represent the said comedy , under

or whatever name it appear, or to read it, hear it recited either in public or in private , under

etc . pain of excommunication , R e eading Moli re in the present day , it seems to us well- nigh impossible that these things were ever said of him . But they are evidence

: of a vital fact, namely that while the funda mental truths of the human soul in its relations both to life and to the Unseen remain forever d unchange , the ideas of the human mind in con

h o c nection with such words as piety , impiety , yp h ri s . y, immorality, etc , c ange so completely as to teach the world a lesson of tolerance . But these violent opinions were not without

’ e Fén e their antidote , even in Moli re s time . lon openly took h i s side and applauded him for “ having exposed one of the most dangerous

A s vices against true religion . for the public, 24 I NTRODUCTION it had but one Opinion ; its applause and its ‘ To i da admiration never slackened . th s y, ” Tartuffe is played as an ever-living protest

- against an ever present vice . What greater testimony can be offered to the profoundly human truths contained in this work ? “ I t was after the first performance of L es P é R e r cieuses idicules that Moli re , enlightened

own by its success, came to a sense of his power and cried out : I n eed no longer study Plautus

’ M enan der s and Terence , or sift fragments ; I ” T have only to study the world . his gem of comedy was first played on the i 8th of Novem

Th e ber, title of the play has so passed E if into the nglish language that, even it were possible to give a translation of it (which it is not), it would be a pity to change the familiar name . But the exact meaning of the word P réci eu s e é should be given, and here is what Littr says of “ éc u se it : P r ie , in the favorable sense, is a woman wh o devotes herself to the pleasures of

n - wh o the i tellect , and combines refinement of

I n language with refinement of manners .

P rec eu s e the unfavorable sense of the word, e

1 Balz ac was mistaken wh en h e sai d in his prefa ce r t l at ont ellie The i n i ent h e th at it was fi s p ayed M p r . c d relat es in connection with it happened in Pari s .

26 I NTRODUCTI ON

' n afl ectation thi gs ; it was always excess, , the false

n thing injuri g the real thing , that he pursued . No one will say that he Opposed the advance ment of women in face of the last words he uttered on the subject at the close of his life “ I agree that a woman should be enlightened in all things ; but I do not wish her to have an offensive desi re to make herself learned merely I to seem learned . would rather that some times she should pretend ignorance o f the things I i she knows . like her to h de her studies and have knowledge without wishing every one to ” 1 know of it . “ George Dandin was first played before I u X V . féte Lo is , on the occasion of a at Ver 18 1668 sailles , given July , to celebrate the taking of Franche - Comté and the treaty of A i x

- t la Chapelle . I s success was marked ; and al though i t is the only play in which Moliere has put an unfaithful wife upon the stage , no one was scandalized, or even pretended to be so ; probably because , as one of his commentators has said, he took care not to render Angelique interesting ; her character is such that she leaves the scene with the contempt and dislike of the audience . 1 mm e es nt A ct I . es cen 3 . F Sava , , S e T A R T U FFE

Qt umehg

I N F I V E A C TS

PR E FACE TO TART U FFE

B Y MOLIERE

HE RE is a comedy about which much noise has been made ; which was persecuted for years, while the persons it ridicules proved that they were much stronger in France than those I had

Th e hitherto laughed at . marquises, the learned women , the luckless husbands, and the doctors l had meek y borne their representation ; in fact , they made believe to be amused , with the rest of the world , by the portraits made of them . T But the hypocrites cannot bear ridicule . hey were alarmed at once and thou ght it monstrous that I should dare to make fun of their cant and attempt to decry a trade which so many honest T folk are concerned in . hat was a crime they Could not pardon ; and they all armed them selves against my comedy with dreadful fury . T hey took good care , however, not to attack it on the side where it wounded them ; th ey are too politic for that ; they know the ways of life 30 PRE FACE TO TARTUFFE

h F too well to lay bare t eir real minds . ollow i n g their laudable custom , they hide their own interests behind the cause of God ; Tartuffe f I t they say , is an of ence against religion . is full of abominations from end to end ; they see h nothing in it but w at deserves to be burned . E very syllable is impious even the gestures are criminal ; the merest glance , the slightest shak h h i ing of the head, the least step rig t or left, de mysteries which they manage to explain to my

n i jury . I n vain have I submitted my play to the judgment of friends, and to the criticism of all I the world ; the corrections have made , the

n opinion of the ki g and queen , who have seen

th e the comedy , approbation of great princes and ministers of State who have publicly honored it with their presence , the testimony of good men who find it profitable , all that is of no avail . My enemies will not desist ; and to this day they prompt their zealous bigots , who cry out f publicly , of er me pious insults, and charitably

damn me . I should care very little for what they say were it not for their cleverness in making me h I appear the enemy of t at which respect, and

in winning to their side good men , whose gen PRE FACE TO TARTUFFE 31

u u uiuc faith they work pon , and who , thro gh the ardor which they truly feel for the cause of heaven , are open to the impressions my ene I t mies seek to give them . is this that obliges I d me to defend my cause . esire to justify myself and my comedy in the minds of truly

I n religious persons , whom co jure, with all my

n n heart, not to co demn these thi gs before they see them , but , on the contrary, to lay aside all prejudice and not to serve the passions of those whose cant dishonors them . I f any one will take pains to examine my

i n ten comedy candidly , he will see that my tions are wholly innocent ; th at the play does

n h not , in any se se , laugh at those things whic we ought to revere ; that I have treated my subject with the precautions which its deli cacy required ; and th at I have used all the art and all the care I possibly could in distinguish ing the character of the hypocrite from that of I . F truly pious men or this very purpose, employed two whole acts in preparing the way

Th e for my scoundrel . audience is not kept for one moment in doubt ; he is known for what

' he is from the start and , from end to end , he does not say one word, he does not do one act, which will not show to the spectators the nature 32 PRE FACE TO TARTUFFE

bad n r of a man , and bri g into elief that of the good man to which I oppose him . I know that these gentlemen insinuate , by way of answer, that the theatre is not the place

. I to discuss these matters ; but ask, with all

e due defer nce to them, on what they base their I t theory . is a proposition which they simply suppose ; they have not tried to prove it in any I t way . would not be difficult to prove to

n them , on the other hand , that comedy , amo g the ancients, had its origin in religion and made part of its Mysteries ; that our neighbors the Spaniards never celebrate a church festival in which comedy does not take part ; that even O among ourselves, it wes its birth to the help of a religious fraternity who still o wn the HOtel

a de Bourgogne, a pl ce formerly set apart to represent the most important Mysteries of our faith ; that we may still read comedies written in black- letter by a doctor of the Sorbonne ; and

o wn finally, to go no farther, that in our time the sacred plays of Monsieur de Corneille have

F . been acted, to the admiration of all rance I f the purpose of comedy is to correct the I vices of men , do not see why some comedies

To should be privileged to do so, others not . allow this would produce results far more dan

34 PRE FACE TO TARTUFFE

' the comedy of Tartu fl e must either be ap

r proved o other comedies must be condemned . t That, in fact, is the object of this at ack, for never was there such inveigh ing against I h the stage . cannot deny that there ave been Fathers of the Church who condemned comedy ; but no one can dispute that other reverend men have treated it more gently ; therefore the weight of that censure is lessened by half ; and all that can be deduced from this diversity of Opinion among minds enlightened from the same source 18 th at th ey have seen comedy from different points of view ; some have considered it in its purity, while others looked only at its corruptions , and have con founded true comedy with villanous entertain ” ments , justly called spectacles of turpitude .

Now n , inasmuch as we ought to discuss thi gs , n ot m words, and most of our contradictions co e from not understanding each other and using

n the same words to cover opposite meani gs , we have only to strip o ff the veil of ambi guity and look at what comedy really is, to see whether or not it is condemnable . We I h shall discover, think , t at being neither more nor less than a witty poem, reproving the faults

of men by agreeable lessons, it cannot be cen PRE FACE To TARTUFFE 35

I f we sured without great injustice . are willing to listen to the testimony of antiquity it will tell us that the most celebrated ph iloso

h ers p praised comedy, even those who made profession of austere virtue and rebuked i n c es

' n l I t will sh ow sa t y the vices of their age . us that Aristotle devoted his evenings to the theatre, and took pains to reduce to precepts

n I t the art of writi g comedy . will also inform

men us that its greatest , the first in dignity, made it their glory to write plays themselves ; while others did not disdain to recite in public those they wrote ; that Greece paid homage to the art by glorious prizes and the splendid theatres with which she honored it ; and that in R ome the art was welcomed with extraordi — I nary honors , do not mean in debauched R and licentious ome , under its emperors , but in R the disciplined old ome , under its consuls, in the days when R oman virtue was vigorous . I admit that there have been times when comedy became corrupt . What is there that the world does not corrupt ? There is nothing so innocent that men will not foist sin into it ; no art so wholesome but what they will reverse the inten tions of it ; nothing so good in itself that they will not put it to some bad use . 36 PRE FACE TO TARTUFFE

Medicine is a useful art ; we all respect it as one of the most excellent things we have ; and yet there have been times when it became odious ; often it has been used to poison men .

' h a ift P ilosophy is g from Heaven, bestowed upon us to lift our minds to the knowledge of God by the contemplation of his marvels in Nature ; yet no one is ignorant h ow it has been turned from its true mission, and publicly

Th e used to sustain impiety . holiest things are ’ not protected from man s corruption ; daily we see scoundrels misusing piety , and making it subserve the greatest crimes . But, for all

distinc that, we do not fail to make the proper

n tio s ; we do not involve , with false inference , the true excellence of the thing misused with the evil of its corrupters . We separate the harmful practice from the intention of the art itself ; and , as we do not suppress medicine

R be because ome banished it , or philosophy i t cause was publicly condemned at Athens, neither ou ght we to forbid comedy because it was censured at one period of its history .

T n hat ce sure had its reasons, which exist no

now longer . Censure is confined to what it sees ; we ought not to draw it beyond the limit it has assigned to itse lf ; it should not PRE FACE TO TARTUFFE 37 be suffered to go farther than it need and so

Th e involve the innocent with the guilty . comedy that was formerly attacked is not the comedy we are now defending ; and the public should be very careful not to confound the one with the other . They are two beings

n T whose moral atures are entirely opposed . hey have no connection with each other except in I t similarity of name . would be a terrible injustice to condemn Olympia the virtuous wo man because there was once another Olympia wh o was a wanton Such judgmen ts would create disorder in the world ; noth ing would

n be safe from condem ation ; and, inasmuch as such rigor cannot be enforced, mercy should d be shown to come y , and approval given to plays in which integrity and instruction are seen to reign . I know that there are minds whose delicacy cannot endure comedies of any kind ; wh o say that the most virtuous are the most dangerous ; that the passions therein depicted are all the more affecting because they are mingled with v l irtue, and that sou s are moved to pity by such representations . I do not see that there is any crime in being moved by the sight of h honest passion . T e absolute insensibility to 38 PRE FACE TO TARTUFFE which these person s seek to raise our souls is a lofty stage of virtue ; but I doubt if human nature has the strength to attain to such per fection I , and submit that it may be better to rectify and calm men ’s passions than seek to crush them altogether . I will admit that there are places it were t I f better to frequen than the theatre . blame must indeed be cast on all things that do not

o d look directly toward G , the stage must be one of them ; and I should not complain were it condemned with all the rest But let u s — — suppose what is true that th e exercises of religion must have intervals, and that men have need of relaxation and amusement ; then I main tain that none more innocent can be found than that of comedy . I But I am writing too much . will end with the remark of a great prince on the comedy of

Tartuffe .

E was ight days after it was forbidden , a play acted before the court entitled Hermit Seara

n mouche and the ki g, as he went out, said to the great prince whom I have mentioned : “ I should like to know why the persons who are so scandalized at Moliere ’s comedy have ‘ S ’ never said a word against caramouche . PE TITIONS To THE KI NG 39

“ To which the prince replied : Th e reason is that the comedy of ‘ Scaramouche ’ laughs at heaven and religion , about which those gentle

’ men care nothing at all ; but Moliere s comedy laughs at them ; and that is a thing they can not endure .

FIRST PE TITI ON

PRESENTED To THE KING

” On the Comed o Ta rtu e which ha d not et been y f f , y represen ted i n p u blic

S Th e IRE , duty of comedy being to correct

n I men while amusi g them , thought that, in the I 1 I l employ which hold , cou d not do better than attack with ridiculous scenes the vices of my epoch ; and as hypocrisy is one of the most common , troublesome , and dangerous of those S I vices, it came into my mind , ire , that should do no small service to all honest men in your kingdom if I wrote a comedy against hypocrites, and set forth , in a proper manner, the studied grimaces of those extravagantly pious folk , and the covert rascalities of those counterfeiters of devotion, who endeavor to

1 Th t of le der of th ou e R o a a e Tr p du i . 40 PE TITI ONS TO THE KING impose on others by canting zeal and sophistical charity . I S I wrote the comedy , ire , with, as think , all the care and circumspection that the d eli cacy of the matter demanded ; and the better to maintain the respect and esteem which we I I owe to all true piety, made the character I had to deal with as plain as possible . left I nothing equivocal in my play . took out all that might seem to confound good with evil, and used nothing in my picture but the special colors and essential features required to show at

first sight an actual, unmistakable hypocrite . Nevertheless all my precautions have been S useless . Persons are relying, ire , on the sen siti veness of your soul in matters of religion ; and they have known how to take you on the —I only side on which you are takable , mean, h that of your respect for sacred things . T e Tartuffes have had the wit to find favor with your Majesty ; in short, the originals have suppressed the copy, innocent as it is, and like as people thought it . Though the suppression of my work has been a serious blow to me, my pain has been greatly softened by the manner in which your Majesty I expressed yourself to me on the subject . felt,

42 PE TITIONS TO THE KING

Th e S book , ire , has been presented to your

h ow Majesty, who will no doubt perceive grievous it must be for me to be daily exposed h to the insults of these gentlemen , and w at evil they can do me in the world by such calumnies , if they are tolerated ; and also, what interest I have in freeing myself from s uch mis- statements and proving to the public that my play is not in the least what they are I trying to make it seem . shall not say a S I word, ire , of what might ask in defence of my reputation, and to justify the innocence of my comedy in the eyes of the world ; en

n lightened ki gs, like yourself, do not need l to be shown what is desired ; they see , ike

od G , that which is needful for us , and know I t better than we what they ought to grant . suffices me to put my cause in the hands of I your Majesty, and await, with respect, what t it may please you o do in the matter . PE TITIONS To THE KI NG 43

S E C O N D P E T I T I O N

PR ESENTED To THE KING

I n his c amp before the town of Lille in F la nders ; by

the named L a Thorilliére a nd L a Gra n e c ome g , dia ns of his M ajesty a nd c ompa nions of the S ieu r

r n i n u nc ti n issu ed A u ust 6 16 6 7 M olie e ; o the j o g , , n ot to p erfo rm the c omedy of Tartufi e with ou t a fu rth er o rderfrom his Ill ajesty

S I t IRE , is a very bold thing in me to come and import une a great monarch in the midst of his glorious victories ; but in the posi I S l tion in which am placed, ire , where shal

I n I find protectio except just here , where seek it ? Whom can I entreat to help me against

the authority of a power which is crushing me ,

th e but the source of all power and authority , just dispenser of absolute orders, the sovereign judge and master of all things ? M S y comedy , ire , can be played here only

n I n through the ki dness of Your Majesty . vain have I produced it under the name of

“ ’7 Th e I mpostor, and disguised that personage by the apparel of a man of the world ; in vain I have given him a little hat, a bushy wig, a

u h ge collar , with a sword , and lace all over his coat ; in vain have I softened various parts and 44 PE TITIONS TO THE KING cut out carefully all that I thought capable of furnishing even a pretext to the celebrated w I originals, hose portraits had endeavored to

h e make ; it was all to no purpose . T cabal is up in arms at the mere conjectures they have made T about the thing . hey have found means to mislead minds which , in other matters, profess M that they are never misled . y comedy had no sooner appeared than it was blasted by an authority which we are forced to respect ; and all that I was able to do in this crisis to save myself from the fury of the storm , was to say that your Majesty had been good enough to I permit the performance, and that therefore di d not think myself obliged to ask permis

was sion of others, inasmuch as it only your Majesty who had the power to withdraw that I which had . I S I have no doubt, ire , that the persons depict i n my comedy will use every effort against me with your Majesty, and will bring S over to their ide , as they have already done ,

u many pio s people , who are all the more easily misled because they judge others by them M selves . y enemies have the art to give a

fine coloring to their intentions ; nevertheless, ’ whatever they may pretend, it is not God s PE TITI ONS TO THE KING 4 5

s T interest that move them . hey have shown this plainly enough in the comedies they have allowed to be played many times in publi c with

a T out saying word . hose comedies attacked only true religion and piety , for which these persons care very little ; but mine attacks and

th em c laughs at , and that is what they annot T bear . hey will not forgive me for exposing their impostures to the eyes of the world ; and, no doubt, they will tell your Majesty that every one is scandalized by my comedy . But the S real truth is , ire , that all Paris is scandalized

Th e at the injunction put upon it . most scrupulous persons thought the representation a useful one , and every one is surprised that persons of eminent position should pay such deference to a class of men who ought to be the horror of the whole world, so opposite are they to the truth and piety they profess . I respectfully await the judgment which your Majesty will deign to render on this subject ; S I but it is very certain, ire , that shall have to give up writing comedies if the Tartuffes are T to win the day . hey will assume the right, from that moment, to persecute me more than ' n ever , and to find fault with the most innoce t

things that come from my pen . 4 6 PE TITI ONS TO THE KING S Deign of your goodness, ire, to protect me

v I against their en enomed hatred ; and may , on your return from this glorious campaign , refresh your Majesty after the fatigues of con quest, give you innocent pleasure after noble toil , and make the monarch laugh who makes all E urope tremble .

THI R D PETITI ON

RES ENT To THE G F R ARY 1 66 P ED KIN , EB U 5, 9

S A IRE , very worthy doctor, whose patient 1 I be have the honor to , has promised , and is i w lling to go before a notary and swear, to make me live thirty years longer if I will obtain a I favor from your Majesty . told him as to his I promise , that did not want so much as that, and would be quite satisfied if he would bind

Th e S himself not to kill me . favor, ire , is a

a - c nonry in your chapel royal at Vincennes, made vacant by the death of

1 His n me was Mau vilain Th e kin s id t o Molier a . g a e ” Y ou h a e a do ct or wh t does h e do for o u ? i re v , a y S , sa id Moliere h e c omes t o see me we t lk t o ether h e , , a g , ’ ” rescribes remedies I don t t ke t he m a nd I et ell . p , a , g w oliere k for M obt ai ned t h e c anon ry h e as ed . PE TI TI ONS TO THE KING

Dare I ask this favor of your Majesty on the very day of the grand resurrection of “ T ff ” ? artu e , resuscitated by your goodness By that first favor I am reconciled to all godly I people ; by the second , if granted , shall be

. F reconciled with the doctors or me , no doubt, these are too many great favors all at once ; but perhaps they are not too many for your I Majesty to grant ; and await, With some hope , the answer to my petition . P ERS O NAG ES

A DA M R LL M other o Or an. C M E PE NE E f g I Q A H usba nd o E lmire OR GON f . ” LM I R e c Or an E E Wif g g .

M I s S on of Organ .

MA RI A D a u hter Or an beloved NE g of g ,

‘ b a lter y V e.

VA LER L over a ria n E q e.

CLEA B rother-i n-la w o r an NTE f O g .

TA R UFF H ocr te T E yp i .

DOR Com a ni on to M a ria n INE p e. ’ L h o A S er s cer. M . OY L if fi A N OFFICER OF POLICE .

F L I P OTE M ai d to M a da me P ernelle.

’ Th e scene i s i n P a ri s in r on e house . , O g

50 TARTUFF E [ A CT I

MA D A ME PERNELLE .

I -ou Because cannot see these goings besides, no one takes pains to please me in this house I hold . Yes, leave you much dissatisfied ; all my lessons are set at nought ; nothing is here respected ; all of you talk at once and loudly ;

this house is actually a tower of Babel .

DORINE .

A A M D ME PERNELLE .

M n y dear, you are nothi g but a servant after

all ; rather too ready with your tongue, and very

impertinent you say your say on all things .

A D MIS .

A A M D ME PERNELLE .

You are a fool in four letters, grandson ; and I t I it is , your grandmother, who ell you so .

have warned my son, your father, a hundred times that you are beginning to get the look of a l scapegrace, and wi l never give him anything but

worry .

A A M RI NE . I think SCENE I] TARTUFFE

A A M D ME PERNELLE .

A s for you, his sister, you are very demure ;

u butter will hardly melt in your mo th, so min cing are you . But still waters run deep, they

I e . say , and you lead, on the sly, a life det st

E LMIRE .

But, mother

A A M D ME PERNELLE .

u - in -law Your conduct, da ghter , saving your h presence , is t oroughly bad . You ought to set m T this fa ily a good example . heir deceased ma m ett r /W e . You squander your substance ; it shocks me to see you dressed like a princess . Whoso wants to please her husband does not need such finery .

’ ' é EA rru rc 5 é rb ‘ hf CL NTE . (g/

But, madame , after all

A A M D ME PERNELLE . e w e A s h er I I for you, brother, esteem you much ,

I f mm herh us band honor, respect you ; but i l

I W0 in plaw , not h set foot in my ouse . You are perpetually

I s ought not to follow . peak somewhat frankly, 52 TARTUFFE [A CT I

’ ’ but that s my way ; I don t mince matters I when have them at heart .

A D MIS . Your Monsieur Tartuffe is fortunate

A A M D ME PERNELLE .

T ma ou here, indeed, is a n a worth to ”whom y I . be ought to listen cannot bear, without

a coming angry, the way fool like you finds fault with him .

A D MIS . ! I I What am to bear it, , when a bigoted hypocrite comes here and tries to usurp I n our home a yranni cal power ? A re we forbidden to t G f M amuse ourselves unless this fine gentleman deign s to consent ?

DORINE .

“ I f we listened to him a nd believed in his

’ ’ maxims 0 t thin that is n t a grime; for he censures all things, the carping zealot A A M D ME PERNELLE . A ll that he censures deserves censure . He tries to lead you on the road to heaven, and my him son ought to make you love . SCENE I] TARTUFFE

A D MIS . N o, grandmother, no ; neither my father nor

th e all world can“ force me to feel kindly to I I him . should betray my soul if said other i I I w se . resent his ways of doing things, am angry all the time ; and I foresee the con I I sequences . know that shall come to some

great outburst with that lying scoundrel .

DORINE .

’t Yes, is indeed a scandal to see that stranger A ! in this house lay down the law . beggar

who, when he came , had neither shoes nor coat worth a brass farthing that h e should so forget his real condition as to thwart every one and play the master !

A A M D ME PERNELLE . Mercy upon me ! the world would go much

better if it were governed by his pious doctrines .

DORINE .

A A M D ME PERNELLE . Just hear her tongue ! 54 TARTUFFE [A CT I

DORINE . I would trust neither him nor his valet

s Laurent without a urety .

A A M D ME PERNELLE . I I know nothing about the man, but myself will guarantee the master . You only hate him and reject him because he tells you, each and ’T all , the truth . is sin his heart abhors ; the cause of heaven is that which drives him on to all he does .

DORINE . T hen why, especially of late, can he not bear that others should frequent this house ? I s heaven so injured by a friendly visit that he must raise an uproar fit to deafen us ? I f I may I speak my mind among ourselves, think, upon

moti on i n to E lmi ra my word ( g ) , that he is jealous of madame .

A A M D ME P ERNELLE .

! I t Hush reflect on what you say . is not he w alone who blames these visits . Your ay of life ; the bustle that attends the persons who frequent you ; these coaches without end before

the door ; the noisy crowd of lacqueys, disturb I the neighborhood . try to think that no harm SCENE I ] TARTUFFE 55 comes of it ; but all the town is talking of these things ; and that is, in itself, an evil .

CLEA NTE .

do o ? Hey ! madame, you think t hinder gossip I t would indeed be grievous were we forced to sa crifice our loyal friends because of silly ta lk about us . But if we did resolve upon the ’t sacrifice , do you think would force the world to hold its tongue ? There is no barrier to T slander . herefore we ought to pay no heed to

et foolish cackle . L us endeavor to live inno tl cen s . y, and give full license to the talker

DORINE . h é Dap n , our neighbor, and her little husband, are not they the ones who talk against us ? Those whose behavior most excites derision are T sure to be the ones to slander others . hey never fail to catch at once the faintest glimmer S of a slight attachment, and pread the rumor with delight, giving it the turn they wish to be

h e . T believed acts of others, tinted with their

l o wn co ors, will justify, they think , their S misdeeds, and (with the false idea of ome

n resemblance) give to their intrigues i nocence, or cast elsewhere some portion of the public

r- blame with which they are ove weighted . 56 TARTUFFE [A CT I

A A M D ME PERNELLE . S f uch arguments do not af ect this matter . We know that Orante leads w xempl all lig her efforts all are heaven ward and I know from

this household .

