Act V
Scene I
Orgon, Cléante. | |
Cléante |
Whither away so fast? |
Orgon |
How should I know? |
Cléante |
Methinks we should begin by taking counsel
|
Orgon |
I’m all worked up about that wretched box.
|
Cléante |
That box must hide some mighty mystery? |
Orgon |
Argas, my friend who is in trouble, brought it
|
Cléante |
How could you trust them to another’s hands? |
Orgon |
By reason of a conscientious scruple.
|
Cléante |
Your case is bad, so far as I can see;
|
Orgon |
What! Can a soul so base, a heart so false,
|
Cléante |
So! There you go again, quite off the handle!
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Scene II
Damis, Orgon, Cléante. | |
Damis |
What! father, can the scoundrel threaten you,
|
Orgon |
Too true, my son. It tortures me to think on’t. |
Damis |
Let me alone, I’ll chop his ears off for him.
|
Cléante |
Spoke like a true young man. Now just calm down,
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Scene III
Madame Pernelle, Orgon, Elmire, Cléante, Mariane, Damis, Dorine. | |
Madame Pernelle |
What’s this? I hear of fearful mysteries! |
Orgon |
Strange things indeed, for my own eyes to witness;
|
Dorine |
Poor man! |
Madame Pernelle |
My son, I cannot possibly
|
Orgon |
What? |
Madame Pernelle |
Worthy men are still the sport of envy. |
Orgon |
Mother, what do you mean by such a speech? |
Madame Pernelle |
There are strange goings-on about your house,
|
Orgon |
What’s that to do with what I tell you now? |
Madame Pernelle |
I always said, my son, when you were little:
|
Orgon |
What’s that fine speech to do with present facts? |
Madame Pernelle |
Be sure, they’ve forged a hundred silly lies … |
Orgon |
I’ve told you once, I saw it all myself. |
Madame Pernelle |
For slanderers abound in calumnies … |
Orgon |
Mother, you’d make me damn my soul. I tell you
|
Madame Pernelle |
Their tongues for spitting venom never lack,
|
Orgon |
Your speech has not a single grain of sense.
|
Madame Pernelle |
My dear, appearances are oft deceiving,
|
Orgon |
I’ll go mad. |
Madame Pernelle |
False suspicions may delude,
|
Orgon |
Must I construe as Christian charity
|
Madame Pernelle |
You must, at least,
|
Orgon |
The devil! How could I see any surer?
|
Madame Pernelle |
In short, ’tis known too pure a zeal inflames him;
|
Orgon |
If you were not my mother, I should say
|
Dorine |
To Orgon. Fortune has paid you fair, to be so doubted;
|
Cléante |
We’re wasting time here in the merest trifling,
|
Damis |
You think his impudence could go far? |
Elmire |
For one, I can’t believe it possible;
|
Cléante |
Don’t trust to that; he’ll find abundant warrant
|
Orgon |
True; yet what could I do? The rascal’s pride
|
Cléante |
I wish with all my heart that some pretence
|
Elmire |
If I had known what weapons he was armed with,
|
Orgon |
To Dorine, seeing Mr. Loyal come in.
Who’s coming now? Go quick, find out.
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Scene IV
Orgon, Madame Pernelle, Elmire, Mariane, Cléante, Damis, Dorine, Mr. Loyal. | |
Mr. Loyal |
To Dorine, at the back of the stage.
Good day, good sister. Pray you, let me see
|
Dorine |
He’s occupied;
|
Mr. Loyal |
I’m not by way of being unwelcome here.
|
Dorine |
Your name, then? |
Mr. Loyal |
Tell him simply that his friend
|
Dorine |
To Orgon. It is a man who comes, with civil manners,
|
Cléante |
To Orgon. Surely you must see him,
|
Orgon |
To Cléante. Perhaps he’s come to make it up between us:
|
Cléante |
You must not get angry;
|
Mr. Loyal |
To Orgon. Sir, good day. And Heaven send
|
Orgon |
Aside to Cléante. This mild beginning suits with my conjectures
|
Mr. Loyal |
All of your house has long been dear to me;
|
Orgon |
Sir, I am much ashamed, and ask your pardon
|
Mr. Loyal |
My name is Loyal. I’m from Normandy.
|
Orgon |
What, you are here to … |
Mr. Loyal |
Pray, sir, don’t be angry.
|
Orgon |
I? Leave this house? |
Mr. Loyal |
Yes, please, sir
|
Damis |
To Mr. Loyal. Your insolence is monstrous, and astounding! |
Mr. Loyal |
To Damis. I have no business, sir, that touches you; |
Pointing to Orgon.
