Act II
Scene I
Orgon, Mariane. | |
Orgon |
Now, Mariane. |
Mariane |
Yes, father? |
Orgon |
Come; I’ll tell you
|
Mariane |
Yes … What are you looking for? |
Orgon |
Looking into a small closet-room.
To see there’s no one there to spy upon us;
|
Mariane |
I’m grateful for your fatherly affection. |
Orgon |
Well spoken, daughter. Now, prove you deserve it
|
Mariane |
To do so is the height of my ambition. |
Orgon |
Excellent well. What say you of—Tartuffe? |
Mariane |
Who? I? |
Orgon |
Yes, you. Look to it how you answer. |
Mariane |
Why! I’ll say of him—anything you please. |
Scene II
Orgon, Mariane; Dorine coming in quietly and standing behind Orgon, so that he does not see her. | |
Orgon |
Well spoken. A good girl. Say then, my daughter,
|
Mariane |
Eh? |
Orgon |
What say you? |
Mariane |
Please, what did you say? |
Orgon |
What? |
Mariane |
Surely I mistook you, sir? |
Orgon |
How now? |
Mariane |
Who is it, father, you would have me say
|
Orgon |
Tartuffe. |
Mariane |
But, father, I protest it isn’t true!
|
Orgon |
Because I mean to have it be the truth.
|
Mariane |
What, father, you would … ? |
Orgon |
Yes, child, I’m resolved
|
Seeing Dorine. |
|
What are you doing there?
|
|
Dorine |
Upon my word, I don’t know how the rumour
|
Orgon |
What! Is the thing incredible? |
Dorine |
So much so
|
Orgon |
I know a way to make you credit it. |
Dorine |
No, no, you’re telling us a fairly tale! |
Orgon |
I’m telling you just what will happen shortly. |
Dorine |
Stuff! |
Orgon |
Daughter, what I say is in good earnest. |
Dorine |
There, there, don’t take your father seriously;
|
Orgon |
But I tell you … |
Dorine |
No. No use.
|
Orgon |
If I let my anger … |
Dorine |
Well, then, we do believe you; and the worse
|
Orgon |
You hark me:
|
Dorine |
There, there, let’s not get angry, sir, I beg you.
|
Orgon |
You hold your tongue. And know, the less he has,
|
Dorine |
Yes, so he says himself. Such vanity
|
Orgon |
To Mariane. So! I must learn what’s what from her, you see! |
Dorine |
You might do worse than follow my advice. |
Orgon |
Daughter, we can’t waste time upon this nonsense;
|
Dorine |
You’d have him run there just when you do.
|
Orgon |
I don’t ask your opinion on the matter.
|
Dorine |
With him? Do naught but give him horns, I’ll warrant. |
Orgon |
Out on thee, wench! |
Dorine |
I tell you he’s cut out for’t;
|
Orgon |
Have done with interrupting. Hold your tongue.
|
Dorine |
She keeps interrupting him, just as he turns and starts to speak to his daughter. If I make bold, sir, ’tis for your own good. |
Orgon |
You’re too officious; pray you, hold your tongue. |
Dorine |
’Tis love of you … |
Orgon |
I want none of your love. |
Dorine |
Then I will love you in your own despite. |
Orgon |
You will, eh? |
Dorine |
Yes, your honour’s dear to me;
|
Orgon |
Won’t you be still? |
Dorine |
’Twould be a sin to let you make this match. |
Orgon |
Won’t you be still, I say, you impudent viper! |
Dorine |
What! you are pious, and you lose your temper? |
Orgon |
I’m all wrought up, with your confounded nonsense;
|
Dorine |
Then mum’s the word; I’ll take it out in thinking. |
Orgon |
Think all you please; but not a syllable
|
Turning to his daughter. | |
As a wise father, I’ve considered all
|
|
Dorine |
I’ll go mad
|
She stops the instant he turns his head. | |
Orgon |
Though he’s no lady’s man,
|
Dorine |
A pretty phiz! |
Orgon |
So that, although you may not care at all
|
Dorine |
A handsome dowry! |
Orgon turns and stands in front of her, with arms folded, eyeing her. | |
Were I in her place, any man should rue it
|
|
Orgon |
To Dorine. So—nothing that I say has any weight? |
Dorine |
Eh? What’s wrong now? I didn’t speak to you. |
Orgon |
What were you doing? |
Dorine |
Talking to myself. |
Orgon |
Oh! Very well. Aside. Her monstrous impudence
|
He stands ready to strike her, and, each time he speaks to his daughter, he glances toward her; but she stands still and says not a word.3 | |
Daughter, you must approve of my design. …
|
|
To Dorine. Why don’t you talk to yourself? |
|
Dorine |
Nothing to say. |
Orgon |
One little word more. |
Dorine |
Oh, no, thanks. Not now. |
Orgon |
Sure, I’d have caught you. |
Dorine |
Faith, I’m no such fool. |
Orgon |
So, daughter, now obedience is the word;
|
Dorine |
Running away. You’d never catch me marrying such a creature. |
Orgon |
Swinging his hand at her and missing her.