DORINE . A n excellent example ! the lady is so good !

’ T is true she lives austerely ; but years have put thi s ardent zeal into her soul ; she is known

to be a prude reluctantly . So long as she was

’ able to attract men s homage she made good use

B ut of her advantages . as the sparkle of her

bright eyes dimmed, she renounced the world ,

which then was leaving her, and with the pompous veil of lofty virtue disguised the

’ failure of her stale attractions . T is thus that T Time converts these past coquettes . hey find it hard to see their lovers leave them ; when

d so ls thus aban oned, their regretful u find no

resource except the trade of prudery . Thus the stern virtue of these pious women must censure

Th u dl all and pardon nothing . eyfi y blame

o ut the lives of others, not of charity, but

th ginfi wn desnea has weane“d w ‘ v

53 TARTUFF E [A CT I

I h ou s o ff cut this hold from half my property, and it will be a fine day truly when I again set B ’ . oxes F li t foot within these walls ( p o e s ea r. )

Come, you, who are gaping at the ceiling .

’ ! I ll r Heavens and earth warm you ears .

Walk on, you slut, walk on .

SCE NE SE C OND

CLEA DOR NTE , INE

EA CL NTE .

I s r hall not follow them, lest she quar el with me again ; that good woman

DORINE .

’ What a pity she S no longer present to hear you call her that ! She would cry out that you

be may be good, but that she is not of an age to given that title .

A CLE NTE .

H ow was angry she with us, all about noth ing ! A nd h ow infatuated S h e is with her Tartuffe

DORINE .

Yes ; but truly, that is nothing to the state of her son ; if you had seen him lately , you Som mII ] TARTUFFE 59

was Th e would say it much worse . troubles of the country had made him a wise man ; he served his king with courage ; and yet, em since he has been so bewitched by Tartuffe he loves him in his heart more than he loves mother him or son, or wife or d He makes c n fidant an ti o d ofw h is ae q of alM l hv ! is secrets , w ns " Q “ t un —n u . “ M

su : 8 the reme director and cossets him,

mi str ss reater anw d could not show to an a A t tenderness . table , where he seats him at the upper end, he delights to see him eat enough for six ; all the tid- bits must go to him ; and if “ ”

od . he chance to sneeze , he cries G bless you

I n c raz bou t t short, he is y a him w hw all his hero ; he admires him at every turn ,

thinks miracles , and all the words he utters are T f portentous . artuf e , who knows his dupe and means to profit by him , has the art, by scores of

H can ti n S . i , i _ colorable hams to dazzle h m s_ _ g piety extracts large sums of mon ey from his _ pugsey h e assumes the right to criticise us all ; even the foppish fellow wh o attends him pre sumes to imitate his master and read us lessons . With scowling eyes he preaches to us and flings

Th e away our ribbons, rouge , and patches . 60 TARTUFFE [A CT I other day the wretch tore up a kerchief that ” Th e F S declar he found in lower of aints, ing we were guilty of a crime in mingling the

’ devil s finery with holiness .

SCE NE THI RD

E LM R MA R A D A M I s CLEA DOR I E , I NE , , NTE , INE

’

E t o lea n te. LMIRE, O I t is fortunate you did not come with us and I hear her parting speech . But have seen my I husband coming home ; as he did not see me , will go upstairs, and wait his coming there .

CLEA NTE . I shall await him here , merely to say good day .

SCE NE FOUR TH

CLEA D A M S DOR NTE , I , INE

A D MIS . Say something to him about my sister ’s mar

' I Tartufl e fi fi half suspect that hinders it,

and drives my father to these late evasions . You know the interest that I have in the SCENE V] TARTUFFE 61

I f matter . mutual ardor stirs my sister and

alera V , the sister of the latter, as you know, is

’ dear to me ; and if t is necessary

DORINE .

Hush ! here he comes .

SC E N E FIFTH

ORGO CLEA DOR N, NTE , INE

ORGON .

Ah ! - in- l - aw . brother , good day

EA CL NTE . I I was just leaving . am glad to see you

’ h e back . T country can t be very bloomin g at this season .

ORGON .

’

. To Clea n te Dorine ( ) Wait, my dear brother i n - la w I . I , beg You will allow me , am sure , to c ase my mind by asking what has happened

r e in my absence . ( To D o i n ) Has all gone well these two days ? What have they done at home ? H ow is their health ?

DORINE .

Madame had fever all the day you left, with

a strange headache . TARTUFFE

ORGON . A nd Tartuffe ?

DORINE . T f ! artuf e oh , he is well ; stout and his florid skin and rosy lips .

ORGON . P oor man !

DORINE .

A t night she felt a gi'eat disgust for food could not touch her supper ; her headache was cruelly distressing .

ORGON . An d Tartuffe

DORINE . He ate his supper with good appetite before

two her, and piously consumed partridges and h half a leg of mutton , ashed .

ORGON . 4 Poor man !

DORINE .

Th e whole night long she never closed her eyes ; the heat prevented her from sleeping ; and so till daylight we sat up with her .

ORGON . And Tartuffe ? SCENE V] TARTUFF E 63

DORINE . Urged by a pleasant desire to sleep he left the table , went to his room, and put himself at once into his warm and comfortable bed , where, without the slightest trouble, he slept m till orning .

ORGON . Poor man

DORINE . A t last she yielded to our persuasions and

n R resolved on bei g bled . elief ensued imme diatel y.

ORGON . An d Tartuffe ?

DORINE . He gathered proper courage and fortified his soul against the ills of life ; to repair the loss

d r of bloo caused to madame , he d ank four flasks of wine .

ORGON . Poor man !

DORINE . T I hey are both quite well at present . will n ow u go and tell madame of your ret rn , and of

e the int rest that you take in her recovery . TARTUFFE

SC E N E SI XTH

ORGO CLEA N, NTE

A CL E NTE .

S I s he laughing at you, brother, to your face ;

a I m and, without intending to nnoy you , ust frankly say that there is justice in it . Who ever heard of a like caprice ? Can it be that a man should hold a spell in these days to make you oblivious of all else but h im ? Having rescued him from poverty, have you reached the point of

ORGON .

- in - law Halt there , my brother ; you do not kn ow the man of whom you speak .

EA CL NTE .

I do as n not know him , you say ; but i order that I may knowwhat manner of man he is

ORGON . B l rother, you wou d be charmed to know him ; your rapture would be endless . He is a man

wh o — ! —a ah a man man, in short , who liYfi i lll l a he t eaw wfi w

- peace , and counts the world a muck ea . , M h p Yes I have grown another being through intercourse

66 TARTUFFE [A CT I

rr have prospered here . He has co ected much ; even in my wife he takes the deepest interest for ’ t my honor s sake . He warns me of the gallan s soft eyes at her ; for me he is more

fi I n ou jw w fact. y could scarce believe to what a point his pious zeal can carry him . His conscience thinks the

him he even went so far th e other day as to accuse himself for having caught a flea l whi e he was praying, and then of killing it with too much anger .

EA CL NTE .

P a r l u I I b e you are crazy, brother ; or else , I f e o u . do beli ve , y are laughing at me so, What do you mean ? I s all this jesting meant to

ORGON .

Brother, such speeches argue too much liberty of thought . Your soul is somewhat tainted with I that freedom , and, as have already preached to you a dozen times, you will draw down upon

e yourself some great disast r .

CLEA NTE . That is the usual talk of your new set of T people . hey want all other men to be as SCENE VI ] TARTUFFE 67

To blind as they . have good eyes, they call free-thinking and he who cannot worship cant ing affectation has no respect or faith for sacred hi N t ngs . o, no, your speeches cannot frighten me ; I know of what I speak ; Heaven sees my heart ; it is not every one who is a slave to your

T u conventions . here are false godly men , j st as there are false brave ones ; and as we see h them only where their onor calls, the truly brave are those who make least flourish ; just as the truly pious, whose steps we ought to follow, are never those who most parade their piety . What ! you make no distinction between hypocrisy and true religion ? You treat them

e Ual both on q terms, and render the same honor to the mask as to the countenance ? You rate sincerity with artfulness, confound appearances with truth , value the shadow as you do the person, and take false money at the worth of

? M en gold , for the most part, are strange beings ; we never find them naturally just . R eason, for them, is too restricted ; they go beyond its limits everywhere , and often spoil a noble thing by pushing it too far and making I it preposterous . speak of this in passing,

-i n-law brother . TARTUFFE

ORGON .

mo hi Yes, you are , no doubt, a p M W knowledge has retreated into you .

You are the only wise, the only enlightened

—eu human being, oracle , a Cato of the age in which we live ; all other meu w but fools .

CLEA NTE .

N ! I u l o, no am no s ch reverenced phi osopher ; wisdom has not retreated to my breast ; but I — do know and this i s all my knowledge

A nd truth from falsehood . as I see no sort of hero more to be prized than a truly pious man , no other thing in life so noble and so beautiful as the holy fervor of a real devotion , so I find nought more odious than th ese whited m sepulchres of canting zeal , these bold perfor ers of religion, these pious humbugs waiting in the churches for their dupes ; whose sacrilegious and deceitful cant plays as it will, unchecked, with all th at mortals hold most sacred and most

T ah holy . hese men, who , with their souls sorbed in selfish interests, make godliness a craft, a merchandise , and seek to purchase dig n ities and credit by blinking eyes and simulated ecstasy, who are seen rushing with no com mon ardor along th e path to heaven in quest SCENE V I ] TARTUFF E 69

of fortune , who, fervid and prayerful, preach

h o w retirement amid a court , know to fit their piety to their vices, are sharp , vindictive , full of artifice , wholly without faith in anything ; and, when they wish to injure others, they call S their bold resentment zeal for Heaven . uch men as these are the more dangerous in their peevish anger because they use the weapons we

and . revere , seek to kill us with a sacred sword

T . heir wily natures are , alas , too common But

h e truly pious hearts are easily distinguished . T t m present century , bro her, presents so e fine é . S n examples to our eyes ee Aristo , see P ri

A lcidamas P ol dore litau dre andre , Oronte , , y , C ; no one denies to them the epithet of godly ; and yet they are not at all the trumpeters of virtue ; we never find in them that intolerable parade of

i s . T piety heir religion human , gentle , merci

’ ful e M fi i there s too much arrogance , they think , in such reproof

’ they leave vainglorious words to others ; t is

Th e by their actions they reprove our lives . impulse of their souls is to judge well of others ;

’ T s they are not on the watch for evil . here

n no caballi g in their minds, and they have no intrigues to carry on . Their chief care is to live good lives . They are not bitter against TARTUFFE

’ sinners ' t is to the S in their hatred fastens ;

’ W they seek to show in Heaven s cause a greater zeal than Heaven itself desires . Those are the men I like ; that is the way to deal with S others ; there , in hort, is the example which t we all should follow . Your man , to ell the

. I truth, is not of that kind know you vaunt

I n his piety in all good faith, but thi k that you are z da zled by false sanctimony .

ORGON .

M -i n- law e y dear, good brother , hav you said all your say ?

A CLE NTE .

tu rn i n to o . ORGON, g g

’ n Then I m your very humble serva t .

A CLE NTE .

S w . L et top ; one moment, brother, one ord I e us drop this topic . wish to speak of Val re ;

-in -law your son .

ORGON .

A CLE NTE .

You opened the way yourself to that soft tie . S a m VI ] TARTUFFE 71

ORGON .

A CLE NTE . Then why put off the marriage ?

OR GCN . I do not know .

CLEA NTE . Have you another plan in mind ?

ORGON .

P erhaps .

CLEA NTE .

T I n r here is no obstacle , think , to hi de you

‘ from keeping to your Word ?

ORGON .

’ T S ma hat as it y be .

A CLE NTE .

Does it need such caution just to say one ? e word Val re has asked me to speak to you .

ORGON . Thank heaven ! EA CL NTE . What am I to tell him ?

ORGON . i Anyth ng you please . TARTUFFE [A CT I

EA CL NTE . I But must know your plans . What are they

ORGON .

o l T do as Heaven wi ls .

EA CL NTE . t L e us speak plainly . Valere promise ; do you , or do you not , keep it ?

ORGON .

Adieu .

EA a lon e . CL NTE , I I fear misfortune to his love , and must

h ow let know things are going .

F A E N D O FIRST CT .

74 TARTUFFE [ACT II

MA RI A NE . I am very grateful for your fatherly love .

ORGON . m h Well said, y daughter ; m e lov you must take ains to lease me .

A A M RI NE .

I take the utmost pride in doing so .

ORGON .

s Very good . What think you of our gue t, Tartuffe A A M RI NE . I ? Who,

ORGON .

h ow r You . Be careful you answe .

MA RIA NE . Oh I ’11 , then say exactly what you wish .

SCE NE SE COND

ORGO MA R A DORI enteri n s tl a nd sta ndin N , I NE , NE , g of y g behind Org an without bei ng seen

ORGON .

r T m You speak ve y properly . herefore, y

th e m daughter, W highest erit SCENE II ] TARTUFFE 75

W ; that he has touched our

heart ; and that you are glad to have him, by

H 511 11W1 u s 5 3

A A N recoi li n i n a ma z em nt . M RI E , g e A h !

ORGON . What ’s all this ?

A MA RI NE .

What did you say

ORGON . How ? A A M RI NE . Can I be mistaken ?

ORGON . What do you mean ?

A A M RI NE . I is it, father, that am to say has my heart ? Whom shall I be glad to husband by your choice ?

ORGON .

Tartuffe . A A M RI NE .

to I He is nothing of all that me , swear to

ou . y , father Why do you wish me to utter such a falsehood ? 76 TARTUFFE [ A CT I I

ORGON .

I wish it to be truth ; it is that I have willed it .

A A M RI NE . What ? do you wish

ORGON .

f In . d tuf e to family He will be your husban , my daughter ; on that I am determined ; and as

I P ercei vi n D ori n e for your wishes, ( g ) What are you doing here ? Your curiosity is e k en, my girl, to make you come and listen to me thus .

DORINE . I ’ don t know, truly, whether the rumor came from mere conjecture or from some odd chance ; I I but was told already of this marriage , and have treated it as pure absurdity .

ORGON . What ! is the thing incredible ?

DORINE . S I l o incredible that do not be ieve it, even though you say it .

ORGON .

I know the way to force you to beh eve me . Sca m II] TARTUFFE 77

DORINE . Oh ! you are telling us a tale in jest !

ORGON . I am telling you that which you will

find is true .

DORINE . Nonsense

ORGON . I What am saying , daughter, is no joke .

DORINE .

D o not believe him ; he is joking .

ORGON . I tell you

DORINE . N S o matter what you say , we never hall believe you .

ORGON .

My anger will at last

DORINE .

L et 1 us talk without anger, monsieur, entreat

u A re wh o yo . you playing some joke on those laid this plot ? Your daughter is not the object of that canting bigot, for he has other matters h u h . on which his tho g ts are bent Besides, w at good would such a marriage do you ? Why 73 TARTUFFE [A CT II s t hould you, with all your wealth , selec a beggar for a son-in-law ?

ORGON . I f ’t Be silent . he has nothing, remember is for that we should revere him . His poverty is honest povert it lifts him hi h above all grandeur, because he lost his means by taking - - l bf ittle care earthly things, and clinging closely M to the things eternal . y help will now enable him to issue from embarrassment, and so regain

h i s fiefs his property, also domains, which are with good titles in his native province , where,

h im n ow h e n obleman such as we see , t is a l

DORINE . ’t Yes , but is he who says so, and such vanity does not accord with piety . He who claims the t simplicity of a saintly life , ough not to make

Th e parade of name and birth . humble ways of true devotion can ill endure the glitter of ambition ; what goodness can there be in such a pride ? But these remarks displease you ; let us talk of the man , and leave his nobility alone .

an C you , without a sense of wrong, give a daughter such as yours to such a man ? Ought you not to think of certain decencies, and fore see the results of such a union ? R emember SCENE II] TARTUFFE 79

’ that a father risks a daughter s virtue b forcin her to marry a einst h er likin Her intention of livin g as an honest woman depends upon the qualities of the husband who is given her ; and men to whom the finger of the world doth point make their wives often what we see they are .

’ T is difli cu lt indeed to be a faithful wife to certain husbands , of a certain kind ; and he who gives his dau h ter to a man she hates must answer to Heaven for the wron she does . R eflect upon these perils to which your scheme commits you .

ORGON . So ! I am to learn of you the way to live

DORINE .

You could not well do better than follow my advice .

ORGON . M y daughter , we will pay no heed to all this I nonsense . M W ; and I am your father . gave my word, on your e I behalf, to Val re ; but, beside the fact that

I n am told he gambles, suspect him of bei g

- I h e a free thinker, and do not observe that frequents the churches . 80 TARTUFFE [A CT II

DORINE . D o yo—u wish him to run there at your special hours, like others who did it to be seen by you ?

ORGON .

h I . T e did not ask for your opinion other, my daughter, stands well with Heaven , and ’ T that s a treasure second to none . his mar riege will crown your wishes with all good ; it will be filled with sweetness and with pleas T ures . ogether you will live in faithful ardor,

two like dear children , or two turtledoves ; no peevish quarrel can ever come between T f you, and you can make of artuf e what you will .

DORINE .

’ She ? S h e 11 H mk m 1 1 . 1 1 that .

ORGON . Heyday what talk is this ?

DORINE .

I say he has the making for it ; and his

example, monsieur, will in time carry the day

against the virtue that your daughter has .

TA RTUFFE [ ACT II

DORINE .

I t is a case of conscience n ot to let you go on

with such a marriage .

ORGON . S t ilence, serpent, whose brazen wi

DORINE . ! What you are pious, and you lose temper

ORGON .

Yes ; my bile is stirred by all this fiddle faddle ; and I insist that you shall hold your tongue .

DORINE . S I I o be it ; but the less say, the more think .

ORGON . T hink, if you choose ; but take good care

E ! Tu rn to say no more to me , or nough ( i n t o M a ri a n a A s I g ) a wise father, have maturely pondered all these things .

a side. DORINE ,

t o I am furious not be allowed to speak .

O ORG N .

’ ' Tartufi e Witho ut being quite a lady s man, in person is so pleasing SCENE II ] TARTUFFE 83

DORINE .

h o n O , yes , a pretty l oki g fellow, he !

ORGON . that even if you have no sympathy for all his other gifts

DORINE .

A fine choice truly ! ( Organ tu rn s towa rd

D ari n e a n d wi th h i s a rms cross ed li stens to , ,

er a n d looks stra i h t i n h er a ce h g f . ) Were

I man m me in her place , no should arry by

Th e force and not regret it . moment that the ceremony was over I ’d let him know that women have a vengeance always ready at their command .

D ori n to e. ORGON , S I ! o, what say is not obeyed

DORINE . Why do you complain ? I am not talking to

you .

ORGON . ? What are you doing , then

DORINE .

I am talking to myself . TARTUFFE [ACT II

a s ide. ORGON,

h er I must chastise such insolence, and let

n H e feel my hand at her ext saucy word . ( ’ p u ts hims elf i n p os i ti on to boa: D ori ne s ea rs ;

a n d a t ea ch s enten ce h e a ddresses to hi s

da u hter h e tu rn s a bou t to look a t D ari n e g ,

l u ri t w u wh o s ta n ds bo t p gh i th o t sp ea ki n g . ) M daughter, you are bound to approve my y — plan and beh eve that the husband whom I have selected ( To D ori n e) What do you say

DORINE . I i have noth ng to say .

ORGON .

Another word .

DORINE . I ’ don t choose to say it .

ORGON .

l I a c Wel , am w t hing for it .

E DORIN . I ’m ! not so silly, faith

ORGON .

I n h te short, my dau r; you must o bey,

and show your deference to my choice . m II T T F E S c a n . I] AR U F 85

r un ni n a wa DORINE, g y.

’ I f I took such a husband I d make him pay for it .

’ a l r ter a i i n to bowD o i n e s ea rs . ORGON, f f g M y daughter, you have a torment in that

n I woma , with whom can no longer live with out perpetually sinning . I am unable to pursue

now her , because her insolent words have fired I my temper . must go out and take the air and s - o recover my self possession .

S C E N E T H I R D

MA R A DOR I NE , INE

DORINE . Have you lost your tongue ? Am 1 to play your part in this affair ? Why do you allow them to propose this crazy project without repelling it by a single word ?

MA RIA NE . What would you have me do against an arbi trary father ?

DORINE .

Defend yourself against his threat .

MA RIA NE . But h ow ? TARTUFFE [A CT II

DORINE . Tell him the heart can never love at others ’ ; bidding that you marry for your own pi ke , not for his ; that you are the one concerned f in this af air, and therefore that the husband an ” . CO. “ t ~~ T f must please you , not him ; and if his artuf e ’d is so charming he better marry him himself, for nothing hinders .

A A M RI NE .

My father has such empire over me that I should never have the force to tell him that .

DORINE .

h s L et us reason the matter out . Valere a

a made propos ls to you ; do you love him, or do you n o t ? A A M RI NE .

A h ! h ow unjust you are to my great love ,

Dorine . Ought you to ask me such a ques tion ? Have I not opened my heart to you a

? ar hundred times You know my dor for him, to its full extent .

DORINE .

H ow do I know your heart speaks by your lips ; and whether this lover of yours has really touched it ? SCENE I II] TARTUFFE

A M RIA NE .

You do me a great wrong in doubting it .

n I have shown, only too openly , my feeli gs .

DORINE . Then you really love him ?

MA RIA NE .

Yes, with the utmost ardor .

DORINE .

A nd , according to appearances, loves you ardently

MA RI A NE .

I think so .

DORINE .

A n d s r you are , both of you, equally de i ous to be married to each other ?

A A M RI NE .

Assuredly .

DORINE . Then what will you do about this other marriage A A M RI NE . I l shall kill myse f if it is forced upon me .

DORINE .

’ Ah s I , true that a resource of which did not think ; you have only to die to escape the whole TARTUFFE [A CT II

The r embarrassment . remedy is ma vellous A h ! I am furious when I hear such talk as

that . A A M RI NE .

! n Good heavens Dori e, what tempers you give way to ! You have no compassion for

’ people s troubles .

DORINE . I have no compassion for people who say such foolish things, and then, like you, yield weakly on the first occasion .

MA RI A NE .

B ut h ow can I help it if I am so timid ?

DORINE .

Love in a heart should strengthen it .

MA RI A NE .

Must I be strong for Valera ? I s it not place to obtain me of my father ?

DORINE . f I your father is a downright tyrant, wholly T f infatuated with his artuf e , and breaks the

h ow promise he has given about your marriage, can you lay the blame on Valere ?

90 TARTUFFE [A CT I I

MA RI A NE . l h ! . F O stop this dreadfu talk , Dorine ind I 1IW . have done I I with fears , give up wholly ; am ready to do anything .

DORINE .

N hter o ; a dau should obe her father, even

a e a though he gives her an p for a husb nd . Your fate is a fine one ; why do you complain

? o of it You will g by coach to his little town , i so fertile in uncles and cousins, whom you w ll T find much pleasure in entertaining . hen you will be taken into the gay world of those parts .

You will visit, for your first appearance , Madame

’ ’ ’ f l elu w the bailif s wife and Madame e, who ill

- grant you the honor of a folding stool . During the carnival you may hope for a ball , and a

two grand band of music, to wit, bagpipes ;

F n perhaps even agoti , the trained monkey , and the mari onnettes if your husband

MA RIA NE .

Oh ! you are killing me ! D o turn your mind on helping me out .

DORINE .

N I . o, thank you S CENE I I I] TARTUFFE

A MA RI NE . Ah ’ Dorine , for pity s sake

DORINE . No for your sins this marriage must

A A M RI NE . My dear girl

DORINE .

MA RI A NE . I f my promises and vows

DORINE . N T f o . artuf e is your man ; you can fondle

MA RIA NE .

Y o u I v r know how ha e always t usted you .

DORINE .

N are Tartu fied o you doomed to be .

A A M RI NE .

Well , then, since my fate does not move you to pity , leave me to my despair ; it is from that my heart will gather strength ; I know the

Tu r to infallible remedy for its woes . ( ns go ou t . ) TARTUFFE [ A CT II

DORINE . ! ! I ’11 Hey there , there come back , and give I I up my wrath ; see must, in spite of all, have pity on you . A A M RI NE .

I r But if am forced into this cruel marty dom,

I I di e tell you, Dorine, shall .

DORINE .

’ ’ Well , don t fret yourself . We ll find some artful way of escape . Here comes your lover,

Valére himself .

S CE NE FOURTH

VA LER MAR A DORI E , I NE , NE

A E V L RE .

I a I have just heard a piece of news, mad me ,

zi did not know before ; it is ama ng .

A A M RI NE . What news ?

VA LERE .

to r T ff That you intend mar y artu e .

A A M RI NE .

I t i s tru e that my father has taken notion into his head . SCENE IV] TARTUFFE 93

A E V L RE .

Your father, madame, is pledged to

A A M RI NE .

h has s He has c anged his mind, and ju t

n posed the other thi g to me .

