Chapter: ACT III     SCENE I

  DAMIS, DORINE


  DAMIS
  May lightning strike me dead this very instant,
  May I be everywhere proclaimed a scoundrel,
  If any reverence or power shall stop me,
  And if I don't do straightway something desperate!

  DORINE
  I beg you, moderate this towering passion;
  Your father did but merely mention it.
  Not all things that are talked of turn to facts;
  The road is long, sometimes, from plans to acts.

  DAMIS
  No, I must end this paltry fellow's plots,
  And he shall hear from me a truth or two.

  DORINE
  So ho! Go slow now. Just you leave the fellow--
  Your father too--in your step-mother's hands.
  She has some influence with this Tartuffe,
  He makes a point of heeding all she says,
  And I suspect that he is fond of her.
  Would God 'twere true!--'Twould be the height of humour
  Now, she has sent for him, in your behalf,
  To sound him on this marriage, to find out
  What his ideas are, and to show him plainly
  What troubles he may cause, if he persists
  In giving countenance to this design.
  His man says, he's at prayers, I mustn't see him,
  But likewise says, he'll presently be down.
  So off with you, and let me wait for him.

  DAMIS
  I may be present at this interview.

  DORINE
  No, no! They must be left alone.

  DAMIS
  I won't
  So much as speak to him.

  DORINE
  Go on! We know you
  And your high tantrums. Just the way to spoil things!
  Be off.

  DAMIS
  No, I must see--I'll keep my temper.

  DORINE
  Out on you, what a plague! He's coming. Hide!

  (Damis goes and hides in the closet at the back of the stage.)




SCENE II    TARTUFFE, DORINE


  TARTUFFE (speaking to his valet, off the stage, as soon as he sees
  Dorine is there)
  Lawrence, put up my hair-cloth shirt and scourge,
  And pray that Heaven may shed its light upon you.
  If any come to see me, say I'm gone
  To share my alms among the prisoners.

  DORINE (aside)
  What affectation and what showing off!

  TARTUFFE
  What do you want with me?

  DORINE
  To tell you ...

  TARTUFFE (taking a handkerchief from his pocket)
  Ah!
  Before you speak, pray take this handkerchief.

  DORINE
  What?

  TARTUFFE
  Cover up that bosom, which I can't
  Endure to look on. Things like that offend
  Our souls, and fill our minds with sinful thoughts.

  DORINE
  Are you so tender to temptation, then,
  And has the flesh such power upon your senses?
  I don't know how you get in such a heat;
  For my part, I am not so prone to lust,
  And I could see you stripped from head to foot,
  And all your hide not tempt me in the least.

  TARTUFFE
  Show in your speech some little modesty,
  Or I must instantly take leave of you.

  DORINE
  No, no, I'll leave you to yourself; I've only
  One thing to say: Madam will soon be down,
  And begs the favour of a word with you.

  TARTUFFE
  Ah! Willingly.

  DORINE (aside)
  How gentle all at once!
  My faith, I still believe I've hit upon it.

  TARTUFFE
  Will she come soon?

  DORINE
  I think I hear her now.
  Yes, here she is herself; I'll leave you with her.




SCENE III   ELMIRE, TARTUFFE


  TARTUFFE
  May Heaven's overflowing kindness ever
  Give you good health of body and of soul,
  And bless your days according to the wishes
  And prayers of its most humble votary!

  ELMIRE
  I'm very grateful for your pious wishes.
  But let's sit down, so we may talk at ease.

  TARTUFFE (after sitting down)
  And how are you recovered from your illness?

  ELMIRE (sitting down also)
  Quite well; the fever soon let go its hold.

  TARTUFFE
  My prayers, I fear, have not sufficient merit
  To have drawn down this favour from on high;
  But each entreaty that I made to Heaven
  Had for its object your recovery.

  ELMIRE
  You're too solicitous on my behalf.

  TARTUFFE
  We could not cherish your dear health too much;
  I would have given mine, to help restore it.

