Chapter: SCENE II

  CLEANTE, DORINE


  CLEANTE
  I won't escort her down,
  For fear she might fall foul of me again;
  The good old lady ...

  DORINE
  Bless us! What a pity
  She shouldn't hear the way you speak of her!
  She'd surely tell you you're too "good" by half,
  And that she's not so "old" as all that, neither!

  CLEANTE
  How she got angry with us all for nothing!
  And how she seems possessed with her Tartuffe!

  DORINE
  Her case is nothing, though, beside her son's!
  To see him, you would say he's ten times worse!
  His conduct in our late unpleasantness [1]
  Had won him much esteem, and proved his courage
  In service of his king; but now he's like
  A man besotted, since he's been so taken
  With this Tartuffe. He calls him brother, loves him
  A hundred times as much as mother, son,
  Daughter, and wife. He tells him all his secrets
  And lets him guide his acts, and rule his conscience.
  He fondles and embraces him; a sweetheart
  Could not, I think, be loved more tenderly;
  At table he must have the seat of honour,
  While with delight our master sees him eat
  As much as six men could; we must give up
  The choicest tidbits to him; if he belches,
  ('tis a servant speaking) [2]
  Master exclaims: "God bless you!"--Oh, he dotes
  Upon him! he's his universe, his hero;
  He's lost in constant admiration, quotes him
  On all occasions, takes his trifling acts
  For wonders, and his words for oracles.
  The fellow knows his dupe, and makes the most on't,
  He fools him with a hundred masks of virtue,
  Gets money from him all the time by canting,
  And takes upon himself to carp at us.
  Even his silly coxcomb of a lackey
  Makes it his business to instruct us too;
  He comes with rolling eyes to preach at us,
  And throws away our ribbons, rouge, and patches.
  The wretch, the other day, tore up a kerchief
  That he had found, pressed in the _Golden Legend_,
  Calling it a horrid crime for us to mingle
  The devil's finery with holy things.

  [Footnote 1: Referring to the rebellion called La Fronde, during the
  minority of Louis XIV.]

  [Footnote 2: Moliere's note, inserted in the text of all the old
  editions. It is a curious illustration of the desire for uniformity
  and dignity of style in dramatic verse of the seventeenth century,
  that Moliere feels called on to apologize for a touch of realism like
  this. Indeed, these lines were even omitted when the play was given.]

 Cleante and Dorine stay behind and discuss the situation. Cleante is amazed at how quickly Tartuffe has bamboozled Madame Pernelle. Dorine agrees, but she's even more afraid of the way he's tricking Orgon. Though he was once a wise and prudent advisor to the king, he seems to have gone a bit soft in the noggin. Now, she says, he's obsessed with Tartuffe and ignores everyone else. Dorine points out that Tartuffe has been growing rich and fat thanks to his ignorance - this is what we literary types call exposition.