What seriously ?

A M RIA NE .

i n s Yes, seriously . He openly si ts upon the i marr age . A E V L RE .

A nd ? r r you what course will you hea t take, madame A A M RI NE . I do not know . A V LERE .

The s n w an wer is honest . You do not k o ?

A A M RI NE .

A E V L RE .

A A M RI NE . What do you advise ?

A E V L RE .

I ? I s a al advi e you to take that husb nd . V / q

kn TARTUFFE [A CT II

A A M RI NE .

I s that what you advise ?

Honestly A E V L RE .

f Th e O course . choice is glorious ; and deserves to be accepte d .

A A M RI NE .

T s Very good . hat is a coun el, monsieur, I which take . A E V L RE .

difii cu lt You will not find much y in taking it,

I think . A A M RI NE .

Not more than you have found in giving it .

A E V L RE .

I a . give it in the hope of pleasing you, mad me

A A M RI NE .

An d I shall follow it to give you pleasure .

re i ri n o a k o t t b c ro m . DORINE , g f o I ’ll wait and see what comes of this . SCENE I V ] TARTUFF E

A E V L RE .

This is h ow women love ! So it was all deception when you

A MA RI NE .

’

I . Don t speak of that, beg of you You have told me frankly that I had best accept the husband who is offered to me ; and I declare

I me that shall do so , because you have given that salutary counsel .

A V LERE . I D o not excuse yourself by what do . You had already formed your resolution , and you have seized a frivolous pretext to justify your broken promises .

A A M RI NE . Ah ! that is well said .

A V LERE .

No doubt it is . Your heart has never felt

u tr e love for mine .

A A M RI NE .

Alas you may think so .

A E V L RE . I Yes, yes , well may think so . But my offended soul will be beforehand with your 96 TARTUFFE [A CT II actions ; I know already where to offer both my vows and hand .

MA RIA NE . I do not doubt it ; and the love you merit

A E V L RE . I Pray leave my merit to itself . have little enough , no doubt, since you are faithless to it But I rely upon the kindness another I will have for me ; know whose soul , open to my retreat, will give consent, without false shame, to repair my loss .

A A M RI NE .

r You loss is not so great, and you will easily console yourself . VA LERE

I r shall do my best ; pray be assu ed of that . A heart that can forget us piques our honor ; we must forget it in return ; and if we cannot, I t why then we must at least pretend to do so . ll is a baseness, never to be pardoned, to sti

fo r show love one who has forsaken us .

A A M RI NE .

T e hat is, no doubt, a very lofty and nobl s entiment .

TARTUFFE [A CT II

A E retu rni n . V L RE , g

A nd the plan my mind has n ow conceived is simply following your example .

A A M RI NE .

M so . y example, be it

A E oi n ou t . V L RE , g g

h e E nough ; you shall at once gratified .

A A M RI NE .

So much the better .

A E retu rni n a a i n . V L RE , g g You see me now for the last timein my

A A M RI NE .

A h ! very good .

A E a vi n th e roo m e a t th e V L RE . L e g , h

do or .

A MA RI NE . What ? A E V L RE . Did you not call me ?

A A M RI NE .

I ? you are dreaming . SCENE I V] TARTUFFE 99

A E V L RE .

? I . Well, then go my way Adieu , madame .

o ( Wa lks s lowly to th e d or. )

A M RIA NE .

Adieu monsieur .

M r to a i a ne. DORINE,

A s I r for me , think you have lost you senses I with all this folly . left you both to quarrel it out, to see if something might not come of

. a n e ! Ca tch es Va lére it Hol , seig eur Val re (

th r by e a m . )

A E i n n r i e i to es st . V L RE , f g g ? What do you want of me , Dorine

DORINE .

Come here . A E V L RE .

N r o, my vexation is too great ; do not hinde me from doing the thing she wishes .

DORINE .

A E V L RE . N I o tell you the thing is settled .

DORINE . TARTUFFE [ A CT 11

A A a s d i e. M RI NE , He suffers in seeing me ; my presence drives ’T I mm hence . were best that should go and

oi n a wa leave him here (g g y) .

lea vi n Va lera a nd ru n i n DORINE, g n g

M a a ri ne.

Th e other now ! Where are you going ?

A A M RI NE . L et me alone !

DORINE . Come back ! A MA RI NE .

N n m e. o, no, Dorine, it is in vai to keep

E s A a ide. V L RE ,

h e T very sight of me is torture to her . ’T I were better, no doubt, that should go and

o wa leave her free (g i ng a y) .

lea vin M a ri ana a nd ru nni n DORINE , g g

r l r afte Va é e .

! Th e ! I Again devil is in it all Yes, will keep you . Cease this foolery , and come here

a both of you . ( Ta kes Va lere n d Mari a na by t h e h d a n r n b a n d b i gs th em a ck . )

A E to D ori ne. V L RE , But what is your object ?

TARTUFFE [A CT I I

DORINE .

h ? . ! O you are crazy , both of you Here

. To Va lera ! give me your hands ( ) Come , you

A E i vi n hi s h a nd to D ari ne. V L RE , g g Why do you want my hand ?

ta M a ri a ne. DORINE , ! Come, yours

MA RI A NE . What is the good of all this ?

DORINE . Good heavens ! quick ! come ! You love

each other better than you think .

’ M a ri a n a a nd Va lere h old ea ch oth er s h a nds

r t wi th ou t lookin a t ea fo a ime g c h oth er .

A E t u rni n to M a ri a n e . V L RE , g

D o nothing that is painful to you ; consider

r me only with less hatred . (M a ri a ne tu ns to

h im a n d smi les . )

DORINE . ’t Lovers are mad, is very true . A M

A E ta M a ri a n . V L RE , e i I ? But st ll, had no reason to complain

in Were you not, to say the least, unk d to take pleasure in saying a thing so mortifying ? SCENE IV ] TARTUFFE

MA RIA NE . ? But you, are you not a most ungrateful man

DORINE .

D o leave these arguments to another time , and let us n o w consider h ow to ward off this hateful marriage .

A A M RI NE . T ell us what springs to put in motion .

DORINE .

We must use all, in every way we can .

M r ( To a i a n e) Your father is being fooled .

ler T ti n ( To Va e) hem p o .

To M a ri a ne ( ) But as for you, it would be best if you seemed to give a soft consent to all his

folly ; so that, in case the danger becomes imminent, you can delay the threatened mar

ri a e . g By gaining time, all may be remedied .

S - a ometimes you can be ill , sudden illness which necessitates delay ; you can have met m a funeral, or cracked a irror, or dreamed of

a : st gnant water ; in short, rely on this no one can marry you to another man u nless you first ’ sa es . t I yy But to succeed, is best, think, T to a lere not to be seen together . herefore ( V ) go ; and without delay urge on your friends to 104 TARTUFFE [A CT II

’11 put you in the post they promised you . We

th e ff try to rouse e orts of his brother, and bring S the stepmother over to our ide . Adieu .

E t M a A o ri a n . V L RE, e

h f e m W atever ef orts we may all prepar , y

r I g eatest hope, own, is still in you .

ér A A to a l . M RI NE , V e

’ I s cannot answer for a father s will, but thi

I n I er k ow, will belong to none but Val e .

A E V L RE .

a er You crown me with joy ; and, no m tt who may dare

DORINE . Heavens ! are lovers ever weary of gabbling ?

o I . G away , tell you , go

or wo t n r r A E oi n a ste t h e etu ni n . V L RE, g g p , g A t least

DORINE . What a tongue you have ! (P ushi ng ea ch

u l r a n orci n th m r by the s h o de df g e ap a t . ) You go that way and you this.

E D F A N O SECOND CT.

TARTUFFE [A CT I II

er is amenable to what she says, and may , p

od haps , be sweet at heart upon her . Please G it may be so ! that would be fine indeed ! Your S interests have made her send for him . he means to sound him on this marriage you detest, discover his real feelings , and let him know what horrid strife will follow if he lends hope to such a scheme . His valet tells me he

I h e is praying, so that cannot see him ; but also said that he would soon come down . T herefore, please go away , and leave me here to wait for him . A D MIS . I i can be present at their interv ew .

DORINE .

No they must be alone .

A D MIS .

I not will say a word .

DORINE . h w Nonsense . We all know o you

’ passion ; and that s the very way to plans . Please go .

DA MIS . N I o ; want to see their meeting for myself, I l and wil not get angry . SCENE I I ] TARTUFFE

DORINE .

a re ! n D o How annoying you He is comi g . go away !

D a mis hides i n a ca bi n et a t th e lower end o t e r o f h o m .

5 i/

0 1 ? W TA R UFF DOR T E , INE

A A s s oon a s h e sees D orin e h e T RTUFFE .

s a k lou dl to hi s va let wh o is wi thi n p e s y ,

t h e h ou se .

- Laurent, put away my hair shirt, and also my scourge , and pray that Heaven may enlighten I f . I you any one calls to see me , say that have gone to give alms with my last farthing to the prisoners .

a si de . DORINE ,

' What afl ectation ! and what boastfulness !

TA to D ar ne. RTUFFE , i

D o you want me ?

DORINE .

Yes, to tell you TARTUFFE [ ACT II I

TA RTUFFE .

’ I . Ah ! in God s name , pray you, before you

sa . y a word , take this handkerchief

DORINE . What for ?

TA RTUFFE .

To I cover that bosom which must not see . fill Those are sights that wound the soul, and

our minds with guilty thoughts .

DORI NE . You must be very Open to temptation if flesh

M M W S .

f I mysel am not so ready to take fire . could see you naked from head to foot, and all your

flesh would fail to tempt me .

TA RTUFFE .

or I Put into your speech more modesty ,

n must i stantly leave the room .

DORINE . N ’t I I o , no, is to leave you ; have but a

r word to say . Madame is coming to this lowe

n r room, and asks the favor of an i te view.

TA RTUFFE .

l n Alas ! most wil i gly .

TARTUFFE [A CT I II

TA RTUFFE .

My prayers have not the efficacy needed to draw that mercy from on high ; but I made no pious entreaty toward heaven that did not have your convalescence for its object .

E LMIRE .

Your care for me is far too anxious .

A T RTUFFE . Who could cherish your dear health too much ?

o I dl own T restore it would gla y sacrifice my .

E LMIRE . T hat is carrying Christian charity too far ; but,

n I . i deed, owe you much for all this kindness

TA RTUFFE . I do far less for you than you deserve .

E LMIRE . I have wished to speak to you in private of a certain matter ; and I am very glad to meet you here alone . TA RTUFFE .

A nd I o . T am equally delighted fin.dm myself alone with ame . is an occasi d d although, until to ay, it has not been grante to me . SCENE I II ] TARTUFFE 111

E LMIRE . I ’ What desire is a moment s interview, in which your heart would open itself fully and hide nothing from me .

D a mi s wi th ou t bei n s een sli h tl o ens , g , g y p th e door of th e ca bi n et i n whi ch h e i s concea led

a nd li stens to th e convers a ti on .

A T RTUFFE .

A nd I desire , also, the signal mercy of laying before your eyes my inmost soul, and of assur I ing you , with solemn oath , that the rumors have spread of visitors to your attractions are f not the ef ect of any hatred toward you , but rather of a zealous transport which impels me, and a pure E LMIRE .

That is h ow I take it ; I believe that my sal vation is the object of your care .

’ TA ta ki n E lmi ra s h a n d a nd ss RTUFFE, g pre i i t ng .

Yes, undoubtedly, madame ; and my fervor is such E LMIRE .

Ai e you press my hand too hard . TARTUFFE [ A CT III

A T RTUFFE .

’ T r z o is th ough excess of eal . T give you

m n I u pain could never be y wish ; i deed, wo ld

’ s r s hi s a n E l oone (L ay h d an mi ra s kn ee. )

E LMIRE . z Why do you put your hand there ? “

N .

A T RTUFFE .

To r ff s feel you gown ; the stu is oft .

E LMIRE .

’ Ah ! for Heaven s sakW ery ’ P u shes ba ck er ch a i r Ta r u e ticklish . ( h . t fi a dva nces hi s . )

’ TA n eri n E lmi ra s i ch u . RTUFFE , fi g g f H ow marvellously fine is this embroidery ! With what miraculous art they work in these

s N day . ever, in any age, were such things better done .

E LMIRE .

T r . our f hat is t ue But let us talk of af air . They say my husband wishes to take back his

r I s word, and marry you to his daughte . it T true ? ell me . A T RTUFFE .

sa . did y something of it But, to speak

a not m dame, that is the ap iness for hne w “ p

AJM X 4 1

TARTUFFE [A CT I I I

ing that you hindered my salvation . But, I finally, came to know, endearing beauty, that

such a passion might not be guilty, but was,

’ T was indeed, compatible with purity . then

I I t I own yielded my whole heart to you . is , , ff a great audacity to dare to o er you that heart .

But my desires rely upon your kindness, and

ff 0 c c I n not on the vain e orts Ions . m m you is all my hope , ywelfare, y tranquillity .

n O you depends my blessedness, or misery ; and

I n ow am to be , by your decision, happy, if — r . you will, w etched, if it pleases you

E LMIRE .

T n his declaration is indeed galla t ; but it is,

to tell the truth , somewhat surprising . You

ought, it seems to me , to guard your breast from

such emotions, and reason more on a design like A this . godly man whom everybody calls

TA RTUFFE . I Because am devout, W m

ou r eaxenl _ c arms and when a man beholds y _ h y h

‘ a s d . I him g tj w figpg , he no longer reasons know that such address from me seems strange ; t I ’m but, madame , af er all, not an angel ; and I if you blame the avowal have made , you must N lay the fault upon your sweet attractions . o SCENE II I] TARTUFFE 115 sooner did I see their more than human splendor than you became the sovereign ruler of my i n

Th e fa ward being . inef ble sweetness of your gentle eyes subdued th e resistance on which my heart resolved ; it vanquished all, fasts , prayers, and tears, and turned my hopes and wishes to M your charms . y eyes, my sighs have told you

n ow this a score of times ; but , to express it fully, I I f employ my voice . you will ponder with a gracious mind the sufferings of your most u n worthy slave , and grant them consolation, if to I my nothingness you deign abase yourself, will ! ever give you, oh sweet enchantress unparalleled devotion . Your honor shall run no risks with

Th e me ; you need fear no exposure . young court

n galla ts whom the women worship, are proud of T their deeds and boastful in their speech . hey plume themsel ves on their successes ; they win no favors they do not divulge ; and their indeli cate tongues, to which so much is trusted, dis t honor the altars a which they worship . But men of another stamp love with discreet devo tion ; with them, a woman may be sure of

Th e we secrecy . care take to guard our own good name is guarantee enough for her we love .

I n a us she finds, when she ccepts our heart, love without scandal, pleasures without dread . TARTUFFE [A CT I II

E LMIRE .

I have listened to what you say ; and your rhetoric explains itself quite clearly to my

D o I mind . you not fear may incline to tell th e knowledge of a love like yours may change the friendship he n ow feels for you ?

TA RTUFFE .

N - I o, you are too kind hearted . know that you will pardon my temerity you will excu se as human frailty these violent transports of a love that wounds you , and you will own, remem bering your charms, that eyes are not blind, and that a man is flesh .

E LMIRE . f Others, perhaps, might take the matter dif er I ently , but my discretion can maintain itself .

I t I 11 . return want a pled is, to W W W

s e yourself, the unjust power which gggk j am tak m m u m “ m m fi w the prospects of another man to enrich your

OWD .

118 TARTUFFE [A CT I II

M that of Valere . y father must be undeceived

th e about traitor, and Heaven has given me the

u I r means to ndeceive him . am g ateful indeed for this occasion ; it is too favorable to be

’ neglected ; t would be deserving every loss to have it in my hand and not to use it .

E LMIRE . Damis A D MIS . N I o , if you please ; must act out myself .

My soul is now on th e top- wave of joy ! in vain would you persuade me to forego the pleasures I of my revenge . shall expose this matter with

now out delay . Here comes my father , as if

s to atisfy my wish .

SCE NE FI FTH

ORGO E LM R DA M S TA R UFF N, I E , I , T E

DA MIS . F ather, we welcome your arrival with an incident that has just occurred, and which will much surprise you . You are finely paid for all ! your courtesies Monsieur, here, returns your tenderness with noble recompense ! His zeal

’ for you has just declared itself ; t i s nothing less SCENE V I ] TARTUFFE 119

I than seeking to dishonor you . found him here add ama the bold avowal of

love . Her temper is so gentle and her heart is so discreet, that she desires with all her I strength to keep this secret . But will not I condone such insolence . think it wrong to you to hide it . E LMIRE . I Yes, hold that never should a wife di sturb ’ I t her husband s peace with such vain tales .

’ is not there that women s honor lies ; it is enough for us that we are able to defend our

T s selves . hese are my sentiment ; and you S would not have poken, Damis, as you did if

n E t I had any i fluence over you . ( xi )

SCE NE SIXTH

ORGO DA M S TA R UFF N , I , T E

ORGON . I ? Oh ! What have heard , heaven believable

TA RTUFFE .

I u ilt Yes, my brother, am wicked y, a

e miserable sinn r, filled with ini uit the great est criminal th E ach moment of 120 TARTUFFE [A CT I I I

’ my life is stained with evil ; t is but a mass of I crime and filth . see that Heaven, for my chastisement, wills to mortify me upon this occasion, and whatever sin is charged against m e I must not let my pride defend me .

Believe what you are told ; yield to your wrath ,

m o u N and drive me fro y like a criminal . o shame can be my portion but what my sinful so ul deserves yet more .

o i s so t h n . ORGON , A h ! traitor, do you dare to stain the white ness of his virtue by your lies ?

DA MIS .

Wha t ! can the feigned meekness of that hypocrite make you deny

ORGON .

Hush ! cursed tongue .

A T RTUFFE . A h ! let him speak ; you blame him wrong ’T fully . were wiser to believe his tale . Why be , after the hearing of such facts , so favorable

’ to me ? D o you really know of what I m

? A re capable you not trusting, brother, to the outward show, thinking me good by what you ? N only see o, no, you let yourself be tricked

122 TARTUFFE [ A CT I I I

ORGON . Say but another word and I will strike you down . A T RTUFFE .

’ Brother, in God s name , do not show such I f violence . would rather suf er any torture than that he bore for me the merest scratch .

t o h is son . ORGON, Ungrateful wretch !

TA RTUFFE . m I f N hi . o, leave in peace need be, on my knees I pray you pardon him

a lso a lli n on h i s kn ees a n d c la s ORGON, f g p

' i Ta rtu ng fi e .

! . To hi s son Alas you mock me ( ) Knave , see his goodness ! A D MIS . A nd so

ORGON . Silence ! A D MIS . What ! am I

ORGON . S I ! I ilence , say know the motive that leads you to attack him . You hate him , all

n of you ; wife , childre , servants are open Som e V I ] TARTUFFE 123

im u dentl mouthed against him . You p set

B ut person from my house . the more efforts

that you make to banish him, the more will I I employ to keep him here . shall hasten now m his arriage to my daughter, and thus

confound the pride of all my family .

A D MIS . You think you can force her to accept his hand

ORGON .

Yes, traitor, and this evening, too , to anger

A h ! I all you . will brave you , and let you

I . know that will be obeyed, being your master

Come, retract your words, and instantly, you knave down on your knees and beg his pardon .

DA MIS . ? I l Who ask pardon of that scoundre , who, with base imposture

ORGON . ! Ha you resist, you reprobate, and dare insult f ’ him ? A stick ! a stick ! ( To Ta rtufi e) Don t

! O t ! I sa ! — ou hold me back p out, y t

house , and never have the audacity to enter it . TARTUFFE [A CT II I

DA MIS I Yes, will go , but

ORGON .

! m ! I n Q uick out of y sight cut you, villai , I from my will, and more than that, curse you !

SCE NE SE VE NTH

ORGO TA R UFF N, T E

ORGON .

To insult in such a way, a saintly man !

TA RTUFFE . Oh I , Heaven forgive him even as forgive him ! ( To Organ ) If you could but know with what the blac en

ORGON .

TA RTUFFE .

Th e mere perception of this ingratitude is to my soul so hard a punishment —the horror — in which I hold it my heart is wrung so that I cannot speak ; methinks that I shall die of this

TARTUFFE [A CT I II

TA RTUFFE .

Ah a ! my brother, a woman can easily misle d ’ i a husband s m nd .

ORGON . N ! o, no A T RT UFFE .

et r e L me go at once, and by my absence emov all cause for thus attacking me .

ORGON .

N n . o, you shall stay ; my life depends upo it

TA RTUFFE . A I ? las ! must thus mortify myself Yet, if you would only

ORGON .

A T RTUFFE . S I l o be it ; wil say no more . But I see I plainly how ought to act . Honor is a deli cate thing ; and friendship binds me to prevent

EL I EM all grounds for doubt . shall avoid our wife, and you will see me

ORGON . No ! in the face of all you shall be with her

. To n constantly antago ize twhe world is my I reat happiness . wish her to be seen with g W SCENE V I I ] TARTUFFE 127

W But that is not the whole

To th e of what I wish . brave the world h better, am resolved to have no other eir

I n ow I n than you ; and shall proceed , some safe manner, to make you the gift of all my A property . good an friend, whom I f y I a , M , W You will accept, I ? hope , what propose

TA RTUFFE . God ’s will be done in all things l

ORGON .

Poor man ! Let us go at once and have the

n a r now papers draw . M y envious hea ts burst with spite !

E N D OF A CT THIRD ! 128 TARTUFFE [A CT IV

fi st f ourth

SCE NE FI RST

CLEA TA R UFF NTE , T E

EA CL NTE . YE S , all the world is talking of it ; and the discussions thus caused are , you may believe me, I monsieur, not to your honor . consider this momen t suitable to tell you plainly what I I think in a coupleof words . do not examine too closely the tales that are told ; I go behind

th e L et them , and take matter at its worst . us suppose that Damis has not behaved well to you ; that he has even blamed you wrongfully .

I s it not the duty of Christians to forgive, and to extinguish in their breasts all desire for ? t vengeance Ought you to allow, as the frui

of this quarrel . that a son should be driven ’ ? I from his father s house tell you again , I and speak sincerely, there is no one , great I f or small , who is not scandalized by it .

you take my advice , you will heal the matter S and not drive it thus to extremities . acrifice

God to your wrath to , and restore the son his

’ er s a r fath f vo .

TARTUFFE [A CT I v

world may think of a good action hinder the ? N doing of it o, no ; let us do that which

s Heaven prescribes, and cease to cloud our mind

s with other doubt ,

A T RTUFFE . I have said already that my own heart par dons him, and that is doing , monsieur, what

Heaven commands . But after the scandal and the insult of to-day Heaven does not order me e hi m to liv with .

EA CL NTE . Does it order you to turn a willing ear to

’ what his father s whim has threatened, and to accept a gift of property to which both law and equity deny your claim ?

A T RTUFFE .

Those wh o know me will never think it is

ul Th e the action of a selfish so . goods of this world have no charms for me ; their treach erou s I f I splendor does not dazzle me . have brought myself to take the wealth the father I seeks to give me it is, in truth, because fear that all this property may fall to wicked hands ; for there are persons here who, if they share it,

l ut n ot wi l p it to bad use in worldly ways, and SCENE I] TARTUFFE 131

I ’ employ it, as shall do, for Heaven s glory and the good of others .

EA CL NTE . ! Hey monsieur, lay aside these sensitive fears, to which a lawful heir may well object . d Permit him, without this great solicitu e , to be , at his own peril, the possessor of his pro perty ; reflect that it were better he misused it than that you should have the credit of defraud I ing him . am surprised that you have even

an listened to this proposal without disquiet . C it be that true religion has any doctrine by which to rob legitimate heirs ? I f heaven has pu withiu ou r heart some insurmountable t/ barrier to intercourse with Damis would it not be be tter to withdraw with honor and discretion from this house , rather than permit the son to

ou be driven from it, without a cause on r ? account Believe me , that is the duty of an honest man , monsieur .

TA RTUFFE .

’ - t Monsieur, it is half past three o clock ; cer ain

religious duties call me to my room . You will

excuse me if I leave you thus abruptly .

EA a lon e. CL NTE , TA RTUFFE [A er W m

E LM R MA R A CLfiA NTE DOR I E , I NE , , INE

l to ea e. DORINE , C n t F ’ or pity s sake, monsieur, help us to save

arian o n Th e M ; her soul is in mortal a guish . betrothal her father has settled for to-night is

n w driving her to despair . He is coming o . I Join us, entreat you , in trying to shake , by force or fraud, this wretched scheme which so distresses us .

ORGO E LM R MA R I A CLfiA NTE DOR N, I E , NE , , INE

ORGON . h I A ! am glad to find you all assembled . ( To Ma ri a n e) I bring something in this contract that will make you happy . You know already I what mean .

A A on h er knees to r an . M RI NE , O g Father ! in the name of Heaven who knows my misery, by all that can touch your heart, relax your parental rights, release me from obedience ; do not compel me by this harsh rule to complain to Heaven of what I owe to you !

