Tartuffe (1 of 25)

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TARTUFFE OR THE HYPOCRITE

by JEAN BAPTISTE POQUELIN MOLIERE


Translated By
Curtis Hidden Page


CHARACTERS

MADAME PERNELLE, mother of Orgon

ORGON, husband of Elmire

ELMIRE, wife of Orgon

DAMIS, son of Orgon

MARIANE, daughter of Orgon, in love with Valere

CLEANTE, brother-in-law of Orgon

TARTUFFE, a hypocrite

DORINE, Mariane's maid

M. LOYAL, a bailiff

A Police Officer

FLIPOTTE, Madame Pernelle's servant



The Scene is at Paris




ACT I



SCENE I

MADAME PERNELLE and FLIPOTTE, her servant; ELMIRE, MARIANE, CLEANTE,
DAMIS, DORINE


MADAME PERNELLE
Come, come, Flipotte, and let me get away.

ELMIRE
You hurry so, I hardly can attend you.

MADAME PERNELLE
Then don't, my daughter-in law. Stay where you are.
I can dispense with your polite attentions.

ELMIRE
We're only paying what is due you, mother.
Why must you go away in such a hurry?

MADAME PERNELLE
Because I can't endure your carryings-on,
And no one takes the slightest pains to please me.
I leave your house, I tell you, quite disgusted;
You do the opposite of my instructions;
You've no respect for anything; each one
Must have his say; it's perfect pandemonium.

DORINE
If . . .

MADAME PERNELLE
You're a servant wench, my girl, and much
Too full of gab, and too impertinent
And free with your advice on all occasions.

DAMIS
But . . .

MADAME PERNELLE
You're a fool, my boy--f, o, o, l
Just spells your name. Let grandma tell you that
I've said a hundred times to my poor son,
Your father, that you'd never come to good
Or give him anything but plague and torment.

MARIANE
I think . . .

MADAME PERNELLE
O dearie me, his little sister!
You're all demureness, butter wouldn't melt
In your mouth, one would think to look at you.
Still waters, though, they say . . . you know the proverb;
And I don't like your doings on the sly.

ELMIRE
But, mother . . .

MADAME PERNELLE
Daughter, by your leave, your conduct
In everything is altogether wrong;
You ought to set a good example for 'em;
Their dear departed mother did much better.
You are extravagant; and it offends me,
To see you always decked out like a princess.
A woman who would please her husband's eyes
Alone, wants no such wealth of fineries.

CLEANTE
But, madam, after all . . .

MADAME PERNELLE
Sir, as for you,
The lady's brother, I esteem you highly,
Love and respect you. But, sir, all the same,
If I were in my son's, her husband's, place,
I'd urgently entreat you not to come
Within our doors. You preach a way of living
That decent people cannot tolerate.
I'm rather frank with you; but that's my way--
I don't mince matters, when I mean a thing.

DAMIS
Mr. Tartuffe, your friend, is mighty lucky . . .

MADAME PERNELLE
He is a holy man, and must be heeded;
I can't endure, with any show of patience,
To hear a scatterbrains like you attack him.

DAMIS
What! Shall I let a bigot criticaster
Come and usurp a tyrant's power here?
And shall we never dare amuse ourselves
Till this fine gentleman deigns to consent?

DORINE
If we must hark to him, and heed his maxims,
There's not a thing we do but what's a crime;
He censures everything, this zealous carper.

MADAME PERNELLE
And all he censures is well censured, too.
He wants to guide you on the way to heaven;
My son should train you all to love him well.

DAMIS
No, madam, look you, nothing--not my father
Nor anything--can make me tolerate him.
I should belie my feelings not to say so.
His actions rouse my wrath at every turn;
And I foresee that there must come of it
An open rupture with this sneaking scoundrel.

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