This is the gentleman. He’s fair and courteous,
|
|
Orgon |
But … |
Mr. Loyal |
Sir, I know you would not for a million
|
Damis |
Your long black gown may well, before you know it,
|
Mr. Loyal |
To Orgon. Sir, make your son be silent or withdraw.
|
Dorine |
Aside. This Mr. Loyal’s looks are most disloyal. |
Mr. Loyal |
I have much feeling for respectable
|
Orgon |
And how could one do worse than order people
|
Mr. Loyal |
Why, we allow you time;
|
Orgon |
I’d give this very minute, and not grudge it,
|
Cléante |
Aside to Orgon. Careful!—don’t make things worse. |
Damis |
Such insolence!
|
Dorine |
By my faith,
|
Mr. Loyal |
My girl, such infamous words are actionable.
|
Cléante |
To Mr. Loyal. Enough of this discussion, sir; have done.
|
Mr. Loyal |
Then au revoir. Heaven keep you from disaster! |
Orgon |
May Heaven confound you both, you and your master! |
Scene V
Orgon, Madame Pernelle, Elmire, Cléante, Mariane, Damis, Dorine. | |
Orgon |
Well, mother, am I right or am I not?
|
Madame Pernelle |
I’m all amazed, befuddled, and beflustered! |
Dorine |
To Orgon. You are quite wrong, you have no right to blame him;
|
Orgon |
Be still. You always need to have that told you. |
Cléante |
To Orgon. Come, let us see what course you are to follow. |
Elmire |
Go and expose his bold ingratitude.
|
Scene VI
Valère, Orgon, Madame Pernelle, Elmire, Cléante, Mariane, Damis, Dorine. | |
Valère |
’Tis with regret, sir, that I bring bad news;
|
Cléante |
His rights are armed; and this is how the scoundrel
|
Orgon |
Man is a wicked animal, I’ll own it! |
Valère |
The least delay may still be fatal, sir.
|
Orgon |
How much I owe to your obliging care!
|
Cléante |
Come hurry;
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Scene VII
Tartuffe, an Officer, Madame Pernelle, Orgon, Elmire, Cléante, Mariane, Valère, Damis, Dorine. | |
Tartuffe |
Stopping Orgon.
Softly, sir, softly; do not run so fast;
|
Orgon |
Traitor! You saved this worst stroke for the last;
|
Tartuffe |
I shall not be embittered by your insults,
|
Cléante |
Your moderation, I must own, is great. |
Damis |
How shamelessly the wretch makes bold with Heaven! |
Tartuffe |
Your ravings cannot move me; all my thought
|
Mariane |
You must claim
|
Tartuffe |
The act cannot be aught but honourable,
|
Orgon |
Ungrateful wretch, do you forget ’twas I
|
Tartuffe |
I’ve not forgot some help you may have given;
|
Elmire |
The hypocrite! |
Dorine |
How well he knows the trick
|
Cléante |
But if the motive that you make parade of
|
Tartuffe |
To The Officer. Pray, sir, deliver me from all this clamour;
|
The Officer |
Yes, I’ve too long delayed its execution;
|
Tartuffe |
Who? I, sir? |
The Officer |
You. |
Tartuffe |
By why to prison? |
The Officer |
You
|
Dorine |
Now Heaven be praised! |
Madame Pernelle |
At last I breathe again. |
Elmire |
A happy outcome! |
Mariane |
Who’d have dared to hope it? |
Orgon |
To Tartuffe, who is being led by The Officer. There traitor! Now you’re … |
Scene VIII
Madame Pernelle, Orgon, Elmire, Mariane, Cléante, Valère, Damis, Dorine. | |
Cléante |
Brother, hold!—and don’t
|
Orgon |
Well said! We’ll go, and at his feet kneel down,
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