TA RTUFFE [A c r I V

DORINE .

ORGON . S Be silent, you peak to your equals . forbid you here to dare to say a word .

A CLE NTE . I f you will suffer me to answer with a counsel

ORGON .

in Brother, your counsels are the best the world ; they are always reasonable and I respect them . But you must excuse me if, in this case ,

I do not use them .

E to r hu s n h ba d. LMIRE, e S I I eeing what see , scarce know what to say .

ou . Your blindness, truly , makes me admire y

You must be enamoured of that man, biased

- saw . indeed , if you deny the fact you to day

OR G ON . I I I do deny it ; see below the surface . know your kindness for that rogue m son ou were afraid to disavow the trick he tried to play

t . Y on hat good man ou- were too to e h believed ; had that t ing happe n have f’ a gregmotio . f ‘ m fi fl f f. SCENE I II] TARTUFFE

E LMIRE . What ! must a woman ’s honor take alarm at the mere avowal of an amorous passion ! Must she reply with fire in her eyes and anger on her tongue to all who thus approach her ? A s for

I h ub me , simply laughed at those proposals ; a bub about such things does not please me ; I

like that we should show our virtue quietly .

’ I m not in favor of those sa vage prudes Whose

honor arms itself with teeth and claws, and

’

. N scratches a man s face at his first word o,

Heaven preserve me from that sort of chastity .

I w I be do not want the virtue of a shre , for lieve a cold indifference is not less certain to

repulse a heart .

ORGON .

I know the truth ; and I shall make no

change .

E LMIRE .

I Again I say admire that strange weakness . But h ow would our credulit re 1 i made you see that what you have been told is true .

ORGON .

E LMIRE . 136 TARTUFFE [A er I V

ORGON . N onsense .

E LMIRE . But suppose I found a way to make you see it in the clearest light ?

ORGON . Tales idle tales !

E LMIRE .

Oh ! . I , what a man But answer me am I not asking you for faith in us ; say, suppose I that here, by steps that may take, you were to clearly see , and clearly hear, the truth , what would you then say of your pious man ?

ORGON . I n that case I should say I should say nothing, for it cannot be truth .

E LMIRE .

But this is going too far ; you accuse my lips

n of falsehood . Without goi g farther you must, to please me, let me make you a witness of all that has been said .

ORGON .

S . I a Now o be it t ke you at your word .

h ow let us see your cleverness, and you will fulfil the promise you have made .

TARTUFFE [Ac r 1v

E LMIRE . h ! O , good heavens do let me manage it . I have my plan in my head, and you shall I judge of it . Put yourself there, say ; and t while there , be careful tha you are neither seen nor heard .

ORGON .

I confess my amiability is great ; but you shall carry out your enterprise .

E LMIRE .

An d I you shall have nothing, as think , to

To h er h u sba n u n r t say against it . ( d de h e t a ble) But I am n ow to touch a peculiar matter, and you must not be scandalized in any

I ou way . Whatever may say, y must approve . h I W at do is done to convince you, according I to my promise . must by blandishments (since I am forced to use them) induce that hypo

r t o ff I c i e to lay his mask . must encourage the bold desires of his love , and give free scope to

u his temerity . But , as it is for yo r sake only , and the better to confound him , that my heart I will feign to answer to his wishes, shall cease my part the moment that you i eld ; the matter SCENE V] TARTUFFE 139 wife when matters have gone far enough ; you must not expose me farther than is n eedful to T disabuse your mind . hese are your interests ;

n . you must be master of them . He is comi g

’

Keep still, and do not let yourself be seen .

TA R UFF E LM R ORGO under the ta ble T E , I E , N,

TA RTUFFE I am told that you desire to see me here .

E LMIRE . I Yes ; have certain secret things to say .

th e we But close door before talk together, and w ‘ look about for fear e be disturbed . ( Ta rtufi e

o s t e door a nd clos es i t th n r r e to h e etu ns . g , ) A scene like that we had this morning is not, I assuredly , the thing we want ; never did hear of such a strange surprise . Damis alarmed me greatly on your behalf ; you saw h ow I endeav ored to restrain his action and to calm his wrath .

M I e y trouble so possessed me that neglect d, it is true , to deny his charge ; but, thanks to

Heaven, that very thing has turned out for the

n w h best ; matters are o much safer . T e esteem in which my husband holds you stayed the 140 TARTUFFE [ A CT I V

I storm, and he will never, am sure , distrust

I n you . fact, to brave the error of false judg ments, he wishes us to be together always . T I hat is why am able, without fear of blame ,

o u to be with y now, shut in alone ; also it enables me to show a heart too ready, perhaps, to recognize your ardor .

A T RTUFFE .

S n diffi uch la guage , madame , is somewhat cult to understand ; you spoke this morning in another style .

E LMIRE .

A h ! h ow if such refusal made you angry , little you can know the heart of woman , or what it really means when it presents so feeble a de

! Our fence modesty will always combat, at a first w avo al , the tender sentiments expressed to us . No matter h ow we justify the love that

it . We must defend ourselves at first ; but,

even so, our way of doing it tells plainly that

our hearts can yield ; and while our lips, in

honor, must deny our wishes, denials of that

’ t n sort may promise all . Doubtless is maki g a i I I too free confess on ; pay , fear, but little I heed to shame ; but, since the word is said, ask you this : should I have tried to silence

142 TARTUFFE [A CT I V

E a ter cou h i n to wa rn er h u sba nd. LMIRE, f g g h What ? must you hurry on with such rapid ity ? Must you exhaust the heart at once of all its tenderness ? When one has forced one ’s self to make so tender an avowal, must we be told

th a t that is not enough , that you will not be satisfied unless the highest favors of all are granted ?

TA RTUFFE .

Th e we less deserve , the less we dare to hope . Desires cannot be satisfied with words ; a fate so glorious may well be doubted ; we need to who feel that I so little merit your great good

I . I ness, doubt the reward of my temerity m can trust nothing, mada e , until by actual realities my love has been convinced .

E LMIRE . Good heavens YOW W ; into what nameless trouble it has cast my soul ! What mighty empire it can gain upon a heart ; and with what violence it wills what it desires ! H ow can a Wm do not give her time to breathe ! I s it becoming

rou hl in you to g to force, without com

u p nction, the thing you ask for, and to abuse, SCENE v1 TARTUFFE 14 3

f by these resistless ef orts, the weakness that you see is felt for you ?

A T RTUFFE .

But if you do , indeed, see with so kind an eye my humble homage , why refuse the certain proof I ask ? E LMIRE .

° But h ow can I consent to wha sh without offendin Heaven of which you speak — g , so offsII?

TA RTUFFE .

I f ou fr m l e Heaven is all that turns y gg y , I can remove that obstacle with ease it need h not force you to and your eart .

E LMIRE .

A T RTUFFE . I h I can disperse t ose fears, madame ; know N M s les i cm . the art of conquer ng all suchw p is

H o t true that eaven forbids some j yw , even

f . T so , it of ers compromise rue knowledge ex

‘tends the limits of our conscience according to our needs ; it rectifies the evil of our actions T by pureness of intention . hese are secrets, I madame, in which will instruct you ; you 144 TARTUFFE [ A CT I V

f ratif have only to suf er me to guide you . G I be not afraid . will answer e the evil on

troublesome .

E LMIRE .

I s ff . Yes, u er much

TA RTUFFE . Will it please you to try this liquorice ?

E LMIRE . h T e cough is obstinate . I see plainly that

all the liquorice in the world will do no good .

TA RTUFFE . h A that is sad . E LMIRE .

Yes ; more than can be told .

TA RTUFFE .

now But, at least, your scruples are removed ? E do assure you of the utmost secrecy . vil the scandal in the

TARTUFFE [A CT Iv

E LMIRE . N I o matter ; go out, beg of you , r l su e ; look all about you very carefu ly .

ORGO E LM R N, I E

ORGON . I N He is, own it, an abominable man . ever shall I recover from this ! it overwhelms me !

E LMIRE .

But why come out so soon ? You are n ot

’ o t in earnest . G back beneath that cloth ; is not yet time ; wait for the end, and see things

u still more certain . Pray do not tr st to mere conjecture .

ORGON . N o, no ; nothing more wicked ever came from hell .

E LMIRE .

But you ought not to be too ready to believe .

e Allow W you yield . i staken Makfl m hm w w .

' E lmi re p u ts Org an beh i n d h er a s Ta rtufi e

enters . S CENE V II] TARTUFFE 147

TA R UFF E LMI R ORGO T E , E , N

TA n ot s eei n Or an . RTUFFE , g g ll A things are favorable, madame, to my I happiness . have looked around the whole N apartment . o one is there , and my enraptured soul

' Wh i le Ta rtufi e a dva nces wi th op en a rms to embra ce E lmi ra s h e m oves a si de a n d h e s ees

Organ . '

s to i n Ta rtu e . ORGON, pp g fi Gently ! your amorous desires carry yOu too

wa far ; you should not thus give y to passion . A h ! ah ! my godly man ! so this is what you do for me : you marry my dau h ter covet my wife ! Ha ! to what tem tati r aba n

0 11“ t don Loui s w and sincere ; I thought the rest would change w 1 18 i the r tone . But here test mony that need I go no farther ; hold to this ; for my part, it is I all want . E ta Ta rtu e LMIRE, fi .

— ‘ That whict j W I- did n ot mean ; the things that h apm led- mes to treat you

thus . TA t a r O an . RTUFFE, g What ! can yo u believe TARTUFFE [A CT IV

ORGON .

E ! no I ut nough words, beg . O house ; and without ceremony, too .

A T RTUFFE . My intention was

ORGON . Your speeches have no longer any value W m 1nstantl Leave y homuse y. “ M

TA RTUFFE . I t is for you to h aw your The I elf its master . house is mine and will

’ bii kii o w I l see ake y it . wi l let you it is in w vain you pick a qg arneL aa ak eJh ese base e a i s v spp . You are not where you think your i n f I self of ering me these insults . have the means to frustrate and to punish such imposture ;

I wilLa uen ej l e fl ew e n - o u—w g y mng , and make all those W ee repent th es m v .

E LM R I E ,

E LMIRE . What words are those ? What can he mean by what he says ?

Sc u m V III] TARTUFFE 149

ORGON .

My God! it stupefies me ; thi s is no laughing matter . E LMIRE . What is it ?

ORGON .

l n T I see my fol y in the thi gs he says . hat gift besets my mind .

E LMIRE .

ORGON .

e Yes, the deed is done . But there is som

thing else that makes me more uneasy still .

E LMIRE . What is it ?

ORGON . w You shall kno all . But let me see at once

a if certain casket is still safe upstairs .

E ND OF A T FOURTH C . 150 TARTUFFE [A CT v

S C E N E F I R S T

ORGO CLEA N, NTE

CLEA NTE .

WHE RE are you hurrying ?

ORGON .

Alas ! I know not .

EA CL NTE .

I t we seems to me , should consult at once as to our wisest course under the circumstances .

ORGON .

Th e loss of that casket chiefly troubles me ; I feel it more than all the rest .

CLEA NTE . Then there was some important secret in it ?

ORGON .

l was m b — g entrusted to y care y Argas, the H friend I pitied . e laced it in my hands Iii with the utmost secrecy before he fled . it

152 TA RTUFFE [A CT V

’ ! t n ow ! nothing Well, is all over with me I renou nce terc ou r with iou en ; I henceforth hold such characters in horror, and I will be a very devil in pursuit of them .

CLEA NTE .

! now Well, well here you yield to one of your excitements ; you cannot keep an even temperature ; your mind is never strictly just .

Always from one extreme you fly to another . You see your error ; you admit that you were taken in by cant ; but is it necessary , in order to correct your blunder, that you should rush

' into a still worse error, and confound the hearts of all religious men with that of a treacherous vagabond ? What ! because a ras cal dupes you boldly beneath a pompous show of sanctimonious piety, must all the world be ? like him , and no true godly men be found

Leave such absurd conclusions to free -thinkers ;

. B distinguish virtue from its counterfeit _ e

confid mai Q DJ L‘ careful not to ive 1 our _ j LshlI , keep to th ha medium that is wise ;

r but be careful, also, not to insult the t uly I f pious man . you must fall into extremes,

better the one you lately left . SCENE II ] TARTUFE E 153

ORGO TE A M S N, , I

DA MIS .

F r a athe is it true that a vill in threatens you, that h e has wiped your benefactions from his

‘ mind, and his base soul, deserving of disgust, turns all your kindness into arms against you ?

ORGON .

f a Yes, my son ; and the suf ering he has c used

n me is u paralleled .

DA MIS .

’ Leave him to me ; I ll cut his ears off ! Against his insolence no quarter should be I t given . is my duty with one blow to free I ’ll you . strike him down and end the matter .

EA CL NTE . ! ’ if Ha that is young men s talk . Moderate ,

s you please , these dashing transport . We live beneath a reign and in an age when violence is not the win our ri s way to ght . TARTUFFE [A CT v

MA DA M R LL ORGO E LM I R CLEANI' ‘E E PE NE E , N, E , ,

MA R A DA M I S DOR I NE , , INE

MA DA ME PERNELLE .

What i s all this ? I have heard dreadful things .

ORGON .

Yes, dreadful things , to which mine eyes bear witness . You see the payment here of all my I kindness . With hearty zeal succor a man in poverty ; I take him to my home and treat him I like a brother ; load him, day by day, with d benefits, give him my aughter and all my I property ; and while do so , the villam , the traitor, attempts his foul design of tampering

A nd with my wife . , not content with such base actions, he dares to turn my benefits against me , and for my ruin means to use the advantages with which my un wise goodness armed him . He seeks to drive us from this I house , which transferred to him, and bring me to the state from which I rescued him .

DORINE . Poor man

TARTUFFE [A CT v

MA D A ME PERNELLE . They have invented these foolish tales against him .

ORGON .

I saw I told you that those facts myself.

MA DA ME PERNELLE .

Th e malice of reviling minds is great .

ORGON . Mother ! you ’ll drive me crazy ! I tell you that I saw with my own eyes the audacious crime . A MA D ME PERNELLE .

Th e venom of their tongues is never lacking ; and nothing here below escapes it .

ORGON . I There is no sense in what you say . have

I w o wn seen , tell you , seen , seen ith my eyes, what is called seen Must I deafen you with I ’ m ? the word, and shout it till hoarse

A A M D ME PERNELLE .

But half the time appearances da cc i e us ; we must not always judge by what we see . P M

OR GON . I am furiou s ! SCENE III ] TARTUFFE

A A M D ME P ERNELLE .

Human nature is given to suspicion ; good e deeds are frequently interpret d as vice .

ORGON .

Yes ! I ought to interpret as a charitable deed the desire to embrace my wife !

A MA D ME PERNELLE .

Before you accuse another, you ought to have just cause for doing so ; you should wait until your eyes are sure of things .

ORGON .

Th e devil ! h ow would you have them sure ? I I Must wait until actually see Mother, you will make me say some foolish thing .

A A M D ME PERNELLE .

His soul is filled with far too pure a zeal ; I

’ can t at all admit into my mind that he e ver wished to do the things you say .

ORGON . There ! there ! if you were not my mother I

’ I so r don t know what might not say, ang y am I ! 158 TARTUFF E [A CT v

ta Or a . DORINE , g n

’ T u is the j st requital, monsieur, of all things T here below . ime was when you would not

n ow — b believe, and none elieve you .

' ‘ CL EA N I E . We are losing time on this mere nonsense when we ought to be taking measures of de T ’ m fence . hat scoundrel s threat ust not be slumbered on . A D MIS . Surely his effrontery dares not go so far ?

E LMIRE . N I . o, cannot believe he will persist His base ingratitude would be too visible .

EA t o Or an . CL NTE , g

’ Don t trust to that ; he will have ways to

I n make his cause seem right . any case, the weight of a cabal embarrasses a man in serious I trouble . say again, armed as he is with what he holds from you , you must not drive him to extremities .

ORGON .

Tru e ; but what am I to do ? Th e traitor triumphs in the fact that I was not master of my indignation .

160 TARTUFFE [A CT v

YA MONSIEUR LO L .

I am not here to trouble him; my coming will not I d a r , think, isplease him ; in fact, I m he e

m r ll on a atte for which he wi be glad .

DORINE .

r a You n me, if you please .

YA MONSIEUR LO L .

Tell him only that I come from Monsieur

f ood T r u . a t f e, for his

‘ D OE I N E retu rn i n to Or an , g g

I t n is a man with a civil ma ner, who comes T f from Monsieur artuf e on a matter for which, he says, you will be glad .

EA ta Or an . CL NTE, g You ought to see the man and find out what he wants .

léa n ta e. ORGON, O t I t may be that he comes to heal the matter . What feelings do you think I ought to show ?

EA CL NTE .

Your indigg ation must be expressed ; if he speaks of c ompromis you should listen to gw m “ W M him . 80 m mI V] TARTUFFE 161

YA a r an . MONSIEUR LO L, t O g

u . M a con Yo r servant, monsieur y Heaven

be found all those who seek to injure you, and I as favorable to your interests as desire .

’

G law to Clea nte. OR ON , T hat civil opening agrees with my opinion , and shows already the prospect of a compromise .

YA MONSIEUR LO L .

Your family , monsieur, is always dear to me w ’ I was, you kno , your father s servant .

ORGON .

o I M nsieur, am much ashamed and ask your I w pardon, but do not kno you or recall your name .

A MONSIEUR LOY L . N My name is Loyal ; a native of ormandy .

’ f offic er — in I am sherif s spite of envy . For I forty years have , thanks be to Heaven , per

I n ow formed my duties with much credit . mi come , monsieur, with your per ssion, to serve an ordi nance

ORGON . Wh at ! you are here to

l l TA RTUFFE [A CT v

MONSIEUR LOYA L . T Monsieur, no anger . his is merely a sum

ou mons, an order to vacate this house both y and yours to remove our furniture , and to W y i — h e make TREE for others W thout dela as t law requires . M ~M M ORGON . I ! to leave this house ?

YA MONSIEUR LO L .

. The Yes, monsieur, if you please house belongs, as you know, without contestation, to

' artu fie the good Monsieur T . He is henceforth th ro i lord and master of all lande e y, in virtue of a contract which ow i my n. I t hands . is in proper legal form, and there is nothing to say against it .

A ta M onsi eu r L o a l . D MIS , y ! I ! This impudence is great admire it, faith

YA a D a mis . MONSIEUR LO L , t

n I . Mo sieur, have nothing to say to you (P ai n ti ng ta Organ ) My words are addressed to monsieur ; he is calm and reasonable ; he M M O W “ knows the duty of a righteous man too well to l w wish to oppose the a .

164 TARTUFFE [A CT v

ORGON .

What can be more pai nful than to be ordered to leave my home ?

YA MONSIEUR LO L .

I I t give you time . will postpone until o I morrow the execution of the ordinance . shall

- o en come to nig ht with ten fg nw , without noise or scandal, and slee here . You will, for - - “ M “ ’ ni s o for sake, hand me, if you please, before y u

t f t e. I go to bed, lggi Q A h e hous shall be M Eareful N be not to disturb you . othing will

- allowed that is unseemly . But to morrow morn ing you must make haste to clear these premises, M I to the last utensil . y men shall help you ;

n n will bri g stro g men, able to put your property N I outside at once . o one , think, could treat you better than I do ; and as I show you this

I u extreme indulgence tr st you will return it,

in monsieur, by not disturbing me any way

u while I perform my d ties .

a side. ORGON, ’d I give, with all my heart, here , on the spot , a hundred of my last remaining crowns if

’ I could plant a mighty blow on the brute s muzz le ! S CENE I V] TARTUFFE

' ‘ L EA N I E low to r an . C , O g

Hush ! spoil nothing .

A D MIS .

Hardly can I contain myself ! What audacity!

My hands are itching to be at him .

DORINE .

! a Hey Monsieur Loyal, on your broad back l ittle beating, seems to me, would do no harm .

A MONSIEUR LOY L . S uch language , my dear, is liable to punish ment decrees are issued against women also .

EA to M ons ieu r L o a l . CL NTE, y

Come, monsieur , make an end of this ; give

’ me the papers, and leave us, for Heaven s sake .

MONSIEUR LOYA L .

Till we meet again ! Heaven keep you all in peace .

ORGON .

a n c n th e man who M y Heave onfou d you, and sent you ! TARTUFFE [A er v

ORGO MA DA M R LL E LM R CLEA N, E PE NE E , I E , NTE ,

MA R A DA M S DOR I NE , I , INE

ORGON .

n ow I Well, mother ; you see that was right .

ff D o You can judge of all the rest by this a air. you admit his treachery no w ?

A A M D ME PERNELLE . — I am bewildered I am aghast ! Can such thin gs be ?

o r an . DORINE , t O g You were wrong when you pitied and pro tected n ow him , and you are wrong to be so R angry . emember that his pious purposes are

’ helped by what he does ; his virtue s crow is love to others ; he knows h o w riches can corrupt mankind , and in pure charity he takes away so great an obstacle to your salvation .

ORGON .

Be silent ! That is an order I give you

r f equently .

EA ta r an . CL NTE , O g

Let in hi s us seek some legal counsel t matter .

168 TARTUFFE [A c r v

T ff r instantly ; and artu e is ordered, for its bette f execution , to accompany the o ficer .

CLEA NTE .

This is the weapon by which he secures his rights ! Th e traitor means in this way to make

himself master of your property .

ORGON .

Th e I man is a wicked being, admit it.

A E V L RE .

h n T e slightest dallyi g may be fatal . My

carriage is at the door to take you hence , and I have brought a thousand louis for your con

n n L et ve i e ce . us lose no time ; the attack is violent ; nothing can parry such a blow as thi s

I ofl er but flight . to conduct you to a place of I safety, and ask that may share to the very end your fli ght .

ORGON .

l h ow I A as, much owe to your kind thought fulness ! I must take another time to thank I you , but pray Heaven in its mercy to reward,

n u . F w all some day, your ge ero s service are ell, of you ; take care of everything .

CLEA NTE . Go at once ; we will attend to all there is to do . SCENE VI I] TARTUFFE

TA R UFF A N OFF R OF OL ORGO MA DA M T E , ICE P ICE , N, E P E E NE L LE E LM R CLEA MA R A VA LER , I E , NTE , I NE , E , DA M I S DOR , INE

TA sto i n Or an . RTUFFE, pp g g

Gently, monsieur, gently ; not so fast . You

n I n have not far to go to find your lodgi gs .

’ n ou r — . the pri ce s y are ap “isvocfi vnfi en r

ORGON . Traitor ! you have kept this final stroke for

. T c the last his is the blow, you wret h, by which you cru sh me ; this is the crown of your disloyalty TA RTUFFE .

You r insults cannot no w embitter me ; I have

h ow ff learned of Heaven to su er all .

E CL A NTE . Your magnanimity is great indeed !

A D MIS . Ha ! with what impudence th e scoundrel talks of Heaven !

TA RTUFFE . Your fiery passions cannot move me ; my single thou ht is h ow to do m d 170 TARTUFFE [A CT v

A A M RI NE . A noble duty you have undertaken here ! you ’ll find great glory in it !

TA RTUFFE . A ll tasks are glorious when ordered by the power who sends me .

ORGON .

n Have you no memory , u grateful man , that my hand drew you from a state of misery ?

TA RTUFFE . I I know the succor received, but my first duty is to my prince ; the just demands of that most sacred duty must stifle in my heart mere gratitude ; and I would sacrifice to these all

as powerful ties , parents, wife, m self ” friends y well . E LMIRE . I mpostor

DORINE .

H ow well he knows with treacherous art to make himself a cloak of all we most revere .

EA to Ta rtu e. CL NTE, fi

h ow But if the zeal you boast of is so great, happens it you gave no sign of duty to your prince until your benefactor h ad surprised you

172 TARTUFFE [A CT v

—a beneath a prince the foe of fraud, prince whose eyes can penetrate all hearts ; whose mind the art of no impostor can deceive . His great soul , gifted with a clear discernment,

I n casts a straight glance on all things . him

his firm no bias gains admittance , and mind falls into no excess . He gives to righteous men immortal glory but without blindness does he show his zeal ; love for the truly good in no way shuts his eyes to all the baseness of T i a hypocrite . h s one was powerless to mislead ~

a him ; those wily schemes he inst ntly detected, discerning with his keen sagacity the inmost folds of that most treacherous heart . Coming to denounce you, the wretch betra ed himself ; and by the stroke of some high justice the " discovered him, PW be a great impostor, of whose misdeeds under ormed I n another name he was_ i _ f a word , - n ' tm ah arch, detesting his disloyalty and base in gratitude to you ( added to all his other evil deeds) ordered me to follow him here and s ee to what lengths his impudence would go, and then to do justice on him for your sake . Yes, I am ordered to take from his person tpg pap ers which he boasts of place them in

. Th e h erei m u r y hands king, of issey g p m , !; . u a “ SCENE VII] TARTUFFE 173

annuls the deed you made him of your property , an d he fo r&ves you for the secret to which your o u T friendship for an exile led y . his is the recompense he grants for your past zeal in fight ing for his cause ; he shows you that his heart knows when the world least thinks it h o w i to reward good actions, that true deserv ng

a is never lost upon him , and that his he rt r e m ememb rs good far ore than evil .