  ELMIRE
  That's pushing Christian charity too far;
  I owe you many thanks for so much kindness.

  TARTUFFE
  I do far less for you than you deserve.

  ELMIRE
  There is a matter that I wished to speak of
  In private; I am glad there's no one here
  To listen.

  TARTUFFE
  Madam, I am overjoyed.
  'Tis sweet to find myself alone with you.
  This is an opportunity I've asked
  Of Heaven, many a time; till now, in vain.

  ELMIRE
  All that I wish, is just a word from you,
  Quite frank and open, hiding nothing from me.

  (DAMIS, without their seeing him, opens the closet door halfway.)

  TARTUFFE
  I too could wish, as Heaven's especial favour,
  To lay my soul quite open to your eyes,
  And swear to you, the trouble that I made
  About those visits which your charms attract,
  Does not result from any hatred toward you,
  But rather from a passionate devotion,
  And purest motives ...

  ELMIRE
  That is how I take it,
  I think 'tis my salvation that concerns you.

  TARTUFFE (pressing her finger tips)
  Madam, 'tis so; and such is my devotion ...

  ELMIRE
  Ouch! but you squeeze too hard.

  TARTUFFE
  Excess of zeal.
  In no way could I ever mean to hurt you,
  And I'd as soon ...

  (He puts his hand on her knee.)

  ELMIRE
  What's your hand doing there?

  TARTUFFE
  Feeling your gown; the stuff is very soft.

  ELMIRE
  Let be, I beg you; I am very ticklish.

  (She moves her chair away, and Tartuffe brings his nearer.)

  TARTUFFE (handling the lace yoke of Elmire's dress)
  Dear me how wonderful in workmanship
  This lace is! They do marvels, nowadays;
  Things of all kinds were never better made.

  ELMIRE
  Yes, very true. But let us come to business.
  They say my husband means to break his word.
  And marry Mariane to you. Is't so?

  TARTUFFE
  He did hint some such thing; but truly, madam,
  That's not the happiness I'm yearning after;
  I see elsewhere the sweet compelling charms
  Of such a joy as fills my every wish.

  ELMIRE
  You mean you cannot love terrestrial things.

  TARTUFFE
  The heart within my bosom is not stone.

  ELMIRE
  I well believe your sighs all tend to Heaven,
  And nothing here below can stay your thoughts.

  TARTUFFE
  Love for the beauty of eternal things
  Cannot destroy our love for earthly beauty;
  Our mortal senses well may be entranced
  By perfect works that Heaven has fashioned here.
  Its charms reflected shine in such as you,
  And in yourself, its rarest miracles;
  It has displayed such marvels in your face,
  That eyes are dazed, and hearts are rapt away;
  I could not look on you, the perfect creature,
  Without admiring Nature's great Creator,
  And feeling all my heart inflamed with love
  For you, His fairest image of Himself.
  At first I trembled lest this secret love
  Might be the Evil Spirit's artful snare;
  I even schooled my heart to flee your beauty,
  Thinking it was a bar to my salvation.
  But soon, enlightened, O all lovely one,
  I saw how this my passion may be blameless,
  How I may make it fit with modesty,
  And thus completely yield my heart to it.
  'Tis I must own, a great presumption in me
  To dare make you the offer of my heart;
  My love hopes all things from your perfect goodness,
  And nothing from my own poor weak endeavour.
  You are my hope, my stay, my peace of heart;
  On you depends my torment or my bliss;
  And by your doom of judgment, I shall be
  Blest, if you will; or damned, by your decree.

  ELMIRE
  Your declaration's turned most gallantly;
  But truly, it is just a bit surprising.
  You should have better armed your heart, methinks,
  And taken thought somewhat on such a matter.
  A pious man like you, known everywhere ...