Daughter, you’ve such a pestilent hussy there
|
Scene III
Mariane, Dorine. | |
Dorine |
Say, have you lost the tongue from out your head?
|
Mariane |
What can I do? My father is the master. |
Dorine |
Do? Everything, to ward off such disaster. |
Mariane |
But what? |
Dorine |
Tell him one doesn’t love by proxy;
|
Mariane |
A father’s rights are such, it seems to me,
|
Dorine |
Came, talk it out. Valère has asked your hand:
|
Mariane |
Dorine! How can you wrong my love so much,
|
Dorine |
How do I know if heart and words agree,
|
Mariane |
Dorine, you wrong me greatly if you doubt it;
|
Dorine |
So then, you love him? |
Mariane |
Yes, devotedly. |
Dorine |
And he returns your love, apparently? |
Mariane |
I think so. |
Dorine |
And you both alike are eager
|
Mariane |
Surely. |
Dorine |
Then what’s your plan about this other match? |
Mariane |
To kill myself, if it is forced upon me. |
Dorine |
Good! That’s a remedy I hadn’t thought of.
|
Mariane |
Oh dear, Dorine you get in such a temper!
|
Dorine |
I have no sympathy when folk talk nonsense,
|
Mariane |
But what can you expect?—if one is timid?— |
Dorine |
But what is love worth, if it has no courage? |
Mariane |
Am I not constant in my love for him?
|
Dorine |
But if your father is a crazy fool,
|
Mariane |
But shall I publicly refuse and scorn
|
Dorine |
No, no, I ask you nothing. You shall be
|
Mariane |
Oh dear! … |
Dorine |
What joy and pride will fill your heart
|
Mariane |
Oh, stop, I beg you; try to find some way
|
Dorine |
No, no, a daughter must obey her father,
|
Mariane |
Oh, you’ll kill me. Please
|
Dorine |
I thank you kindly. |
Mariane |
Oh! Dorine, I beg you … |
Dorine |
To serve you right, this marriage must go through. |
Mariane |
Dear girl! |
Dorine |
No. |
Mariane |
If I say I love Valère … |
Dorine |
No, no. Tartuffe’s your man, and you shall taste him. |
Mariane |
You know I’ve always trusted you; now help me … |
Dorine |
No, you shall be, my faith! Tartuffified. |
Mariane |
Well, then, since you’ve no pity for my fate
|
She starts to go. |
|
Dorine |
There, there! Come back. I can’t be angry long.
|
Mariane |
Oh, don’t you see, Dorine, if I must bear
|
Dorine |
Now don’t you fret. We’ll surely find some way.
|
Scene IV
Valère, Mariane, Dorine. | |
Valère |
Madam, a piece of news—quite new to me—
|
Mariane |
What piece of news? |
Valère |
Your marriage with Tartuffe. |
Mariane |
’Tis true my father has this plan in mind. |
Valère |
Your father, madam … |
Mariane |
Yes, he’s changed his plans,
|
Valère |
What!
|
Mariane |
Yes, he was serious,
|
Valère |
And what’s your resolution in the matter,
|
Mariane |
I don’t know. |
Valère |
That’s a pretty answer.
|
Mariane |
No. |
Valère |
No? |
Mariane |
What do you advise? |
Valère |
I? My advice is, marry him, by all means. |
Mariane |
That’s your advice? |
Valère |
Yes. |
Mariane |
Do you mean it? |
Valère |
Surely.
|
Mariane |
Oh, very well, sir! I shall take your counsel. |
Valère |
You’ll find no trouble taking it, I warrant. |
Mariane |
No more than you did giving it, be sure. |
Valère |
I gave it, truly, to oblige you, madam. |
Mariane |
And I shall take it to oblige you, sir. |
Dorine |
Withdrawing to the back of the stage. Let’s see what this affair will come to. |
Valère |
So,
|
Mariane |
I beg you, say no more of that.
|
Valère |
Don’t shield yourself with talk of my advice.