DORINE . Now Heaven be praised !

A A M D ME PERNELLE . I breathe again ! E LMIRE .

Oh blessed endin g

A A M RI NE . Who could have dared to hope it ?

' ‘ O to Ta rtu e wh om th e O cer is ta ki n RGON , fi , fil g

a wa y.

! ! i t n t n o Ha ha tra or, w a are you w ? TARTUFFE [A CT v

MA DA M R LL ORGO E LM R CLEA E PE NE E , N , I E , NTE , MA R A VA LER DA M S DOR I NE , E , I , INE

A CLE NTE . Ah ! ! brother, stop do not descend to such unworthiness ; leave that miserable man to his unhappy fate ; do not add to the remorse that overwhelms him . rather that his heart _Pray

virtue, and so detest his vice as to reform his practice ; pray also that the prince may temper T justice . hen go yourself, and on your knees, return the prince due thanks for this most gentle treatment .

ORGON .

L et Yes, you are right . us kneel at his feet and thank him for the kindness his heart has

. T shown hen, having done that duty we will h perform another, and crown by appy marriage the sincere and generous suit of an honest

r love . “a f l Ca d . v Q

E ND OF TA RTUFFE

P REFAC E B Y MO Llli RE

I T is a strange thing that men will print a

r t n w iter agains his wishes . I know nothi g more unjust ; and I would pardon any other v iolence than that . I t I h is not that wish to play the modest aut or, I and disparage , out of propriety, my comedy . should very ill- advisedly o ffend all Paris if I

A s thus accused it of applauding a poor thing . the public is absolute judge of works of this sort, it would be very impertinent in me to con tradi ct I it ; besides, if had the worst opinion in the world of my Précieuses R idicules ” I before the play was acted, must believe now

a ~ that it is worth something, bec use so many per sons have joined in speaking well of it . But, as a vast deal of the charm that has be en found in it depends on the acting and on the tones of the voices, it was of great importance to me that it should not be seen deprived of those advan T I tages . herefore thought its success on the

12 178 PRE FACE

stage was great enough to keep it there, and I I resolved, as say, to let it be seen only by

- candle light, so that no one might have a chance I to quote the proverb . was determined that my play should not jump from the boards of the 1 T ea r du h tre de Bou bon to the Galerie Palais . N I evertheless, have been unable to avoid it ; and I have had the m ortification of seeing a stolen copy of my play in the hands of book sellers , accompanied by a license obtained sur re titiou sl I n n p y. vai for me to cry : 0 t emp ora l O mares I have been made to see the n eces sit y of printing my play myself or, of having a

Th e lawsuit on my hands . last evil would be I worse than the first ; must , therefore , yield to fate and consent to a thing which would other wise be done by others without me . Good heavens ! what strange agitation one feels in bringing out a book ; and h ow raw an author is the first time his writings are printed I f I I could only have had more time might, h I perhaps, ave done better for myself ; might have taken those precautions which Messieurs

1 - t Th e ro erb Wh ere th e book sh o ps c o ng rega ed . p v “ i s : H n dso me b c ndle-li ht da li ht s o ils all a y a g , y g p . ’ oliere s u d m ent was sou nd This i s an ct in la M . j g a g p y, rat her t han a reading o ne ; and t h e reader as h e reads mu st ima ine it ct ed TR g a . .

180 PRE FACE

perfect have been, in all ages, the subject of F comedy . or this reason, truly learned men,

a f and truly brave ones, have never t ken of ence at the comic Doctor or the Capitan ; nor have

u f j dges, princes, and kings been af ronted at see

Trivelin ing , or some other actor, turn judges, S princes, and kings, into ridicule . o, then , the

' true p reci eu ses wou ld do wrong to be annoyed when I laugh at the ridiculous ones who imitate

them so badly . I I But, as have said, am not allowed time even to breathe ; Monsieur de Luynes is waiting ’t to bind me ; very well, then, since is the will

od of G . P E RS O NAG ES .

LA GRA NGE Re ec ted s uitors j . DU CRO I SY

OR GI B S P la in bour eo is G U g .

ht r ar i s MA DELON D a ug e of G g bu P réc ieu ses

R idic u les . CA TH OS Ni ec e of Garg ibus é

e i s MA ROTTE rlda id to the P réc ieus s R dic ule .

’ A LM A Nz o R La cquey to the P reci euses Ridi

c ules.

TH E MA RQUI S DE M A S

CA R I L L E Va let ta L a ra n e g g . TH E V I COM r' E DE Jo

D L T Va let to D u Crois E E y. Two SEDA N -CHA I R B E A RERS

NE I GHB ORI NG LA DIES .

MUSI CIA NS .

Th e scene is in P aris i n th h u f r , e o se o Go gibu s.

184 PRECI E USE S R I D I CULE s [SCENE I

Y DU CROIS . N ot precisely, to tell the truth .

A A L GR NGE .

A s I o wn for me, to you that I am scanda l d ’ i z e . D id I d any one ever see , like to know, two provincial minxes play the fini cal fine lady like that ? Were ever two men treated with more contempt ? They could hardly bring themselves

I saw to offer chairs . never such whisperings as they held together, such yawnings, such rub bing of the eyes, such repeated asking of, What time is it ? Did they answer anything but yes and no to what we said ? You must agree that if we had been the lowest of the low they

’ could n t have treated us worse than they did .

DU CROISY . I t seems to me you take the matter very

much to heart .

LA GRA NGE .

Of course I do ; I take it in such a way that

v I mean to be re enged for such impertinence .

Th e I know what caused us to be so despised .

’ rec i eu x f p style has not only af ected Paris . it

i ridicu has spread nto the provinces, and these SCENE I] PRECI E USE S RIDI CULE S 185

lous damsels have imbibed their share of it .

’ n recieu se I short, they are a medley of p and

’ I s coquette . see what required to be received ’ ll into their favor ; and if you listen to me , we will play them both a trick which shall show them their folly, and may teach them to know their company a little better .

DU CROISY .

h h ow But ow ? tell me .

A A L GR NGE .

I M ascarille have a valet, named , who passes i n the minds of a good many persons for a — ’ h species of wit, for there s not ing cheaper than wit nowadays . He is a wild fellow, who has taken it into his head to play the man of rank ; he plumes himself on his verses and his gallantry , and looks down on the other valets ,

r whom he is pleased to call b utes .

D U CROISY . ? Well , what can you do with him

LA GRA NGE .

D o ? why this But first let us from here . 186 PRECIE USE S RI DI CULE S [SCENE I II

SCE NE S E COND

GOR GI B US D U CR OI sY L A GRA G , , N E

GOR GI B U S .

’ S ! e o you ve seen my niece and my daught r . Did matters go right ? ‘ What is the result of the visit ?

LA GRA NGE . That is a thing you can better hear from them Al l than from us . that we can say is that we return you thanks for the favor you have shown us, and we remain your very humble servants .

DU CROISY .

Your very humble servants .

I a GOR G B U S , lon e.

Hey- day ! they seem to be going Off dissati s

fied . What reason have they for displeasure ? I a must find out what this means . Hol , there !

S CE NE THI RD

MA RO GOR GI B U S TTE ,

A M ROTTE . ? What do you want, monsieur

GOR GI B U S . Where are your mistresses ?

188 PRECI E USE S RIDI CULE S [ som mI v

S CE N E F I FTH

MA D LO CA TH OS GOR GI B U S E N , ,

GOR GI R U s .

t I is very necessary, truly, to be at such ex

L et pense just to grease your noses . me hear what you have done to those gentlemen who have gone out from here in such displeasure . D id I not tell you to receive them as persons whom I intend you to marry ?

A M DELON .

But what esteem, father, can you expect us to have for persons who proceed in this irregular manner CA TH o s

H ow is it possible, uncle, for a girl of any mind to put up with their presence ?

GOR GI E U S . What have you to say against them ?

A M DELON . F ! ine gallantry , theirs What, begin marriage

GOR GI E U S .

H ow i - b else do you wish them to beg n, y concubinage ? A re not their proposals a matter SCENE v 1 PRECIE USE S RIDI CULE S 189

for which you have as good reason to be glad as I ? Could anything be more fortunate ? This

’ n t sacred tie to which they aspire , is it a proof of the excellen ce of th eir intention s ?

A M DELON . Oh ! father, what you say is so shockingly common . I feel ashamed to hear you talk in that way ; you really ought to let us teach you the higher style of things .

GOR GI B U s . I I want neither style nor nonsense . tell you that marriage is a sacred and holy thing, and it is the duty of virtuous folk to begin with t I .

MA DELON . h ! O , heavens if all the world were like you

A n a novel would soon be ended . fine thi g,

M an dan e indeed, if Cyrus wedded at once , and A ronc e married Cléli e without the smallest difli lt cu y.

GOR GI B U S . What is the girl talking about ?

A M DELON .

Here is my cousin , father, who will tell you ,

I a e as do, that marriage should never t ke plac 190 PRECIE US E S RIDI CULE S [S CE NE V

A until the other adventures have occurred .

h ow lover, to be agreeable , must know to utter m fine senti ents ; insinuate the soft, the tender, the passionate ; and put his suit through certain

I n forms . the first place , he must see the per

-h son wit whom he falls in love at church , or out walking, or at some public ceremony ; or else he must be fatefully conducted by some relation or friend to her house, from which he issues

h i s dreamy; and melancholy . He hides passion for the beloved object for a time ; and yet h e pays her several visits, at which he never fails to bring upon the tapis some question of gal lantry which exercises the minds of all present .

h e T day of the declaration arrives ; this ought , usually , to be made in the secluded alley of a garden , while the company remain at some distance ; and this declaration must be met by

and instant anger, which calls up our blushes , banishes the lover from our presence —for a

wa time . After that, he finds a y to appease

us, to accustom us insensibly to the discourse of passion, and to draw from us that avowal T which we make with the utmost pain . hen — e follow vicissitudes, rivals casting themselv s athwart this established inclination , persecutions

a of fathers, jealousies conceived from false p

192 PRECIE USE S RI DICULE S [sc z u n v whole person signifies as much ? They have not

‘ at all the ai r which gives a good opinion of men T ’ at first sight . hink of making a lover s call

fl u with plain legs, no ruf es, hats without pl mes,

- an ill regulated style of hair, and coats which ff ! su er from penury of ribbons Good heavens, ! fancy such lovers What frugality of garb, what barrenness of conversation ! I t is not to be endured ; we cannot submit to it ! I re marked also that their shirt- frills were not made by a good maker, and their breeches lacked more than half a foot of being the proper width .

GOR GI B U S .

T I ’ hey are mad , both of them ; can t under h . at os stand one word of this gibberish C , and you, Madelon A M DELON .

h ! ’ O for pity s sake , father, do give up those

us f barbarous names, and call dif erently .

GOR GI B U S .

Barbarous names ! A re not they your bap tismal names ?

rett -Verse C o m lian ce u bmissio n and oth ers ca P y , p , S , , p ’ t u re t h e castle o f L o ers -c es and fo ce th e h mlet of v ar , r a

it . R Assidu y T . Som e v 1 PRECIE USE S RI DI CULE S 193

A M DELON .

! h ow ! A s Heavens vulgar you are for me, it is one of my astonishments that you ever d had a aughter as refined as I . Who ever heard of a Cath os or a Madelon in the modish style ? You must admit that either of those names would be enough to ruin the finest novel in the world .

CA TH o s

I t li is quite true , uncle, that a de cate ear throbs painfully on hearing th e pronunciation

Th e P olixé n . e of such words name of , which

A minte my cousin has chosen , and that of , I I which take , have a grace which think you must perceive .

GOR GI B U s .

I Listen to me ; one word is enough . shall not hear of your being called by any other names th an those your godfathers and god

m A n d mothers gave you in baptis . as for I the gentlemen in question, know their I families and their estates, and am deter mined that you shall agree to receive them as husbands ; the care of two girls is too

heavy a burden for a man of my age .

13 194 PRECIE USE S RI DI CULE S [S CE NE VI

CA TH o s

A s for I I me, uncle, all can say is that think

H ow marriage an altogether shocking thing . is it possible to endure the idea of sleeping with a man in the room ? A M DELON .

Please allow us to breathe a little in the fin e

we world of Paris, where have only just arrived . D o leave us free to weave the tissue of our romance without pressing on the conclusion .

I B S a si e. GOR C U , d T h ! hey are downrig t fools, no doubt of it

A lou d I I ( ) Once more say, shall not listen

ff I e to such stu . int nd to be master here ; and, to cut the matter short, you will either be married, both of you , at once, or you shall I go into a nunnery . swear a good round

oath to that .

S C E N E S I X T H

CA TH OS MA D LO , E N

CA TH OS .

! h ow Heavens my dear, your father is sunk in materialism ! His intellect is so dense that

hi s soul seems darkened .

PRECIE USE S R ID ICULE s [SCENE VII

A M DELON . I mpertinent creature ! Must one submit to it ? Who is the master of this lacquey ?

A M ROTTE .

Mascarille He called him the Marquis de .

A M DELON . Ah ! ! ! my dear, a marquis a marquis Yes, go and say that he can see us . No doubt it

wh o is some modish wit has heard tell of us .

CA TH o s .

U . ndoubtedly, my dear

A M DELON . We had better receive him in this lower room

L et rather than in our chamber . us arrange our

h . air a little and sustain our reputation Q uick ,

Marotte , here , and hold up before us the coun sellor of the graces .

A M ROTTE . F I ’ aith ! don t know what the creature is . S peak Christian, if you want me to make out what you say . CA rn o s

- n Bring a looking glass, ig orant girl ; and be careful you do not sully it by the commu ni ca

E x u n t . tion of your own image . ( e ) SCENE VII I ] PRECIE USE S RI DI CULE S 197

SCE NE E I GHTH

MA S A R I L LE i n a seda n cha ir Two OR RS C . , , P TE

M A S CA R I L L E .

a ‘ ! a la la! —I Hol , there , porters hol , , think t o a hese scoundrels want to break my b nes, b ng ing against the walls and pavements .

FIRST PORTER .

Hang it ! the door is so narrow ; and you would have us bring you inside .

MA S CA R I L L E .

I s ! should think so, indeed, you rascal Would you have me expose the puffiness of my plumes to the inclemencies of the rainy season, and imprint my shoes in the mud . Be off with you take your chair out of here .

SECOND PORTER .

r Then pay us if you please , monsieu .

MA S CA R I L L E .

SECOND PORTER . I say , monsieur, that we want our money, if

ou y please . 198 PRECIE USE S RIDICULE S [ S c m mvm

MA A I L L E in S C R box his ea rs . , g ! What, you knave ask money of a person of my quality

SECOND PORTER . I s that the way to pay poor men ? Will your quality give us a dinner ?

MA S CA R I LL E . Ha ! ha ! ha ! I ’ll teach you to know your place ! These louts presume to make game of me

F sei z i n one o th e oles o IRS T PORTER, g f p f

th e ch a i r.

Here ! here ! pay us at once .

M A S CA R I L L E . What

FIRST PORTER .

now I say I mean to have that money .

MA S CA R I L L E .

’ s w . He reasonable , that fello

FIRST PORTER .

Make haste .

M A S CA R I L L E .

Yes, yes ; you speak as you ought ; but that

’ other man is a clown who does n t know what he T ? n . is talki g about here , are you satisfied

200 PRECIE USE S RIDICULE S [ S CE NE X

S CE NE TE NTH

MA D LO CA TH OS MA S CAR I L L E A L M ANZOR E N, , ,

M A A R I L L E a ter m a ki n h i s sa lu ta ti ons . S C , f g

Mesdames, you will doubtless be surprised at the audacity of my v isit ; but your reputation has drawn this annoyance upon you ; distinguished merit has such charms for me that I pursue it wherever I can find it .

A M DELON . I f it is merit you pursue , you must hunt on other land than ours .

CA TH o s .

I n order to fin d merit here you have had to bring it with you .

M A A L L E S C R I . Ah ! I inscribe myself in abjuration of your is words . Fame truthful in speaking of your worth ; you will hold hearts for trumps and wi n all tricks from the most gallant men in Paris .

A M DELON . A Your complaisance extends the liberality of t its praise too far ; we mus be careful, my I cousin here and , not to be too seriously taken by your dulcet flattery . Som mX] PRECIE USE S RIDI CULE S 201

CA TH OS .

M c f . y lear, we ought to of er chairs

A M DELON .

m nz r A l a o . Ho there ,

A L M A N ZOR .

Madame .

MA DELON . Q uick ! convey to us the conveniences of con versation .

MA A S C R I L L E .

r ? But first, what safety is there he e for me

CA TH o s . What do you fear ?

MA A I L S C R L E .

S a ome theft of my heart, some st b to my free

I two dom . see pairs of eyes , which look to me like mischievous fellows , ready to attack all

T . liberties, and treat a soul as urk to Moor

! we Hey, what the devil no sooner do approach them than they stand at once upon their murder Ah ! I I ous guard . , faith do distrust them . must forthwith run away, or have some sound security that they will not assault me . PRECIE USE S RIDI CULE S [ S c sm x

A M DELON . M y dear, the sportive style of man .

CA TH o s .

l Amil ar c . Yes, plainly an

A M DELON . Fear nothing ; our eyes have no such base designs ; your heart may rest in peace upon the assurance of their equity .

CA TH OS .

i n n But, pity, monsieur, be not i exorable to that easy chair, which , for the last ten minutes, extends its arms to you ; gratify , we beg, the desire it has to clasp you .

M A S CA R I L LE a t er a tti n his wi a nd , f p g g ,

r n u a ra gi ng hi s r files .

An d sa you , mesdames, what y you of Paris ?

MA DELON .

Alas ! what can we say ? We should need to be the antipodes of reason not to confess that — Paris is the great emporium of marvels, the centre of good taste, and wit, and gallantry .

1 ” A charact er in Clélie . Th e word was u sed amon th e réc ieuses of th e da t o me n s i htl g p y a pr g y, li el s o t i e . v y, p r v

204 PRECI E USE S RIDI CULE S [ S CE NE X

CA TH OS . Also certain others who have been named to

fine us as the sovereign arbiters of things .

M A S CA R I L L E . I can arrange this affair for you far better T than any one . hose persons all Visit me ; I may say that I never rise without some half dozen wits about me .

A M DELON .

Ah ! we , heavens shall be obliged to you with the utmost obligation if you will do us this kindness ; for indeed we must possess the acquaintance of those gentlemen if we desire to I t belong to the great world . is they who give momentum to reputations ; and you know that there are some whose slightest frequentation r m would convey to us, if we had no othe clai than that, the repute of having cultivated tastes . F I or myself, what particularly value is the opportunity these intellectual visits offer for instruction in a hundred things we ought to know, because they are the very essence of

164 1 . I t was re red b h er fut u re h u sb n d th e p pa y a , Mo t i E ch m ri al is on fl o Marqu is de n au s er. a ad g a wer of h er l n d writ ten b some one of th e distin gar a , y

uish d n o th t da TR . g e me f a y. SCENE X] PRECIE USE S R ID ICULE s 205

n accomplished lear ing . We daily hear in that

way of the latest gallantry, the pretty inter

oi change prose and verse . We learn to say, in h timely fashion, of such a one t at he has just composed the cleverest play in the world ; of an other that he has put words to such an air ; this one wrote madrigals to some delight ; that one a poem to his faithless love ; a third a quatrain to his mistress, who returned an answer before eight this morning ; a certain author is writing

h as out his plot, another reached the last part

n of his ovel, while still a third is putting his T work through the press . is talk like this that

o I f we gives us worth in c mpany . are ignorant of such necessary things I would not give a fig for native wit .

CA TH OS .

I n I fact, think it goes beyond the ridiculous if those who pique themselves on mind do not know everything, even to the most trifling

. F quatrain that comes in vogue or my part, I should die of shame if I were asked whether I had seen some fine n ew thing I had not seen .

M A S CA R I L L E . T rue , it is mortifying not to possess first

’ s knowledge of all that going on . But do not

Vex u I r yo rself for that . will establish in you 206 PRECI E USE S RIDI CULE S [SCENE x

I house a true academy of wits, and promise that not a bit of verse shall be written in Paris but you shall know it all by heart before the I . F rest of the world or my part, , such as you I see me , fence a little with verse myself, when

fl u tter the fancy takes me ; and you will see ,

two ing about the alcoves, hundred little songs m of y composing, and as many sonnets, four hundred epigrams, and more than a thousand madrigals, to say nothing of portraits and 1 enigmas . A O M DEL N . I own I am furiously in love with portraits ;

n d I k ow nothing more istinguished .

M A A E S C R I L L . ffi Portraits are di cult, and require depth of mind ; you will see some of my making which,

I . am sure , will not displease you

1 ’ ’ Th e prec i euse rec eived h er c ompany in bed in h er hi ch was ele ntl or t Th es s lco e dec ed . e as em a v , w ga y a blies ere c all ed ruelles bedsides c o res on din t o t h e w ( ), r p g ” ons of l t er d s ort r it s m nin li t er r sal . e a ay P a , a g a y h o f i n i i u als r mu i ket c es d d e e ch n o . s u e Mlle . v , w v g ’ de Scu dery s Gran d Cyru s is a c ollecti on of t h e por

it s of h er rien s int - imon an ru er r t t r f d . d B e b ou h a Sa S , y g this st l o f ort it - intin t o th e le l of i t y e p ra pa g ve h s ory.

’ E nigmas were also th e fashi on ; th e precieuses sent t h em with t h eir i n i tat ions and h en t h e c om n v , w pa y embled th e ser ed t o l u nch th con e ti n ass e rsa o . , y v a v

208 PRECIE USE S RIDI CULE S [S omm x

M A S I L E CA R L .

N . o doubt it is But, apropos, let me repeat an impromptu I made yesterday for a duchess of my acquaintance whom I was Visitin g ; for I am devilishly strong on impromptus .

CA TH OS .

An impromptu is the touchstone of the

M A S CA R I L L E .

Listen . A M DELON . d o . We so, with all our ears

M A A I L L E S C R .

Oh oh oh oh ! no h e d I t ook , , e e rin no h rm at ou I lo ok F a g a , y ; Y ou r st e lth e es rob me o f o s a y y j y , Oh thief oh t hi ef oh thi ef oh thi f , , , , e

CA TH OS .

! l Heavens that is gallant to the ast degree .

M A S A R I L L E C .

I Yes, all that write has a chivalrous tone ; nothing pedantic about it .

A M DELON .

h ! . O no, indeed a thousand leagues from that

210 PRECI E USE S R I DICULE s [ S CE NE X

I look ; in other words, amuse myself by con

sideri n I I g you , observe you , contemplate you . “ Your stealthy eyes ; n o w what do you think

’ of that word stealthy I s n t it well chosen ?

CA TH OS .

Altogether well .

MA I S CA R L L E .

S - se tealthy, sly, like a cat after a mou , s tea lthy. A M DELON . What could be better

MA S A R I L LE C .

” R ob me of joys tear them, rend them h t ! . O ! from me , rob me , hief oh, thief oh , ” ! ! su ose t thief oh, thief Would you not pp j was a man running and shouting after a rob “ ber : Stop thief ! stop thief ! stop thief ! sto p thief

MA DELON . You have indeed given a most witty dashing turn to it .

M A S CA R I L L E .

L et I it me sing you the air made for .

CA TH o s .

us ? What, have you studied m ic SCENE X] PRECIE USE S R IDICULE s 211

MA S CA R I L L E .

I ? not at all .

CA TH OS .

Then how c ould you make the air ?

M A S CA R I L L E . People of quality know everything though they learn nothing .

A M DELON .

Why of course , my dear .

M A S A I L C R L E .

Now tell me if my song is to your taste

! Th e Hem , hem la , la, la, la , la . brutality of the weather has furiously outraged the delica cies of my voice ; but no matter, the tune is jaunty and cavalier ( s i ngs)

Oh oh ! oh oh no h eed I t o ok etc . , , ,

CA TH OS .

That air is full of passion ; one might indeed die of it . A M DELON .

T n here is somethi g chromatic in it .

M A A R I L L S C E .

D o you not think the thought is admirably “ : Oh ! ! expressed in the singing , thief oh, thief 212 PRECIE USE S RIDICULE S [SCENE x

! oh oh, thief , thief just as if a man were

n S ! cryi g out with all his force , top ! stop ! ! ! ” stop stop stop thief and then suddenly, S all out of breath , top thief !

A M DELON . That is indeed kn owing the inner sense of ! I t I things, the inmost inner is marvellous,

I r do assure you . am enthusiastic ove air and words .

CA TE o s .

I str h have never yet known anything so o g .

MA S CA R I L L E . All I do comes naturally, without study .

A M DELON . Nature has treated you like a tender mother; you are truly her spoilt child .

M A S CA R I L L E .

h ow ss But you , mesdames, do you pa your time

CA TH o s .

n n t I doi g no hing .

MA DELON .

