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.]

 Orgon finds his daughter alone and asks her if she will obey him in all things. Being a dutiful daughter, she tells him it is her pleasure always to please her father. Therefore, Orgon instructs her to say that she finds Tartuffe to be a very worthy man and that she would be delighted to be his wife. Mariane then points out that if she said such a thing, she would be lying. Orgon, however, announces that he is determined to have Tartuffe allied to the family by marrying Mariane. Dorine, the maid, interrupts the conversation by arriving unexpectedly. She is laughing about a joke she has heard -- a joke concerning Orgon's plan to allow Tartuffe to marry Mariane. When Orgon tells her that it is no joke, that it is the truth, Dorine laughs harder, thinking that it is still a joke; she refuses to believe her master. When Orgon refuses to retract, Dorine points out that Tartuffe has no property and no social alliances; such a man should be content to devote his time to his prayers. She also points out that Tartuffe, who theoretically brags about his poverty, also brags about his lands and birth -- a matter which seems, for Dorine, a contradiction. Failing to convince Orgon, she then suggests that if a girl is forced to marry a man whom she dislikes, she is sure to be unfaithful. Orgon tries his best to ignore her, but finally orders her to be quiet, and Dorine goes to the side as Orgon continues to try and influence his daughter. Then Dorine comments to herself about the absurdity of the situation until Orgon is so infuriated that he has to go out for a walk to calm himself.