  TARTUFFE
  Though pious, I am none the less a man;
  And when a man beholds your heavenly charms,
  The heart surrenders, and can think no more.
  I know such words seem strange, coming from me;
  But, madam, I'm no angel, after all;
  If you condemn my frankly made avowal
  You only have your charming self to blame.
  Soon as I saw your more than human beauty,
  You were thenceforth the sovereign of my soul;
  Sweetness ineffable was in your eyes,
  That took by storm my still resisting heart,
  And conquered everything, fasts, prayers, and tears,
  And turned my worship wholly to yourself.
  My looks, my sighs, have spoke a thousand times;
  Now, to express it all, my voice must speak.
  If but you will look down with gracious favour
  Upon the sorrows of your worthless slave,
  If in your goodness you will give me comfort
  And condescend unto my nothingness,
  I'll ever pay you, O sweet miracle,
  An unexampled worship and devotion.
  Then too, with me your honour runs no risk;
  With me you need not fear a public scandal.
  These court gallants, that women are so fond of,
  Are boastful of their acts, and vain in speech;
  They always brag in public of their progress;
  Soon as a favour's granted, they'll divulge it;
  Their tattling tongues, if you but trust to them,
  Will foul the altar where their hearts have worshipped.
  But men like me are so discreet in love,
  That you may trust their lasting secrecy.
  The care we take to guard our own good name
  May fully guarantee the one we love;
  So you may find, with hearts like ours sincere,
  Love without scandal, pleasure without fear.

  ELMIRE
  I've heard you through--your speech is clear, at least.
  But don't you fear that I may take a fancy
  To tell my husband of your gallant passion,
  And that a prompt report of this affair
  May somewhat change the friendship which he bears you?

  TARTUFFE
  I know that you're too good and generous,
  That you will pardon my temerity,
  Excuse, upon the score of human frailty,
  The violence of passion that offends you,
  And not forget, when you consult your mirror,
  That I'm not blind, and man is made of flesh.

  ELMIRE
  Some women might do otherwise, perhaps,
  But I am willing to employ discretion,
  And not repeat the matter to my husband;
  But in return, I'll ask one thing of you:
  That you urge forward, frankly and sincerely,
  The marriage of Valere to Mariane;
  That you give up the unjust influence
  By which you hope to win another's rights;
  And ...

 Cleante confronts Tartuffe and suggests that it is not the act of a religious man to cause such strife in a family and to allow a father to disinherit his son. Tartuffe argues that he would love to see Damis reinstated, but he is afraid that people would then interpret his act incorrectly. Cleante points out the warped reasoning in this argument and suggests that he leave vengeance to God. Tartuffe maintains that he has forgiven Damis but finds it wrong to live with someone who smears his name. He also explains that he despises wealth and the only reason he allows Orgon to transfer his property to him is so that it will not fall into wicked hands where it might be used for crime and sin. When Cleante begins to point out the fallacy in this argument, Tartuffe leaves abruptly, saying that he has to attend to certain pious offices. Elmire, Mariane, and Dorine arrive, asking Cleante to stay and help them convince Orgon of his errors. When Orgon arrives, he presents Mariane with the marriage contract. She pleads on her knees that he not force her to marry Tartuffe; she says she does not resent her father's love for Tartuffe and, if he wishes, Orgon can take all of her property and bestow it on Tartuffe, but she requests that she be left free to choose a husband for herself. Orgon argues that the more one loathes a man the more noble it will be to marry him because, by so doing, one will be able to mortify one's flesh and make it pure. Cleante starts to offer advice, but Orgon tells him that even though his advice is sound, he will not follow it. Elmire is astounded at Orgon's ability to be continually wrong. She wonders if he would believe his eyes and challenges him to become a part of a plot which would reveal Tartuffe's hypocrisy. Orgon has such faith in Tartuffe that he accepts the challenge. Elmire sends the others away and tells Orgon to hide under the table and to observe what is about to take place. She asks him to interrupt the interview between her and Tartuffe at any moment that he is convinced that Tartuffe is not the man he pretends to be.