S ar ar o far, we have had a most fe ful de th amusements .

' 214 PRECIE USE S R ID ICUL E s [ S CE NE X every day of which the people in the provinces know nothing, witty as they think themselves .

CA TH o s

Your request is sufficient ; now that we are informed we will applaud in good style at all that is said .

MA S CA R I L L E . I may be mistaken , but to me you have the appearance of having written a comedy yourselves . A M DELON . ’ t Perhaps is something as you say .

MA A I L L S C R E .

! I . Ha, faith then must see it Between our I I selves, have composed a play which intend to have performed . CA TH o s I ndeed ! to what comedians shall you intrust it ?

MA S CA R I L L E . A fine question ! Why to the comedians of t l 1 T the HO e de Bourgogne . hey are the only ones who are capable of bringing out the merits

Th e of a piece . others are ignoramuses, who

’ recite as people talk ; they don t know h o w to

1 Th e c o mpany of t h e HOtel de B ourg ogne and ’ Moliere s c ompany were rivals . SCENE X] PRECIE USE S RIDI CUL ES 215

roll the lines sonorously, or pause in the right

H ow places . can the audience know which are

the fine verses if the comedian does not pause ,

wa and warn us, in that y, that we ought to hurrah

CA TH os .

’ T is certainly the proper way to make an T audience feel the beauties of a work . hings are worth only the value that is put upon them .

M A S CA R I L L E . hi What t nk you, mesdames, of my little

— e decorations, plumes, ribbons, lace ; are th y in keeping with my coat ?

CA TH OS . I ndeed they are .

MA S CA R I L LE .

I think the ribbon is well chosen .

MA DELON .

’ 1 r ri Prodigiously well ; t is P e d geon himself .

M A S CA R I L L E .

But what do you say to these ruffles at my knees ? 2

1 Fashiona ble milli ner of th e day. 2 Th ese decorations called ca non ere bro d band , , w a a o f some st u ff ed ed it h lac e ti ed rou n d t h e le bo e , g w , g a v

t h e knee t h e l ce f llin h alf down t h e c lf o f th e le . , a a g a g PRECIE USE S RI DI CULE S [ SCE NE X

A M DELON .

th e They have indeed stylish air .

M A S A R I L L E C . I can boast, at least, that they are fully a quarter wider than any that have appeared so far . A M DELON .

I own to you I never saw elegance of parel carried to such heights .

M A S CA R I L L E . Be pleased to apply to these gloves ff reflective e ort of your sense of smell .

A M DELON .

r ll Their odor is ter ifica y good .

CA Tn o s

Never did I respire a better fragrance .

M A S CA R I L L E resen ti n to th ei r n oses , p g r lo ks o h is w p owde ed c f ig . A nd this ? A M DELON .

’ T is of the finest quality ; it touches th e sublime deliciously .

M A S CA R I L L E .

H ow But you say nothing of my feathers . do you find them ?

' PRECIE USE S RIDI CULE S [Sc a m X I

CA TH OS .

He says things, we must admit, in a most

original way .

MA DELON .

He has wonderful agility of wit .

CA TH OS .

Your fears are greater than your peril ; why cry out before your heart is galled ?

M A A L L S C R I E . What the devil ! it is already galled from head to foot .

SCE NE E LE VE NTH

CA TH OS MA D LO MA S CA R I L L E MA RO E , E N, , TT

A M ROTTE .

Madame , some one asks to see you .

A M DELON . Wh o is it ? A M ROTTE .

h e T Vicomte de Jodelet .

M A A R I L S C LE .

Th e Vicomte de Jodelet ?

A M ROTTE .

Yes, monsieur . Sc u mx11] PRECI E USE S RI DI CULE S 219

CA TH o s .

D o you know him ?

M A I L S CA R L E . f He is my best riend .

A M DELON .

L et him come in at once .

MA A I L L E S C R .

I t is some time since I have seen him ; I am delighted at this chance .

CA TH o s .

Here he is .

SCE NE TWE LFTH

CA TH OS MA D LO JOD E L E T M A S CA R I L LE MA RO , E N, , , TTE, A L M A NZOR

M A S CA R I L L E . A h ! , vicomte

JOD E LE T . A h ! , marquis

M I L E A S CA R L .

H ow glad I am to meet you !

JODELET . I am delighted to find you here

MA S CA R I L L E . E I mbrace me again, beg of you . 220 PRECIE USE S RIDI CULE S [SCENE X II

A to a t as . M DELON, C h

Dearest, we are beginning to be known ! see h ow the great world finds its way to us .

M A S CA R I L L E .

Mesdames, allow me to present this noble

' man ; upon my word of h onor h e is worthy to be known to you .

JODELET . I have come , mesdames, to pay the homage

that is due to you . Your attractions have seig n rial o rights over all sorts and kinds of persons .

MA DELON . You carry your civilities to the farthest con

fines of flattery .

CA TH o s . This day must be inscribed in our almanac

as a most fortunate one .

A to Alma n z ar. M DELON, I Come , boy ; must always repeat to you the same things ? D o you not see that we need a superaddition of chairs ?

M A S CA R I L L E .

’ You must not be surprised at the vicomte s

—h e n appearance, is just recoveri g from an ill

his so e ness it is that which makes face pal .

222 PRECIE USE S RID I CULE s [SCENE X II subaltern when you commanded two thousand horse .

JODELET .

War is a fine thing ; but, upon my word, the court gives little recompense in these days to men like us who have seen much service .

M A S CA R I L L E . That is why I mean to hang my sword to the wall .

CA TH OS .

For my part I have a furious tenderness for men of war . A M DELON . I I love them , too, but require that mind l shou d season bravery .

MA S CA R I L L E .

D o h ow you not remember, Viscount, we

carried that half- moon under the guns of the enemy at the siege of Arras ?

JOD E L E T .

What do you mean with your half -moon ? I t

was a full moon .

MA S CA R I L L E .

I think you are right . Som mX I I] PRECI E USE S RI DI CULE S 223

JOD E L E T.

Faith ! I ought to remember that ! I was wounded in the leg by a hand- grenade ; the I . F marks of which still bear eel the place , if you please , mesdames , and you will know what a wound it was .

CA TH OS a ter t ou ch i n th e s ot . , f g p

Yes, it is indeed a great scar .

M A A I S C R L L E . — Give me your hand and feel this there , exactly at the back of my head . Have you foun d it ? A M DELON . I Yes, feel something .

M A S CA R I L L E .

’ That s a musket - shot which I received during

my last campaign .

u n co i s a ver n h i bre s t . JODELET, g

’ A nd s here another, which pierced me through

and through in the attack on Gravelines .

M A S CA R I L L E u t i n h i s h a n d to th e bu tton , p t g

i ru of h s t n k h ose. I ’ll show a most dreadful wound

A M DELON . N o , no ; we can believe it without seeing . 224 PRECIE USE S RIDI CULE S [SCENE x11

MA S CA R I L LE .

r They are honorable wounds, which will p ove to you what we are .

CA TH o s .

We do not doubt what you say .

MA S CA R I L LE .

r? Viscount, is your carriage at the doo

JODELET .

MA S CA R I L L E . Because we could take these ladies to drive outside the walls, and make them a present .

A M DELON .

- We cannot drive out to day .

M A S CA R I L L E . T hen let us send for Violins, and have a dance .

JODELET . F ’t ! . aith , yes is well thought of

A M DELON .

e To that we will readily consent . But w need some additions to our company .

MA S CA R I L LE . Hola! Champagne ! Picard ! Bourguignon ! Cascaret ! Basque ! L a Verdure ! Lorrain ! Pro

226 PRECIE USE S RID ICULE S [ Sc um x11

MA S CA R I L L E .

To Show you my veracity I will now make an M impromptu on the subject . ( edi ta tes . )

CA TH o s . Ah ! I conjure you by all the devotion of

s my heart, let us have something made expres ly for us .

JOD E L E T .

I feel an envious desire to do likewise ; but my poetic vein is hampered just now by the quantity of blood that I have lost from repeated bleedings .

M A S CA R I L L E . What the devil does this mean ? I always make the first verse easily , though sometimes ’t I have difficulty with the rest . But faith ! is ’m I ’ l too short a time ; I too much hurried . l make you an impromptu at my leisure and

’ n you ll find it the very fi est in the world .

JOD E L E T .

His wit is devilish .

A M DELON .

A nd - ! so gallant, and well turned

MA S CA R I L L E .

h ow Viscount, tell me , long is it since you saw the countess ? SCENE XIII] PRECIE USE S RIDI CULE S 227

JOD E L E T .

. ’T is more than three weeks since I called upon her .

MA S CA R I L LE .

D o you know, the duke came to see me this morning, and wants to take me into the country

- on a deer hunt . A M DELON .

Here come our friends .

SCE NE THI RTE E N TH

L U L CEL I M ENE CA TH OS MA D LO MA S CA R I L L E CI E , , , E N, ,

JOD E LE T MA RO A L M A N ZO R V OL -PLA Y RS , TTE , , I IN E

MA DELON . 1 T Ah ! m . y dears, we ask your pardon hese gentlemen have a fancy to give souls to our feet, and we have sent for you to fill the void of our assembly .

LUCILE . I You have greatly obliged us, assure you .

1 The word chére [dear] was used in th ose days as

’ é e s o Th o r s h ad t h e s m th eyu sed pr c z u e [preci us] . e w d a e me nin an d ere bot h i o u hére h o e er ex n e . C a g w v g , w v , r s d mor rson intim It h as rem in d in p es e e pe al acy. a e

- u A I E A I . se . M M RT N 228 PRECIE USE S RI DICULE S [ SCENE XI II

MA S CA R I L LE .

This is but a hasty ball ; one of these days

ll th e r we will give you another with a fo ms .

Have the Violin- players come ?

A L M A N ZOR .

t Yes, monsieur, here hey are .

CA TH o s .

our a s. Come , my dears, let us take pl ce

MA A I L L E a nci n a S C R d lon e b wa o relude. , g y y f p

L a la . , la, la ; la, la, la ; , la

A M DELON .

What an elegant figure he has !

CA TH os .

An d h ow well he dances !

M A A R I L LE t a n M a n r S C ki delo o a r . , g f a p rtn e 1 My freedom will dance a cou ra n te as well as

. ! h my legs Keep time, violins, keep time O , what ignoramuses ! I t is n ’t possible to dance

’ Th e to them . devil take you, can t you play

La l S ? a . e in time , la, la ; la, la, la ; la, t ady,

h fiddlers O ! you Village .

1 A n old- f h ioned and er r d I as e ance L RE. v y g av . TT

230 PRECIE US E S RI DI CULE S [SCENE X V

SCE NE FI FTE E N TH

CATn o s MA D LO LU L CELI MENE M A S CA R I LLE , E N , CI E , , ,

JOD E LE T MA RO V OL -PLAY RS , TTE , I IN E

A M DELON .

What does all this mean ?

JODELE T . ’ T is a wager .

CA TH OS . What ! you let yourselves be beaten for a wager ?

M A S CA R I L L E .

Oh ! I did not wish to take notice of it ; I I am a Violent man , and might have been too

n a gry .

A M DELON . But to endure such an affront in our presence !

M A I S CA R L LE .

t Oh ! it is nothing at all . L e us go on with h our dance . We ave known those men a long

r s time , and it is not worth while between f iend to get angry for such a trifle . SCENE X VI ] PRECIE USE S RIDI CULE S 231

SCE N E SI XTE E NTH

DU CRO SY L A GRA G MA D LO CA THOS L U L I , N E , E N, , CI E ,

CEL I M ENE M A S CA R I L L E JOD E LE T MA RO , , , TTE , VIOLIN-PLA YERS

A LA GR NGE . F ! aith , you rascals you shall not laugh at us

I . ain, promise you . Come in, you men

n - t r ( Th ree or fou r figh ti g men en e . )

MA DELON .

What means this audacity ? H o w dare you disturb our house in this way?

DU CROISY .

Ha ! mesdames ; do you think we will allow our lacqueys to be better received here than ourselves ? Shall they make love to you and give you a ball at our expense ?

A M DELON. Your lacqueys !

LA GRA NGE .

Yes, our lacqueys ; and it is neither right nor honorable in you to debauch them as you are doing . 232 PRECIE USE S RIDI CULE S [SCENE X V I

A M DELON . Oh ! , heavens what insolence

LA GRA NGE . But they shall not have the advantage of our I f clothes to find favor in your sight . you

must love them, it shall be for their fine eyes

! o ff r u es only . Q uick take those bor owed pl m

at once .

JODELET . Farewell to our finery !

M A S CA R I L LE . Down with the marquisate and the viscounty ! Y DU CROIS . ! Ha, ha you rogues ; so you had the audacity to follow in our tracks ! You must find some

I e other way to be agreeable to your dames, t ll

you that . A A L GR NGE .

’ T was too audacious to supplant us, and

u s supplant too in our own clothes .

M A S CA R I L LE .

O fortune ! what is thy inconstancy!

DU CROI S Y .

Q uick ! off with everything .

234 PRECIE USE S RIDI CULE S [SCENE XVI II

SCE N E E I GHTE E NTH

GOR GI E US MA D LO CA TH OS JOD L E M A S CA R I L LE , E N, , E T, , VIOLIN-PLA YERS

GOR GI B U S . ! ’ Ha you jades , you ve got yourselves into a fine pickle ! I have just heard of your doings from those gentlemen who have left my house .

MA DELON . Oh ! , father they have played us such an i nfamous trick .

GOR GI B U S . a Yes, it was inf mous, but it was caused by

. T your insolence , you hussies hey resented I the treatment you gave them , and , unlucky I f man that am, have to swallow the af ront .

MA DELON A h ! I I ’ll but swear to be avenged, or die

n d h ow in the attempt . A you, villains, dare you stay here after such insolence ?

M A S CA R I L L E .

To treat a marquis in that way ! Behold what the world is the slightest mishap makes those wh o cherish us despise us . Come com I rade , let us seek fortune elsewhere . see plainly that vain appearances are all they care

E xi t for here ; bare Virtue has no chance . ( ) SCENE X I X ] PREC IE USE S RI DI CULE S 235

SC E NE NI N E TE E NTH

GOR GI B US MA D LO CA TH OS V OLI -PLA Y RS , E N , , I N E

- VIOLIN P LA YER . d t Monsieur, we expect you to pay us, in efaul m of the others , for the usic we have made here .

OR GI B U S s tri ki n th em . G , g I ’11 ’ Yes , yes, pay you ; and that s the money

’ ’ 11 A s I . I do it in for you , you jades , don t know what keeps me from doing the same to

- you . We shall be the by word and the ’ laughing - stock of every one ; and that s what you have brought upon us by your foolish non

o sense . G , hide your heads , you wretched

A lon e A n d girls ; go , hide forever . ( ) as for you who caused their folly , contemptible trash , pernicious amusements of idle minds, novels,

—be songs, verses , sonnets, and rhymes, off with you to all the devils !

D OF L S PRE US S R D UL S EN E CIE E I IC E .

P E RS O NAG ES

G ORG DA D 1 Rich ea sa nt husba nd A n E E N IN p , of

etz ue g q. A N GELIQUE lVife of George D a ndin a nd

ht o da u er M . d otenv ll g f e S i e. MONSIEUR DE S OTE N

V I LL ountr n l m E C y ge t e a n.

A A M E I L E M D E DE S OT NV L .

L r CLI TA ND R E ove of A ngelique.

A I to A n ei ue CL UD NE M a id g l q.

LUB IN P ea sa nt employed by Clita udre.

C LI Va t to or e D a nd n O N le Ge g i .

Th e sc ene i s i n front of th e house of eor e andin i n th e G g D , c oun tr y.

“ ” 1 n fi u se th e Dandi means ni nny. Rabelai s was th e rst to w ord as a proper name . G E O R G E D A ND N

g rt f irst

SCE NE FI RST

G A a lone . GEOR E D NDIN , A H ! what a strange th in g it is to have a lady for your wife ! and what a warnin g my marriage should be to all peasants who want to rise above

’ I v e their state of life and ally themselves, as

’

n . N done , with a obleman s family obility is,

o in itself, a very g od thing ; it is a considerable

’ thing, that s very certain ; but it is accompanied by so many unpleasant circumstances that ’t is I best not to rub shoulders with it . have grown

o wn I wise in the matter at my expense . know what nobles are when they take us peasants into their family ; the wedlock is mighty little with I ’d our persons, it is our property they marry .

I e have done much better, rich as am , to mat 240 GE ORGE DANDm [A CT I a r s mong the good , hearty peasant y, in tead of

a s t king a wife who hold herself above me, shows

hear n s disgust at having to my name, and thi k

’ that with all my wealth I have n t bought th e d title of her hu sband . George Dan in George

’ Ve s Dandin ! you done a foolish thing, the mo t

was M s is foolish thing that ever done . y hou e

n ow I e horrid to me . never ent r it without fi nding some fresh trouble .

S CE NE SE COND

G ORG DA D LUE I N E E N IN,

G A seei n L u bi n i n th e a ct o GEOR E D NDIN, g f

us lea vi ng th e h o e. What the devil is that queer fellow doing in my house ?

ercei vi n eor e D a ndi n . LUBIN, p g G g ’ m There s a an looking at me .

A a si de. GEORGE D NDIN,

’ n t H e does know me .

as ide. LUBIN ,

s n He must suspect omethi g.

A a side. GEORGE D NDIN,

’ Ha ! he does n t even salute me .

242 GE ORG E DANDI N [A CT I

A GEORGE D NDIN . Why not ?

LUBIN . Goodness ! because

A GEORGE D NDIN . Because why

LUBIN . Softly ; I am afraid somebody may hear

E G ORGE DA NDIN . N o, there is no one near .

LUBIN .

’ I ve S Well, you see been peaking to the mis

of tress the house , about a message from a cer tain gentleman who is making eyes at her ; and

D o nobody must know about it . you under stand A GEORGE D NDIN .

LUBIN . That ’s the reason I don ’t want to be over T heard . hey told me to take the greatest care that no one saw me ; I beg of you not to say

’ you ve seen me .

A GEORGE D NDIN . I ’11 take care of that . SCENE I I ] GE ORGE DAND I N 24 3

LUBIN .

’ I ve I am so glad done the thing secretly, d just as they tol me .

A GEORGE D NDIN .

Yes, you have done well .

LUBIN .

Th e s husband, they tell me , is so jealou he

’ ’ won t let any one make love to his wife ; he d

D o raise the deuce if it got to his ears . you understand A GEORGE D NDIN .

Perfectly .

LUBIN .

’ He must n t know anything about

A GEORGE D NDIN . f O course not .

LUBIN . T hey want to deceive him quietly . You understand ?

A GEORGE D NDIN . T horoughly .

LUBIN .

’ Now if you go and say you ve seen me com

’ ing out of his house , you ll spoil the whole f af air . You understand ? 244 GE ORGE DANDIN [ACT I

A GEORGE D NDIN .

Of course I do . What is the name of the man who sent you ?

LUBIN .

lo He is a nobleman of our parts . Monsieur Vicomte de —something Hang it ! I can ’t remember h ow the devil they jabber those

li litandre C C . names . Monsieur

GEORGE DA NDIN .

I s it that young fellow who lives

LUBIN .

Yes ; over there among the trees .

A a si de. GEORGE D NDIN,

’ That s why the young spark has come to live I I in my neighborhood . nosed him at once ; thought there was something suspicious in his

being here .

LUBIN .

’ I tell you he s the best man that ever you

saw . He gave me three gold pieces just to come here and tell the wife he in love with her ‘ is n and asks the ho or of coming to see her . Good

’ ’ s pay for little work . What a whole day s labor,

I r for which only earn ten sous, compa ed with that ?

246 GE ORGE DANDIN [A CT I

LUBIN .

Gracious ! it will be droll ; for the husband

’ ’ s has n t a notion of the plot , that one comfort ; ’11 ’ ? and they flout his jealousy finely , won t they

GEORGE DA NDIN .

No doubt .

LUBIN .

- Well, good day to you . Keep your mouth

’ ’ shut, anyhow, so that the husband sha n t hear a word of it . A GEORGE D NDIN .

Yes, yes .

LUBIN .

A s I . for me, shall pretend to know nothing

’ ’ I m a sly dog ; nobody will ever find out I m in it .

SCE NE THIRD

A a lon . GEORGE D NDIN, e

ell ! now W , George Dandin you see the way T your wife means to treat you . his is what comes of wishing to marry a lady . You are expected to put up with everything and have no chance to revenge yourself ; the nobility just E holds you down , bound hand and foot . quality

n of statio , in marriage at least, leaves a man at liberty to resent his wrongs, and if your wife is SCENE I V] GE ORGE DANDIN 24 7 only a peasant you have got your elbows free to e lay it on as you like . But you would hank r

’ after the nobility ; you were n t satisfied to be ! I master in your own house . Ha am furious

’ in my inmost heart ; I d willingly take a stick ! and beat myself . What listen impudently to th e love of that young fop , and promise him a

’ return for it ! M orbleu I won t let this occa

’ I 11 n sion pass . go at once and lay my complai t before her father and mother, and make them witnesses , as far as needful, of the grounds of grief and resentment their daughter gives me .

But here they come, in the nick of time .

SCE NE FOURTH

MO SI UR D S OTE NV I L L E MA DA M D S OTE NV I L L E N E E , E E , GEORGE DA NDIN

E TE I L MONSIEUR D S O N V L E .

h - in-law W at is the matter, son ; you seem troubled . A GEORGE D NDIN .

I t o have reason be , and

A A S OTE N V I L LE M D ME DE .

U -i n- law pon my word, son , you have little civility ; you ought to bow to persons when you meet them . 243 GEORGE DANDIN [A CT I

A GEORGE D NDIN .

F -in - law I aith ! mother , have other things in my head, and

A A S OTE N V I L L E M D ME DE . Again ! I s it possible that you know your company so little ? I s there no way of teaching you h ow to conduct yourself toward persons of quality ? A GEORGE D NDIN . What is it n ow ?

A A TE N I L L E M D ME DE S O V .

When will you relinquish, toward me , the

- familiarity of that word mother- in law Can you not accustom yourself to say “ madame

A GEORGE D NDIN .

’ - in - law P a rbleu . if you call me son it seems to me that I can call you mother-in ” law.

MA DA ME DE S OTE N V I L L E . t There are many reasons against i . Things i t are not equal . Learn, if you please , that is not your place to use that word to a person

S -in -law of my station . on as you are , there is a great difference between us ; and you ought

to understand it better than you do .

250 GE ORGE DANDI N [A CT I

O A GE RGE D NDIN .

Very well , then, monsieur simply , and not

S oten ville I Monsieur de , have to tell you that my wife gives me

TE I E MONSIEUR DE S O N V L L . Not so fast ! remember that you ought not to say my wife when you speak of our daughter .

A GEORGE D NDIN . What my wife is not my wife ?

A A S TE N V I L L E M D ME DE O .

-in- law Yes, son , she is your wife ; but it is not permissible that you should call h er so ; you could not do oth erw1se I f you had mar ried one of your equals .

A a si d . GEORGE D NDIN, e Ah ! George Dandin , where have you been and poked yourself ? (Alou d) Hey ! for good ness ’ sake lay aside your gentility for a time

A Th e and let me speak as I can . ( s ide) devil take the tyranny of their manners ! ( To M on s i eu r de S otenville) I n ow tell you that I am not satisfied with my marriage .

T I MONSIEUR DE S O E NV L L E .

A nd -i n -law for what reason, son ?

252 GE ORGE DANDIN [A CT I

G A GEOR E D NDIN .

’ Yes, that s all very well ; my children will be

I be - noble , but shall a laughing stock if matters are not set right

TE L MONSIEUR DE S O NV I L E .

- in-law ? What do you mean by that, son

GEORGE DA NDIN . I mean that your daughter does not live as a woman should live ; and she does things that are against her honor .

A A TE I L LE M D ME DE S O NV . M Stop ; take care what you say . y daughter comes of too Virtuous a race ever to do anything to wound her honor . For the last three hun dred years there has never been known in the

La P ru doteri e house of a single woman, thank

od G , who gave cause to be talked about .

TE I L L E MONSIEUR DE S O NV .

Corbleu ! the house of de S oten ville has never, in its whole line, had a worthless woman ; bravery is not more hereditary in i ts males than chastity in its females . S c a m I V] GE ORGE DANDIN 253

TE L E MA D A ME DE S O NV I L .

We had a Jacqueline de la P ru doterie who would never consent to be the mistress of a

n duke and peer, the governor of our provi ce .

L E MONSIEUR DE S OTE N V I L .

A nd in our family we had a M ath u ri ne de Sotenville who refused twenty thousand crowns from a favorite of the king, who only asked to speak with her .

GEOR GE DA NDIN . l Well, your daughter is not so particu ar as all

n that, and she has tamed down si ce she came to live with me .

TE L E MONSIEUR DE S O N V I L .

E - in-l w a . xplain yourself, son We are not persons to support her in an y wrong - doing ; I we should be the first, her mother and , to see justice done to you .

A A E M D ME DE S OT N V I L L E .