|
Mariane |
Exactly so. |
Valère |
Of course it is; your heart
|
Mariane |
Alas!
|
Valère |
Yes, yes,
|
Mariane |
No doubt of it; the love your high deserts
|
Valère |
Good Lord, have done with my deserts!
|
Mariane |
The loss is not so great; you’ll easily
|
Valère |
I’ll try my best, that you may well believe.
|
Mariane |
In faith, a high and noble sentiment. |
Valère |
Yes; and it’s one that all men must approve.
|
Mariane |
Oh, no, indeed! For my part, I could wish
|
Valère |
What! You wish it? |
Mariane |
Yes. |
Valère |
This is insult heaped on injury;
|
He takes a step or two as if to go away. |
|
Mariane |
Oh, very well then. |
Valère |
Turning back.
But remember this.
|
Mariane |
Of course. |
Valère |
Turning back again.
And in the plan that I have formed
|
Mariane |
Yes. |
Valère |
At the door. Enough; you shall be punctually obeyed. |
Mariane |
So much the better. |
Valère |
Coming back again. This is once for all. |
Mariane |
So be it, then. |
Valère |
He goes toward the door, but just as he reaches it, turns around. Eh? |
Mariane |
What? |
Valère |
You didn’t call me? |
Mariane |
I? You are dreaming. |
Valère |
Very well, I’m gone. Madam, farewell. |
He walks slowly away. |
|
Mariane |
Farewell, sir. |
Dorine |
I must say
|
She goes and seizes him by the arm, to stop him. He makes a great show of resistance. |
|
Valère |
What do you want, Dorine? |
Dorine |
Come here. |
Valère |
No, no, I’m quite beside myself.
|
Dorine |
Stop! |
Valère |
No. You see, I’m fixed, resolved, determined. |
Dorine |
So! |
Mariane |
Aside. Since my presence pains him, makes him go,
|
Dorine |
Leaving Valère, and running after Mariane. Now t’other! Where are you going? |
Mariane |
Let me be. |
Dorine. |
Come back. |
Mariane |
No, no, it isn’t any use. |
Valère |
Aside. ’Tis clear the sight of me is torture to her;
|
Dorine |
Leaving Mariane and running after Valère.
Same thing again! Deuce take you both, I say.
|
She pulls first one, then the other, toward the middle of the stage. |
|
Valère |
To Dorine. What’s your idea? |
Mariane |
To Dorine. What can you mean to do? |
Dorine |
Set you to rights, and pull you out o’ the scrape. |
To Valère. Are you quite mad, to quarrel with her now? |
|
Valère |
Didn’t you hear the things she said to me? |
Dorine |
To Mariane. Are you quite mad, to get in such a passion? |
Mariane |
Didn’t you see the way he treated me? |
Dorine |
Fools, both of you. |
To Valère. She thinks of nothing else
|
|
To Mariane. And he loves none but you, and longs for nothing
|
|
Mariane |
To Valère. Why did you give me such advice then, pray? |
Valère |
To Mariane. Why ask for my advice on such a matter? |
Dorine |
You both are daft, I tell you. Here, your hands. |
To Valère. Come, yours. |
|
Valère |
Giving Dorine his hand. What for? |
Dorine |
To Mariane. Now, yours. |
Mariane |
Giving Dorine her hand. But what’s the use? |
Dorine |
Oh, quick now, come along. There, both of you—
|
Valère and Mariane hold each other’s hands some time without looking at each other. |
|
Valère |
At last turning toward Mariane.
Come, don’t be so ungracious now about it;
|
Mariane looks sideways toward Valère, with just a bit of a smile. |
|
Dorine |
My faith and troth, what fools these lovers be! |
Valère |
To Mariane. But come now, have I not a just complaint?
|
Mariane |
And are you not yourself the most ungrateful … ? |
Dorine |
Leave this discussion till another time;
|
Mariane |
Then tell us how to go about it. |
Dorine |
Well,
|
To Mariane. Your father’s daft; |
|
To Valère. This plan is nonsense. |
|
To Mariane. You had better humour
|
|
To Valère. You, go at once and set your friends at work
|
|
Valère |
To Mariane. Whatever efforts we may make,
|
Mariane |
To Valère. I cannot answer for my father’s whims;
|
Valère |
You thrill me through with joy! Whatever comes … |
Dorine |
Oho! These lovers! Never done with prattling!
|
Valère |
Starting to go, and coming back again. One last word … |
Dorine |
What a gabble and pother!
|
She pushes them off, by the shoulders, in opposite directions. |