We allow no trifling with matters of honor ; we have brought her up in the strictest Virtue .

A GEORGE D NDIN .

’ A ll that I can tell you is that there s a cer~

a in t in courtier, whom you have seen, who is 254 GE ORGE DANDIN [ A CT I love with her under my very nose ; he is mak hi ing her professions of love, to w ch she listens willingly .

A A OTE N LL E M D ME DE S V I .

Good God! I would strangle her with my own hands if she disgraced the Virtue of her mother .

S OTE I L LE MONSIEUR DE N V .

’ Corbleu I 11 run her through with my v sword, both her and her lo er, if she has sinned against her honor .

A GEORGE D NDIN . I have told you what is going on in order to make my complaint ; I n ow ask you to do justice in the matter .

TE I L L E MONSIEUR DE S O NV .

D o u I l not be neasy as to that . wi l do jus I tice to both of you . am a man to drive this

wh o is matter home to any one, no matter it . B ut are you quite sure of what you say ?

A GEORGE D NDIN .

Q uite sure .

256 GE ORGE DANDIN [A CT I

SC E NE FI FTH

MO S UR D S OTE NV I L L E CL I TA ND R E G ORGE N IE E , , E DA NDIN

TE I L MONSIEUR DE S O NV LE . ? Monsieur, .do you know me

CL I TA N D R E .

N0 I r , not that am aware of, monsieu .

S OTE N I L LE MONSIEUR DE V .

t n ll I am the Baron de S o e vi e .

CL I TA N D R E .

I am rejoiced to hear it .

S OTE N L E MONSIEUR DE V I L . M I yname is known at court ; had the honor,

’ m r th e n in yyouth, to be the first to answe ki g s summons at Nancy .

CL I TA N D R E . That was well done !

TE NV MONSIEUR DE S O I LL E .

M - otenville y honored father , Jean Gilles de S h ad the glory of assisting in person at the great s a iege of Montaub n . SCENE V] GE ORGE DANDIN

CL I TA N D R E .

Delighted to hear it .

E MONSIEUR DE S OTE N V I L L .

A nd I S oten had an ancestor, Bertrand de ville , who was so respected in his day that he received permission to sell his property and go to foreign parts .

CL I TA N D R E .

I can readily believe it .

S OTE N I L L E MONSIEUR DE V . I t has been reported to me , monsieur, that you love and are pursuing a young person wh o is my I I daughter, in whom take an interest as also do in this man you see here ( m oti o n i n g to

or e D a ndi n Ge g ) , who has the honor to be my

-i n- law son . LI TA N D C RE . Who ? I pursuing your daughter ?

S OTE N V I L LE MONSIEUR DE . I Yes ; and am glad to meet you, in order to obtain from you, if you please, an explanation of the matter .

CL I TA N D R E . T ! his is a Very strange slander Who told you, monsieur 258 GE ORGE DANDIN [A CT I

OTE I L E MONSIEUR DE S NV L . S ome one who thinks that he is sure of it .

CL I TA ND R E . I Then that some one has lied . am an honest

D o man . you think me capable, monsieur, of so base an action ? I ! love a young and handsome woman who has the honor to be the daughter of Monsieur le Baron de S oten ville ? I respect you I too much , am too truly your obedient servant for that . Whoever told you this thing is a fool

TE I L L E MONSIEUR DE S O NV .

Now - in -la w. , son

E A GEORG D NDIN . Now what ?

CL I TA N D R E . — and a rascal and a liar .

S OTE NV I L L E to eor e D a ndi n . MONSIEUR DE , G g Answer ! answer

A GEORGE D NDIN .

Answer yourself .

CL I TA N D R E . f I I ’d I knew who it was give him , in

- presence, a sword thrust through the body .

200 GE ORGE DANDIN [A CT I

ANGELIQUE . I ? h ow could I have told him such a thing ? I s it so ? I should like to see you in love with ! me Venture to be, if you please , and you will I soon find out to whom you address yourself . advise you to make the attempt ! Have recourse

r to the tricks of love ; send me emissaries, w ite

s- me billet doux, watch for the hours when my I husband is absent, or the hours when take my walk , and then speak to me of love ; you have

I be only to do that, and promise you shall received in a suitable manner !

CL I TA N D R E .

! e . Hey la, la, madame ; gently , if you pl ase T ’ here s no cause for you to read me lessons, or to be so scandalized . Who told you that I ever dreamed of loving you ?

ANGELIQUE .

I know nothing but what they tell me here .

CL I TA N D R E .

They may say what they please ; but you know whether I have spoken to you of love

when we have chanced to meet .

E A N G LIQUE . I f you had done so you would have had your

proper answer . SCENE V I ] GE ORGE DANDIN 261

CL I TA N D R E .

I assure you you have nothing to fear from I me . am not a man to cause unhappiness to I lovely woman . respect you and your parents too much to have the slightest thought of being in love with you .

A A S OTE NV I L L E t o Geor e D a ndi n . M D ME DE , g

There you see .

TE L E MONSIEUR DE S O N V I L .

o w - - w N in la . you are satisfied , son What do do you say to that ?

A GEORGE D NDIN . I say they are pulling wool over your eyes . I I I . To know what know speak plainly , know she received a message from him just w no .

ANGELIQUE . I received a message ?

CL I TA N D R E . I sent a message ?

E ANG LIQUE . Claudine

L I T D E C AN R , to Cla udi ne.

I s that true ? 262 GE ORGE DANDIN [A CT I

CLA UDINE . N o it is the strangest falsehood .

GEORGE DA NDIN . I Hold your tongue, you jade ; know what

’ you ve been about ; it was you who took the messenger to your mistress .

CLAUDINE .

GEORGE DA NDIN .

’ Yes, you ; don t play the prim here .

CLA UDINE . Al ! as the world is full of wickedness in—these days . To go and suspect me like that ! me who am innocence itself !

GEORGE DA NDIN .

’ I ve Hold your tongue , you hussy . known

th e you a good long time ; you play demure ,

’ but you re a sly one .

A to An eli ue . CL UDINE, g q

Madame , is it

GEORGE DA NDIN . I ’11 Hold your tongue , say ; you pay dear for the folly of others, for you have no nobleman father to appeal to .

264 GE ORGE DANDI N [ACT I

To Oli ta ndre ( ) Yes, monsieur, you ought to

o make love to my mistress to punish him . G I on , and do it ; it is who tell you so your time would be well employed, and you can v I l count on me to ser e you, since am a ready

E d accused of it . ( i t )

TE MONSIEUR DE S O N V I L LE .

S - i n -law on , you deserve to have these things said of you . Your behavior must turn every one against you .

A A TE N I L L E M D ME DE S O V .

Go ; learn how to treat a well- born woman ;

' i n take care , future , to make no more such blunders .

G A a side . GEOR E D NDIN, I t makes me savage to seem wrong when I am right .

SCE NE E I GHTH

MO S UR D S OTE NV I LL E CL I TAND R E G ORG N IE E , , E E DAN DIN

L I T a i C A ND R E , to M onsi eu r de S tch v lle.

Monsieur, you have heard me falsely accused ; you are a man wh o knows the rules on a point

I n ow of honor . demand of you satisfaction for f ff the af ront that has been o ered to me . SCENE VII I] GE ORGE DANDI N

I L E MONSIEUR DE S OTE N V L . I t is a just demand, and according to the

- in - l w n . a order of proceedi g Come, son , give monsieur satisfaction .

A GEORGE D NDIN . Satisfaction

E N I L E MONSIEUR DE S OT V L .

Yes ; as the rules require when false charges have been made .

A GEORGE D NDIN .

’ ’ That s a thing I don t agree to ; I have not made false charges ; I know what I think about it .

L E MONSIEUR DE S OTE N V I L . N o matter what you think, he has denied the charge ; that is satisfactory ; no one has the right to complain of a man wh o denies the fact .

A GEORGE D NDIN .

’ S I i n I o, if find him my wife s bedroom am to let him off if he denies being there ?

L E MONSIEUR DE S OTE N V I L .

~ Come , no arguments . Make him your ex cuses . A GEORGE D NDIN . I ! h make him excuses, w en GE ORGE DANDIN

TE I MONSIEUR DE S O NV L L E .

I . Come , say ; you have no choice You need

not fear that you may go too far, for I will tell

you what to say .

A GEORGE D NDIN . I cannot

S OTE N I L LE MONSIEUR DE V .

’ Corbleu / - i n- I son law, don t stir my bile, or

n ot shall be on his side , on yours . Come , let yourself be ruled by me .

A a si de. GEORGE D NDIN, A h ! George Dandin !

S TE N I L LE MONSIEUR DE O V . F irst, your hat in hand ; monsieur is a noble man , and you are not .

AN a sid h a t i n a e h nd. GEORGE D DIN, , I ’m furious !

TE E MONSIEUR DE S O NV I L L .

R epeat after me : Monsieur

A GEORGE D NDIN . Monsieur

TE I L L E MONSIEUR DE S O NV . I ask your pardon ( S eei ng th a t George D a ndi n h esi ta tes t o obey) Ah !

268 GE ORGE DANDIN [A CT I

TE N V I L L E MONSIEUR DE S O .

N I h Th e n o ; insist that he shall finis . thi g

To or e D a ndi n must be done in due form . ( Ge g ) Go on : That I am your servant

A GEORGE D NDIN .

That I am your servant .

CL I TA N D R E . m I a . Monsieur, yours with all my heart I shall not think again of what has happened .

To M ons i eu r de S oten vi lle A s ou ( ) for y ,

I - I monsieur, bid you good day, and am sorry for the little annoyance to which you have been

subjected .

TE I E MONSIEUR DE S O NV LL .

I kiss your hands ; and I shall be most

happy, when it pleases you , to have you course

with me .

CL I TA N D R E .

You are too kind .

MONSIEUR DE S OTE NV I L LE .

Now -in - law h ow f , son , that is an af air should

be carried on . Adieu ; remember that you have entered a family which will always stand

by you, and will never allow any one to insult

you . SCENE IX ] GE ORGE DAND IN 269

SCE NE NI NTH

A a lone. GEORGE D NDIN ,

A h ! h ow I You would have it, you would have it, George Dandin, ninny , you

’ ! ou Ve would have it and now y got it, it suits you finely A pretty pass you ’ve brought your ! self to and it is just what you deserve . But the thing is n ow to undeceive the father and mother ; there must be some way to manage that .

E ND OF A CT FIRST . 270 GE ORGE DANDIN [A CT 11

Ga S m ut

SCE NE FI RST

CLA UDI LU B NE , IN

CLA UDINE . YE S I I , guessed it came from you ; was cer tain you told some one who repeated it to our master .

LUBIN . F I aith , only said a bit of .word to a man,

’ n t passing like, so as he might tell any one he had seen me coming out ; folks must be great

gabblers in these parts .

A CL UDINE .

U le pon my word, this Monsieur vicomte is mighty careful in choosing his people when he takes you for an ambassador ! He picked up a ! crooked stick in you, faith

LUBIN .

’ ’ Pshaw ! I ll be sharper next time ; I 11take

better care of myself .

CLA UDINE . N ext time, indeed

GE ORGE DA NDIN [A CT I I

A CL UDINE .

Very well, then .

LUBIN .

I n I feel my heart wobbli g when look at you .

A CL UDINE . I ’m glad of that .

LUBIN . H ow is it you manage to be so pretty ?

A CL UDINE .

I do as others do .

LUBIN .

’ Look here ; it does n t take such a lot of

u butter to make a po nd ; if you are willing, you I ’ll shall be my wife and be your husband, and ’11 we both be husband and wife .

A CL UDINE . ’ll Perhaps you be as jealous as the master .

LUBIN . ’

N I n . o, wo t A CL UDINE .

A s I I for me , hate suspicious husbands .

’ want one who is n t scared by anything ; one wh o has such confidence in my virtue that he could see me in the midst of thirty men and not

be uneasy . S c a m I] GE ORGE DANDIN

LUBIN .

’ I ll . Well, be like that

A CL UDINE . I t is the silliest thing in the world to distrust

h e a woman and torment her . T truth of the matter is , men never gain anything by it ; they put evil into our heads , and it often happens that husbands, by making such a fuss, bring the thing about themselves .

LUBIN . I ’ll Well, give you liberty to do exactly what

you like . A CL UDINE .

’ ‘ ’ That s h ow men ought to do if they don t

want to be deceived . When a husband puts himself at our discretion we only take as much

liberty as is proper . So it is with husbands who

: T open their purses and say ake all you want . T hen we treat them fairly , and content ourselves

in a reasonable way . But those who wrangle it — about why, we are forced to shear them ;

such husbands as that we never spare .

LUBIN .

’ Now I ll , see ; be one of those to open my ’11 purse , if you only marry me .

18 274 GE ORGE DANDIN [ A CT I I

A CL UDINE . ’11 Well, well, we see about it .

LUBIN .

Come here, Claudine .

A CL UDINE . What do you want ?

LUBIN .

I . Come here , say

A CL UDINE .

’ l I Al , gently ; don t like pawing .

LUBIN .

Hey ! but just a little scrap of love .

CLA UDINE .

’ L et I . I w me alone, tell you don t allo foolery .

LUBIN . Claudine

A u s hi n hi m a wa . CL UDINE , p g y

LUBIN .

H ow rude you areto a poor fellow ! Fie ! it.

’ is n t nice to push people that way ! A re not you ashamed to be so handsome and not let any

? ! . one make love to you Hey la, la

276 GE ORGE DANDIN [ACT 11

LUBIN .

r - r r Adieu, you ha d donkey d ive !

A CL UDINE .

’ T a hat s pretty speech for a lover.

LUBIN .

’ h a Adieu, rock, pebble, granite , all that s rd

est on this earth .

A l n a o e. CL UDINE,

’ I ll carry the note to my mistress at once

’ a I 11 t no, here she comes with her husb nd ; s ep

’ s aside and wait till she alone .

SCE NE SE COND

G ORG DA D A GEL U E E N IN, N IQ E

A GEORGE D NDIN .

’ N I m to a o, no ; not be deceived so e sily, and I ’m only too certain that the tale told to

was I me true . have better eyes than you think for ; and that fine talk of you rs just now

’ n t did hoodwink me . SCENE I II] GE ORGE DANDI N 277

S CE NE THI RD

CL I TAND R E GELI U G ORG DA D , AN Q E , E E N IN

a a ck o h L I TA N D R E a side t th e b t e sta e. C , , f g

A h ! here she is ; but the husband is with her .

A n ot s eei n Cli ta n dre . GEORGE D NDIN, g I Through all your lying pretences , see the truth of what has been told to me , and the little respect you feel for the marriage bond between

’ li ta ndre a n d A n eli u e bow to ea ch us . ( C g g ’ ! off s oth er. ) Good heavens leave bowing ; that I not the sort of respect want, , and you are only

n doing it in derisio .

ANGELIQUE . I ! in derision ? not I !

A GEORGE D NDIN . I I know your meaning, and know too

a n ( Cli ta ndre a n d A ngéli gu e bow a g i . ) Again Ha ! stop this mockery ! I am aware that on account of your nobility you consider me far

e I b neath you, and the respect am talking about does not concern me personally ; I am speaking of the respect you owe to bonds as venerable as

’ m A i u ma kes a s i n those of arriage . ( ngel g e g 278 GE ORGE DANDIN [ACT I I

’ to l ta n r h ! r r C i d e. ) O you need n t sh ug you I ’ shoulders ; m not saying silly things .

ANGELIQUE . Who shrugged their sho ul ders ?

A GEORGE D NDIN . Good powers ! can’t I see plainly ? I tell you once more , marriage is a chain which we must bear with respect ; and you do a very

’ n eli u e wrong thing to treat me as you do . (A g g

a m a kes sign wi th h er h ea d to Cli t a ndre. )

I n Yes , say a very wro g thing, and you need not shake your head and make faces at me .

A NGELIQUE .

’ I ? I am sure I don t know what you mean .

GEORGE DA NDIN . I know very well myself ; your contemptuous

n T I ways are nothing ew to me . hough was not born noble I come of a race which is above

reproach, and the family of the Dandins

’ L I TA N D R E behi n d An eli u e a nd not s een C , g g , r n by Geo ge D a ndi .

’ One moment s interview .

A not s eei n i a ndre. GEORGE D NDIN, g Cl t Hey ?

280 GE ORGE DANDI N [A CT II

A GEORGE D NDIN .

Yes ; but what part do you expect a husband to play while such gallantry is going on ?

ANGELIQUE .

Th e part of a decent man , who is glad to see his wife admired .

GEORGE DA NDIN .

I beg to be excused ; I have no such inten h tion . T e Dandins are not accustomed to that

style of thing .

ANGELIQ UE . Oh ! the Dandins can get accustomed to it if

A s I they choose . for me, declare to you my intention of not renouncing the world and bury

e ing myself alive with a husband . What ! b

we e cause a man chooses to marry us , must giv 011 up everything, and break all intercourse with the living ? What an amazing thing the tyranny of husbands is ! They are mighty good to wish u s to be dead to pleasure and live only for

' ’ them I scofl at all that ; and I don t mean to

die so young .

A GEORGE D NDIN .

I s that h ow you fulfil the solemn promises you made to me publicly ? SCENE I V] GE ORGE DANDIN 281

E ANG LIQUE .

I did not make them of my o wn accord ; you D id dragged them from me . you, before our I marriage , ask my consent and whether was willing to have you ? You consulted no one but my father and mother ; it was they whom

e you married, and you had bett r complain to

them of the wrongs that may be done you . F I I or my part, never told you would marry you ; you took me without consulting my

I do o feelings, and not consider myself b und I to submit, like a slave , to your will . wish,

' if you please , to enjoy my share of youth s

best years, and take all the liberty my age con I fers . mean to see a little of the world and taste the pleasure of hearing sweet things said

. i t to me You must make up your mind to , by way of punishment, and you may thank Heaven that I am not capable of doing some thing worse .

GEORGE DA NDIN . So ! that is h ow you take it ? I am your

a I I husb nd, and tell you shall not allow it .

E ANG LIQUE . I I am your wife , and tell you that that is I how shall conduct myself . 282 GE ORGE DANDI N [ACT II

A a side . GEORGE D NDIN, I am seized with a desire to make a jelly of her face and put it, for the rest of her life , out Ah ! of a condition to please that philanderer .

’ George Dandin, you can t control yourself, and ’d you better get out of here at once .

SCE NE FI FTH

GELI U CLA UD AN Q E , INE

CLA UDINE . I hi m have been all impatience to have go, I madame , that might give you this note from you know who .

A NGELIQUE .

R ea ds to h ers el . Give it . ( f )

A a s i de . CL UDINE ,

s I A far as can see , what he writes is not dis pleasing .

ANGELIQUE . A h Claudine , this note is written in a most

H ow o gallant s tyle . agreeable men ab ut

ad the court can be, both in manners and dress . Compared with them, what are these provincials

284 GE ORGE DANDI N [A CT II

L I TA N D R E i n r o C i v h e m ne . , g g y

You have obliged me very much .

to la u di e . LUBIN, C n

A s we t are going to be married, give hat to I ’ll w me, and put it ith my money .

A CL UDINE . N I ’ll o, keep it and the kiss , too .

CL I TA ND E o la R , t C u di ne. T ell me, have you given my note to your beautiful mistress ?

A CL UDINE .

. S Yes he has gone to write the answer .

CL I TA N D R E . I But, Claudine , is there no way by which can have an interview ?

A CL U DINE . I ’11 Yes , come with me ; take you to her .

CL I TA N D R E .

Will she approve ? I s there no risk ?

CLA UDINE .

N u e o, no ; her h sband is not at home ; b sides, S it is not he she is cautious about . he dreads her father and mother ; as long as they think it

’ r is all right there s nothing to fea . S CENE VII] GE ORGE DANDI N 285

CL I TA N D R E .

I resign myself to your guidance .

R a l n . LU IN, o e Thunder and lightening ! what a clever wife I ’m going to have ! She has wits enough for four .

S CE N E SE VE N

G ORG DA D L U R E E N IN, IN

A a side. GEORGE D NDIN ,

’ Here s the same man again . Please God I may induce h im to give testimony to the father ’ and mother about this thing they won t believe .

R LU IN . — ! M r. Ha so here you are , Gabbler ! you whom I so particularly charged to sa y nothing and who promised me faithfully not to . You are a gossip and go about repeating what folks sa y to you in secret .

A GEORGE D NDIN .

LUBIN .

Yes ; you went and told the husband what I told you and you are the cause of all this u p 286 GE ORGE DANDIN [A CT II

I ’m roar . very glad to know what a tongue

’ you ve got ; it warns me not to tell you any thing more .

E A GEORG D NDIN .

Listen to me, friend .

LUBIN .

’ ’ I f you were n t such a babble r I d tell you

u t what is going on now ; b , just to punish you,

’ ’ you sha n t know anything about it .

GEORGE DA NDIN .

Going on ! what is going on ?

LUBIN .

N n othing, nothi g . You see what it is to

’ gabble ; you can t get another word out of me ;

’ I ll - keep that tit bit of news to myself .

A GEORGE D NDIN .

Here, stop a minute .

LUBIN .

N . o, no

A GEORGE D NDIN .

S I . top , only want to say a word

288 GE ORGE DANDI N [A CT 11

SCE NE E I GHTH

A a lone. GEORGE D NDIN,

’ I can t get that fool to do what I want ; but

. this n ew information which he has let drop may

. I f I do as well the lover is in my house, can prove it to the eyes of the father and mother and convince them fully of their daughter ’s effron

’ o Th e I w h ow t ry . worst of it is, don t kno to I f I make the most of the chance . go into the house , that scoundrel will manage to get out of it ; and no matter what I see myself of my dis

’ ’ I n t d honor, should be believed on oath ; they I I f I tell me dreamed it . , on the other hand,

- - - go and fetch father i n law and mother in- law

n without bei g sure the lover is there, it will be the same thing over again ; I shall only tum

’ ble into a scrape just like the last . Could n t I ? make sure, very softly , if he is in there

L ooks th rou h th e ke h ole o t h e door. A h ( g y f ) , ’ heavens ! there s no doubt at all ; I see him . Fate gives me a chance to confound my wife ; ! ff and , bless me as if to complete the a air, it actually brings the judges whom I want to the very spot . S CENE IX ] GE ORGE DANDI N 289

SCE N E NINTH

D M D MO SI UR D OTE NV I LLE G ORG MA A E A N N E E S , E E DANDIN

A GEORGE D NDIN .

n ow You would not believe me just , and your daughter got the better of me ; but I n ow have

‘ in my hand the means of showing you h ow she

T od n behaves . hank G , my dishonor is so plai

’ now that you can t doubt it .

A A E M D ME DE S OTE NV I L L .

-in -law What, son , are you still harping upon that ?

GEORGE DA NDIN . I I Yes, am ; and never had better reason to d o so . A A TE I L LE M D ME DE S O N V . A re you going to din all that into our ears again ? A GEORGE D NDIN .

Yes, madame ; and my ears are worse treated st ill . OTE N I L L E MONSIEUR DE S V .

A re you not weary of making all this trouble ?

A GEORGE D NDIN . I am weary of being taken for a dupe .

19 GE ORGE DANDI N [A CT 11

A A TE I L LE M D ME DE S O NV . Will you never get rid of these outrageous ideas ? A GEORGE D NDIN .

No madame ; but I should like to get rid of a i h w fe w o dishonors me .

A A TE E M D ME DE S O N V I L L .

’ F -ih - law or Heaven s sake, son , learn to speak decently .

E I L E MONSIEUR DE S OT N V L .

Corbleu choose language less insultingthan that .

GEORGE DA NDIN .

’ He wh o is pushed to the wall does n t pick his

s word . I E MA DA ME DE S OTE N V L L .

R emember that you have married a lady .

G A GEOR E D NDIN .

I remember that well enough ; and shall

n member it far too lo g .

TE N I L L E MONSIEUR DE S O V . I f you do remember it, be careful to speak of

her with respect .

292 GE ORGE DANDI N [A CT II

T N I L E MONSIEUR DE S O E V L .

Yes, the honor of our family is more precious I f l to us than all else . you say true, we sha l

n our renounce her as not belo ging to blood, and give her up to your just anger .

G A N GEOR E D DIN .

You have only to follow me .

A A TE I L L E M D ME DE S O N V .

Be careful you are not deceived .

E E MONSIEUR DE S OT N V I L L .

D o Ou not make the same mistake y did before .

A GEORGE D NDIN .

Heavens ! you shall see ( P oi n ti ng to Cli ta n dre wh o comes ou t of th e h ou se wi th

’ Angeli gu e) There ! have I lied ?

SCE N E TE NTH

GEL U CL I TA ND R E CLA UDI MO S UR A ND AN IQ E , , NE , N IE MA DA M D S OTE NV I L L E A ND G ORG DA D a t E E , E E N IN, the ba ck of the stage

E to li ta dre. ANG LIQUE , C n Adieu ; I am afraid of a surprise ; I must be

careful .

CL I TA N D R E . I But promise me, madame , that may see you

- again to night . Sca m X] GE ORGE DANDIN 293

E ANG LIQUE .

I will do my best .

A o M onsi eu r a M a a me GEORGE D NDIN, t nd d

de S oten vi lle.

L et us get nearer to them softly , from behind ; and try not to be seen .

A o A n eli t u e. CL UDINE , g q A h ! ! madame , all is lost Here come your

father and mother, and your husband .

CL I TA N D R E . Heavens

N E a li ta n dr a d a u t C e n l di n e. A G LIQUE , C

’ Don t notice them ; leave me to manage all . (A lou d to Cli ta n dre) What ! do you dare to treat me thus after what happened to day ? I s this the way you conceal your feelings ? They

told me you were in love with me , and had I designs upon my V irtue . showed you my I displeasure . explained myself clearly to you

n before all present . You denied the thi g loudly , and gave me your word you had no intention of

th e insulting me ; and yet, very same day, you are bold enough to come here to my house f and tell me you love me, and of er me a hun dred foolish persuasions to listen to your mad

A s I ness . if were a woman to violate my 294 G E ORGE DANDI N [A CT II

pledges to my husband, and to abandon forever the virtue in which my parents trained me ! I f my father knew of this he would teach you to attempt such enterprises . But a modest woman hates scandal ; I shall tell him nothi ng about it ; but I will show you ( signi ng to Cla u di n e t a gi ve h er a s ti ck) that I have courage I enough, woman as am, to revenge myself for

Th e such an insult . conduct you have shown is not that of a gentleman, therefore it is not as

’ I An eli u r a gentleman that treat you . ( g g e p e t nds to s tri ke Cli ta dre mov s rou nd so e n , bu t ie th a t th e blows fa ll o n George D a ndi n . )

L I TA N D R E cr i n ou t a s s tru ck a nd C , y g if ,

escap i ng . Ah ! ah ! ah ! gently !

SCE NE E LE VE NTH

O S UR A ND MA DA M D S OTE NVI L LE GEL U M N IE E E , AN IQ E , G ORG DA D CLA UD E E N IN, INE

CLA UDINE . ! Hard, madame , strike hard

E retendi n to s ea k t o Cli t a ndre. ANG LIQUE , p g p I f there is anything more you wish to say I am ready to answer it .

296 GE ORGE DANDIN [ A CT I I

A a si de. GEORGE D NDIN, E ugh ! traitress !

OTE N V I L LE MONSIEUR DE S .

- in - ? What is amiss, son law Why do you not thank your wife for the affection which you have seen her show for you ?

ANGELIQUE .

N s . o, no, father ; that is not neces ary He is under no obligation to me for what he has just

- I . seen . What did was for my own self respect

OTE NV I L LE MONSIEUR DE S . ? Where are you going, my daughter

AN GELIQUE . I retire , father, to be spared the necessity of receiving his compliments .

A to eor e D a n . CL UDINE , G g ndi

’ She has good reason to be angry ; there s a

’ wh o wife ought to be adored, and you don t treat her properly .

A a side. GEORGE D NDIN, Wretch SCENE X III] GE ORGE DA NDI N 297

SCE NE TWE LFTH

MO S UR A ND MA DA M D S OTE NV I L LE G ORG N IE E E , E E DA NDIN

I E R S TE N I L M ON S U DE O V LE . She feels some resentment about the late affair ; but it will all pass off if you caress her

e -in -law n o w a littl . Adieu, son ; you are re

liev ed . Go from all anxiety in , and make peace together ; try to pacify her with a few excuses for you r anger .

A A S TE I L E M D ME DE O NV L .

You ought to consider that she was a young girl brought up to Virtue who is, therefore , not accustomed to find herself suspected of shameful I actions . am thankful to see your troubles en ded ; her conduct ought to fill you with transports of joy .

SCE NE THIR TE E N TH

G A a lon e. GEOR E D NDIN , I I said nothing, for what should gain by speaking ? Never was anything seen to equal m ! I y defeat Yes, admire my own misfortune , 298 GE ORGE DANDIN [ACT II and the clever way my jade of a wife mana ges to put herself in the right . A m I fated to get the worst of it with her ? Will appearances always turn against me ? Shall I never succeed in convicting that brazen creature ? Heaven f help my ef orts , and grant me grace to prove w to every one h o she dishonors me .

E N D F A T O C SECOND .

300 GE ORGE DANDIN [A CT I II

CL I TA N D R E .

’ T s fi c hat a great question and dif ult to solve .

S d n o you are thirsting for knowle ge , Lubi , hey ?

LUBIN . I I Yes ; if had gone to school, should have thought about things nobody has ever thought about before .

CL I TA N D R E .

I believe you ; you look as if you had a subtle and penetrating mind .

R LU IN . I You are right . Why , do you know, can I make out Latin , though never learned it ; the

I saw a bi other day , when at the top of g door

Co lle i u m I the word g , knew at once that meant college .

CL I TA N D R E .

! S ? Wonderful o you can read, Lubin

LUBIN . I I Yes, can read printed letters ; but never learned to read writing .

CL I TA N D R E .

we . Cla s hi s Here are , close to the house ( p

s . T ha nd ) hat is the signal Claudine gave me . SCENE II ] GE ORGE DA NDI N 301

LUBIN . I Faith ! that girl is worth money . love her

with all my heart .

CL I TA N D R E .

’ ’ That s why I ve brought you to talk to her .

LUBIN .

I . follow you , monsieur

CL I TA N D R E .

Hush ! I hear a voice .

SCE NE SE C OND

GEL U CLA UD CLI TA ND R E LUB AN IQ E , INE , , IN

GE AN LIQUE . Claudine A CL UDINE . Well E ANG LIQUE .

- Leave the door half open .

A CL UDINE . I have .

Nigh t scen e ; th ey a ll try to fi nd on e

o th er i n th e da rkn ess . 302 GE ORGE DA NDIN [A CT II I

N D R E L u bi n . CL I TA , to Here they are ! Hist !

ANGELIQUE . Hist

LUBIN . Hist

CLA UDINE . Hist !

L I TA D R E l i wh om C N , C a u d n e,

’ A eli u ng g e. Madame

E to L u bi n wh om s h e ta kes or ANG LIQUE , , f

Cli ta n dre. What

’ to A n eli u e wh om h e ta kes or LUBIN , g g , f

Cla u di ne. Claudine

A to li ta n dre wh om sh e ta kes or CL UDINE , C , f

L u bi n . What is it ?

L I TA N D R E o l u di n t hi n ki n h e s ea ks C , t C a e, g p ’ n eli u e t o A g g . A h ! ! madame , what happiness

’ to An el u e thi nki n h e s ea ks to LUBIN , g ig , g p

Cla u di ne. h ! ! A Claudine, my dear Claudine

304 GE ORGE DANDIN [A CT III

CL I TA N D R E .

L et us find a place to be seated .

A CL UDINE .

’ s Yes, that advisable .

’ A n eli u e Cli ta n dre a n d Cla u di n e g g , , th e ba ck o th e s a a n d si t do n f t ge w .

h r u n ti n o la u di ne. LUBIN , g f C Claudine ! where are you ?

SCE NE THI RD

GEL U CL I TA ND R E CLA UD a t the ba ck o the AN IQ E , , INE , f

sta e G ORG DA DI ha l dressed L UB g , E E N N, f , IN

A a i de . GEORGE D NDIN, s I I heard my wife go down , and have dressed as fast as I could to follow her . Where can she have gone ? She must have left the house .

R h u n ti n or Cla u di n e t a kes Geor e LU IN, g f , g

r D a ndi n for h e .

? Oh ! Where are you , Claudine , here you are

F n ow ! I aith , your master is finely fooled think t h is is quite as funny as that stick busi n ess you told me abo ut . Your mistress says SCENE I II ] GE ORGE D AND IN 305

’ ! he s snoring like the deuce upstairs . Ha he little thinks that she and Monsieur le vicomte

’ s I are down here together while he asleep . I ! wish knew what he is dreaming about Well, it ’s laughable ! What does he mean by being

n jealous of a woma , and wanting her all to him

? a le self He is saucy fellow, and Monsieur

’ vicomte does him too much honor . Why don t

’ ? s you answer me , Claudine Come, let follow their example ; give me your dear little fist, that A h ! ’ I may kiss it . it s so soft ; it is like eat

u Geor e D a ndi n wh om h ing s garplums ( g , e

a k s or l u di n e u s h es h im a wa rou l t e C a h . f , p y g y) Thunder ! how you behave ! That little fist of yours is pretty rude .

A GEORGE D NDIN .

’ Who s there ?

esca i n LUBIN , p g .

Nobody .

A GEORGE D NDIN .

’ He s gone ! No matter ; he has warn ed me

’ n ew I ll of this infamy of my rascally wife .

send at once for her father and mother ; this affair will certain ly entitle me to separate from ! . a ! her Hol , Colin Colin

20 306 GE ORGE DA NDIN [A CT I II

SCE NE FOUR TH

GEL U CL I TA ND R E CL A UDI LUR ba ck AN IQ E , , NE , IN, , G ORG DA D COL I E E N IN, N

wi n a t a dow. COLIN , Monsieur ! G A GEOR E D NDIN . ! Come down here , quick

O u m in ou t o th e wi ndow C LIN, j p g f . I ’ Here am ; could n t come quicker .

G A GEOR E D NDIN . A re you there ?

COLIN .

. Whi le eor e D a n i Yes, monsieur ( G g d n s ea rch es for h i m on th e si de wh ere h e h ea rs

c i h is voi e, Col n crosses t o th e oth er s ide, si ts

w a ro s a s do n n d d p leep . )

GEORGE DA NDIN ( spea ki ng to th e side wh ere

h e t hi n ks Co li n i s) .

S lo w o oftly ; speak . Listen . G to my father in -law - i n - law I and mother , and say want them

o ? to come here immediately . D you hear ! immediately . Hey ! Colin Colin !

on th e oth er s i de wa ki n u . COLIN, , g p Monsieur !

308 GE ORGE DANDIN [ A CT In

A GEORGE D NDIN . Come here

COLIN . N I o, not

A GEORGE D NDIN . I Come , say .

COLIN .

N o u o, y want to strike me .

A GEORGE D NDIN . ! I ’ Well there no won t hurt you.

COLIN . a Cert in, sure

GEORGE DA NDIN .

. Ta him b Yes . Come here Good . ( kes y th e I rm . 0 a ) Lucky for you want your services . G

at once to my father-in -law and my mother-in

law , and tell them to come here as soon as they

S u t possibly can . ay it is for a matter of the most consequence ; and if they make any diffi

culty on account of the hour, tell them it is t very important they should come , no mat er

o in what state they are . D you understand me this time ?

COLIN .

Yes, monsieur . SCENE V] GE ORGE DANDI N 309

A GEORGE D NDIN .

Go quickly , and come back as fast as you

i n n i l l . Th ki h mse a on e S can ( g f ) A for me, I shall return to the house and wait until

an But I hear some one . C it be my wife ? I must listen . Luckily the darkness helps me .

a nds cl s to th wa ll o ( S t o e e f th e h ou se. )

SCE NE FIFTH

GEL U CL I TA ND R E CLA UDI LUR G ORG AN IQ E , , NE , IN, E E DA NDI N

E t o l ta n dr i . ANG LIQUE , C e

Adieu ; it is time to part .

CL I TA N D R E . What so soon ?

A GE N LIQUE .

You have been with me long enough .

CL I TA N D R E . Ah ! I madame, can ever be with you long enough ? D o these short interviews give me time to say all that I desire ? I need whole I h days to fully express what I feel . ave not

yet said to you one half that is in my mind.

ANGELIQUE .

r We shall have other oppo tunities . 310 GE ORGE DANDIN [ACT I II

CL I TA N D R E . Al as ! you stab me to the heart when you talk of leaving me ; with what grief shall I lose you n ow !

ANGELIQUE .

We will find means to meet again .

CL I TA N D R E .

Yes ; but when I reflect that in leaving me you return to a husband, the mere thought kills me ; the privileges of a husband are cruel things to a lover .

AN GELIQUE . A re you so foolish as to make yourself uneasy on that score ? D o you imagine that women are capable of loving certain husbands that I know of ? We take them because we must ; we are

wh o n o forced to obey our parents, have eyes except for money ; but we know h ow to do fu ll justice on our husbands ; an d we scorn to treat them otherwise than as they deserve .

A a side. GEORGE D NDIN, Th e jades these are our wives !

CL I TA N D R E . I t must be admitted on all sides that the man they have given you is little worthy of the ,

GE ORGE DAN DI N [A m 111

CL I TA N D R E .

I must submit, as you demand it . But, at I least, conjure you to pity me for the dismal hours that I must pass alone .

E ANG LIQUE .

Adieu.

LUBIN .

Where are you, Claudine , that I may say good-night ?

CLA UDINE .

’ o ! a I ll G , go say it at a dist nce, and say back .

S C E N E S E V E N T H

GEL U CLA UDI AN IQ E , NE

ANGELIQUE .

Let us get in without the slightest noise .

A CL UDINE .

Madame, the door is locked !

ANGELIQUE .

- I have a pass key .

A CL UDINE .

Open it softly . SCENE V II I ] GE ORGE DANDI N 313

E ANG LIQUE .

Th e door is bolted within ! What shall we do 1 A CL UDINE . i Call Col n, who sleeps below .

E ANG LIQUE . Colin Colin ! Colin !

SCE NE E I GHTH

G ORG DA D GEL U CLA UD E E N IN, AN IQ E , INE

A a t th e wi ndow . GEORGE D NDIN , ! A h Colin Colin ! indeed . ha ! so I have

- ? caught you, my lady Wife You are playing pranks while you think me asleep ? I am glad of it, and glad to see you out there at this time of night . E ANG LIQUE .

’ A nd s pray, where the harm of my going out for a breath of the cool night air .

A GEORGE D NDIN . h ! O , yes it is such a proper hour to be getting

! I t n fresh air is somethi g warmer than that, I my wife , that you have been after . know all

z n I about your rende vous with that popi jay . 314 GE ORGE DANDIN [ A CT I II overheard your gallant conversation and the

n e pretty things you both said in my honor . O

n o w comfort is, I can be avenged . Your father and mother can ’t fail this time to be convinced of the justice of my complaints and the prof

li ac . g y of your conduct I have sent for them, and they will be here in a moment .

GE AN LIQUE . Oh , heavens

A CL UDINE . Madame A GEORGE D NDIN . This is a stroke that you doubtless did not

o w I expect . N comes my triumph ; have it in my power to bring down your pride , and defeat

U n o w your artful tricks . ntil you have foiled my accusations , hoodwinked your parents, and N whitewashed your evil deeds . o matter what

I saw I , or what said, your wiliness has got the better of my facts ; you have always found

n to mea s put me in the wrong . But this time,

od thank G , the truth is going to be made plain, and your barefaced effrontery will be fully exposed .

ANGELIQUE .

! r Ah I beg of you to open the doo .

316 GE ORGE DANDIN [A or' III

A GEORGE D NDIN .

NO I . , thank you

ANGELIQUE . A h ! my poor little husband ! I entreat you !

GEORGE DA NDIN . A h ! ! I ’m my poor little husband Yes, your poor little husband because you feel your

f I am sel caught . glad of it ; you never said such sweet things to me before .

A NGELIQUE .

I promise to give you no further cause for complaint and

A GEORGE D NDIN . I That has nothing to do with it . shall not

n w I t lose my chance o . is very important for h me that your parents s all know, once for all, what your behavior has been .

A NGELIQUE .

’ F n or pity s sake , let me speak with you o ly one moment . A GEORGE D NDIN .

Well, say on ; what is it !

AN GELIQUE . I t is true that I have done wrong ; I acknowl edge it once more ; your anger is just ; I took SCENE VIII ] GE ORGE DANDIN the time when I knew you were asleep to come

e out to a rend zvous, and that rendezvo us was an appointment I had with the person you have named . But this is a wrong you ought to for give to one of my age ; it was the folly of a girl who has seen nothing of the world she has just entered ; who has used her liberty without a thought of harm ; and in her heart is not

A GEORGE D NDIN .

Yes, so you say ; but those are things that

’ need n t be religiously believed .

ANGELIQUE . I do not seek to excuse myself for the wrong I have done you ; I only ask you to forget an offence for which I ask your pardon with all my heart, and to spare me the grief which the angry reproaches of my father and mother will I f cause me . you will generously grant the I pardon ask , this great goodness, this kind ness, will win me wholly ; it will touch my heart, and give birth to sentiments which neither my parents ’ power nor the bonds of

I n marriage could make me feel for you . a

co word, you will bring me to renounce all qu etry and I shall feel attachment to you

Yes I alone . , give you my word you shall 318 GE ORGE DA NDIN [A c r IlI

I in future find me the best of wives, and w ill show you such love, such love, that you l wil indeed be satisfied .

A GEORGE D NDIN .

Crocodile cajoling men to strangle them .

ANGELIQUE . Grant me this kindness !

A GEORGE D NDIN .

N I o am inexorable .

E ANG LIQUE . Be generous

G A GEOR E D NDIN .

ANGELIQUE . For mercy ’s sake !

GEORGE DA NDIN N ever . E ANG LIQUE . I m i plore you with all my strength .

A GEORGE D NDIN .

N . I o, no, no am determined that your father and mother shall be undeceived about l you, and that your shame sha l confound you .

320 GE ORGE DANDI N [ A CT II I themselves to destroy men who are cruel enough to drive them to such extremities .

G A GEOR E D NDIN .

’ I amnot taken in by that . People don t kill

e T themselves in thes days . hat fashion went

out long ago . A E NG LIQUE .

You may be certain that I shall do it ; and if you persist in your refusal to Open that door I swear that I will instantly show you to what lengths a woman can go when she is driven to

desperation .

G A GEOR E D NDIN . Stuff and nonsense ! you are only trying to

frighten me . GE AN LIQUE . ! I Alas, then since must, this will end the matter and show if I am deceiving you ( pre

n l t en di g t o sta b h erse f ). Pray Heaven my death may be aven ged as I desire ; and that he who caused it may receive the just punishment for hi s cruelty to me !

A GEORGE D NDIN . Goodness can she be so malicious as to have really killed herself to get me hanged ? I ’ll

ta kes a ca n dle . take a light, and see ( ) SCENE X] GE ORGE DANDI N 321

SCE NE NI N TH

GELI U CL A UD AN Q E , INE

E to Cla u di n ANG LIQUE , e.

we must stand close to the door, one

side of it .

SCE NE TE N TH

NGEL U CLA UD I G ORG DA DI c omi n out A IQ E , NE , E E N N, g w c d e i his h ith a a n l n a nd . A s he co mes out A ngelique

a nd Cla udine sli i n a nd lock the door behind them p , .

O G A ca n dl i n h a GE R E D NDIN , e n d.

’ Th e s m wickednes of wo an can t go so far .

’ L s a o t o a ll si d s ( ook b u n e . ) There s no one ! here . Hey I thought as much ; the jade has

off taken herself , finding that she can get nothing out of me either by tears or threats . So much the better ! it only makes matters worse for her ; and the father and mother,

’ all th e who ll be here in a minute , will be

o s to h doo r more convinced of her sin . ( G e t e

a r ! . nd t i es to en ter. ) Ha the door is locked a ! S ! Hol , ho ome one Open the door at once ! 322 GE ORGE DANDI N [A CT I I I

S CE NE E LE VE N TH

GEL U AND CLA UD a t the window G ORGE AN IQ E INE , E DA NDIN

ANGELIQUE . What ! is that you ? Where do you come

? I s from, you old drunkard this a proper ? hour to be coming home Why , it is nearly

D o i daylight . you think this the sort of l fe a decent hu sband ought to lead ?

A GEORGE D NDIN . What ! do you

ANGELIQUE .

Go ! go ! you wretch ; I am tired of your I behavior . shall complain at once to my

father and mother.

GEORGE DA NDIN .

I s it possible that you dare

GE ORGE DANDIN [A or' II I

A A TE N I L L E M D ME DE S O V . — Such horrible impudence ! to send for us here ! A GEORGE D NDIN . Never

ANGELIQUE .

N I o o, father ; can no l nger endure such a husband . My patience is exhausted . He has l been saying the most insu ting things to me .

U S OTE N V I L L E to Geor e D a n di n . MONSIE R DE , g

orb u - C le you are a most ill bred man .

A CL UDINE .

I t is a dreadful thing to see a poor you ng wife I t so used . cries to Heaven for vengeance .

A GEORGE D NDIN . Can you

TE N I L E MONSIEUR DE S O V L .

You ought to die of shame .

A GEORGE D NDIN . t Le me say two words to you .

AN E G LIQUE . — ’ You have only to listen to him h e ll you fine tales. SCENE x11] GE ORGE DA NDI N 325

G A a sid GEOR E D NDIN , e. Hopeless to say a word !

A CL UDINE . He has drunk so much it is sickening to be near him ; the smell of his breath comes up here .

E A M n i l to ons ieu r e o e v le. G ORGE D NDIN, d S t I Monsieur, entreat you

TE N I L L E MONSIEUR DE S O V . R ff etire, if you please ; you are o ensive from the win e you have drunk .

A to M a da m e de S otenvi lle. GEORGE D NDIN, I Madame , beg of you

A A E I L L E M D ME DE S OT N V .

’ Fie ! don t come nearer ; your breath is pestiferous .

G O G A to M onsi eu r de S otenvi lle. E R E D NDIN, A l low me to

TE I L L E MONSIEUR DE S O N V .

I . R etire, say ; your presence is intolerable

E E A to M a da m e de S atch vi lle. G OR G D NDIN, F ’ or Heaven s sake , permit me to 326 GE ORGE DAND IN [A CT I II

A T I E MA D ME DE S O E N V L L .

a Faugh you sicken me . Speak at a dist nce

if you must speak .

G A GEOR E D NDIN . I ’ll . I Yes, speak at a distance swear that I have never stirred from my house ; and it was she who left it .

GE t o h er a th er. AN LIQUE , f What did I tell you ?

A E CL UDIN .

See h ow barefaced he is

S OTE NV I L L E to eor e D a ndi n . MONSIEUR DE , G g

You are trying to make fools of us . ( To

’

An eli u e . g g ) Come down here , my daughter

SC E NE THI R TE E NTH

MO S UR A ND MA DA M D S OTE NVI L L E G ORG N IE E E , E E

DA DI COL N N, IN

A GEORGE D NDIN . I I swear to Heaven was in the house , and

TE L LE MONSIEUR DE S O N V I .

Be silent ! this folly is not to be endured.

328 GE ORGE DANDI N [A CT III

GE AN LIQUE . I ! pardon him for what he dared to say to me ? N I m o, no , father ; can never bring yself to that . I beg you to separate me from a hus band with whom it is impossible for me to live .

A CL UDINE .

You cannot refuse her .

S OTE N I L L E MONSIEUR DE V . M y daughter, such separations are never made without great scandal . You must show yourself wiser and better than he ; and be patient with him . GE AN LIQUE . P ! ! N atient after such indignities o , father, I that is a thing to which cannot consent .

TE MONSIEUR DE S O N V I L L E . I You must, my daughter ; command you to

obey me .

ANGELIQUE . That word will close my lips ; you have all

power over me . A CL UDINE . What gentleness !

N E A G LIQUE . T hough it is hard to forget such injuries,

I . still, at any cost, will obey you SCENE X I V ] GE ORGE DANDIN 329

A CL UDINE . P oor lamb !

’ O S OTE N V I L LE to A n e i M NSIEUR DE , g l gu e.

Come nearer .

E ANG LIQUE .

A ll that you say will be of no avail ; to morrow he will do the same thing over again .

S OTE N V I L L E MONSIEUR DE . I T shall see to that . ( o George D a ndi n)

Come , kneel down .

A GEOR GE D NDIN . Kneel down ?

TE N V I L L E MONSIEUR DE S O .

Yes, on vour knees, instantly .

E A on h is knees ca n dle GEORG D NDIN, ,

h a n d.

(A si de) Oh ! heaven s ! ( To M on si eu r Sotenvi lle) What am I to say ?

MONSIEUR DE S OTE NV I L LE . I Madame, beg you to pardon me

GEORGE DA NDIN . M I adame , beg you to pardon me 330 GE ORGE DANDIN [ A CT I II

S OTE N I LL E MONSIEUR DE V .

Th e folly I have committed

A GEORGE D NDIN .

Th e folly I have committed ( a side) in mar r i n y g you .

S OTE N I L L E MONSIEUR DE V .

A nd I promise to live better in future

A GEORGE D NDIN .

I A nd promise to live better in future .

U D E S OTE N V I L L E to Geor e D a n di n . MONSIE R , g

Be careful to keep that promise ; for this is the last insolence on your part that we shall overlook .

A A S OTE N I L E M D ME DE V L . I f you do such things again you will be tau ght the respect which you owe to your wife m and to those from who she issues .

S OTE N I L L E MONSIEUR DE V .

Th e day is dawning . ( To George D a n di n)

o G in ; and strive in future to be a better man .

To M a da me de S otenvi lle ( ) Come, my love, let us go back to bed again .