________________________________________________
_ ACT V
SCENE I
Orgon, Cleante
Cleante.
Where are you rushing?
Orgon.
Who knows?
Cleante.
It might make sense
To begin by having a conference
About everything that has happened lately.
Orgon.
That box of papers troubles me greatly;
More than all the rest, it's cause for distress.
Cleante.
Why are those papers important to possess?
Orgon.
My unfortunate friend Argus, when he
Put them into my hands, swore me to secrecy.
He chose to rely on me as he fled,
And these papers, according to what he said,
Are crucial to both his life and his wealth.
Cleante.
Then why didn't you keep them to yourself?
Orgon.
It was a matter of conscience, you see,
So I consulted Tartuffe in secrecy,
And his arguments came to persuade me
That he should keep the box for security,
So I could deny having it on hand.
And thus I'd have a subterfuge on demand
With which my conscience might muddle through
In swearing to things that I knew weren't true.
Cleante.
You're in trouble, judging by appearances;
Both the deed of gift and these confidences
Are, to tell you my thoughts quite honestly,
Measures that you took very thoughtlessly.
They might put you in jail with such evidence,
And since that man has it, it makes no sense
To drive him away through your imprudence,
You need to regain his full confidence.
Orgon.
With what a fair appearance and touching zeal
He hides a wicked soul and a heart of steel!
And I, who received him begging and broke . . .
That's it, I renounce all such pious folk.
Henceforth, I will hold them as wholly evil
And do my best to send them to the devil.
Cleante.
It's just like you to get carried away!
You can never stick to the middle way.
To reason rightly is too much bother;
You always rush from one excess to another.
You can see your error and now you know
That by a false zeal you were brought low.
But to redeem yourself does logic demand
That you embrace an error that's even more grand?
And must you confuse the heart of a shill
With the hearts of all the men of good will?
Because a rascal had the luck or grace
To dupe you with his austere and shining face,
Must you believe everyone acts that way
And no true church-man can be found today?
Leave to libertines these foolish deductions.
Seek true virtue, not a false deconstruction.
Never rush into hasty admiration,
And strive instead for moderation.
If possible, don't admire false pretense,
But also don't give true zeal cause for offense,
And if you must fall to one extreme,
Err in being too free with your esteem.
SCENE II
Damis, Orgon, Cleante
Damis.
Father, is it true that this cad threatens you,
That he has forgotten the gifts that bound you two,
And that his shameful pride, maddeningly,
Has repaid your kindness with tyranny?
Orgon.
Yes, son; he's brought me to the verge of tears.
Damis.
Leave him to me. I'll cut off his ears.
You must not flinch before his insolence
For I'll soon restore your independence,
And, to end the matter, I'll slice him like toast.
Cleante.
That's exactly like a bratty boy's boast.
Please make your angry words more moderate.
We live during a time and in a state
Where violent acts are clearly unlawful.
SCENE III
Madame Pernelle, Mariane, Elmire, Dorine, Damis, Orgon, Cleante
Madame Pernelle.
What's happening? The tales I'm told are awful.
Orgon.
Novel things have been happening to me,
And for all my kindness, this is my fee.
I lift the man out of his misery;
Like a brother, I take him home with me;
Each day I treat him with greater largesse;
I give him my daughter and all I possess;
And at the same time the lying low-life
Looks for the best way to seduce my wife,
And, not fully content with what he's achieved,
He threatens me with the gifts he's received,
And he wishes to use, in ruining me,
Those profits he gained from my foolish bounty
To drive me from the home that I gave to him
And reduce me to the state that he was in.
Dorine.
Poor man!
Madame Pernelle.
Son, I don't believe he'd allow
Himself to take part in actions so foul.
Orgon.
How's that?
Madame Pernelle.
People always resent holy men.
Orgon.
Mother, what were you trying to say just then?
Madame Pernelle.
That in your home one sees the strangest things;
Among them is the hate that envy brings.
Orgon.
How is it hate when I've told you the truth?
Madame Pernelle.
I warned you often when you were a youth:
In this world virtue is oppressed forever;
The envious may die, but envy never.
Orgon.
But what does this have to do with today?
Madame Pernelle.
People are telling you lies and hearsay.
Orgon.
I've already said that I myself saw it.
Madame Pernelle.
The malice of gossips is infinite.
Orgon.
You'll make me damn myself, Mother. I tell you
I saw with my eyes just what he would do.
Madame Pernelle.
Some tongues always have some poison to spit,
And nothing on earth is safe against it.
Orgon.
I do not know what these words of yours mean.
I've seen it, I say, seen, with these eyes seen--
Do you know the word, seen? Must I shout it
In your ears a hundred times and still you doubt it?
Madame Pernelle.
Dear Lord! Appearances may be deceiving:
You shouldn't judge based on what you're perceiving.
Orgon.
I'll go mad!
Madame Pernelle.
People are prone to suspicion;
Misjudgment is part of the human condition.
Orgon.
So I must interpret charitably
His desire to cuckold me?
Madame Pernelle.
Don't you see
That to accuse a man you need just cause,
And until you're quite sure, you ought to pause.
Orgon.
To be more certain, what would you advise?
Should I have waited until before my eyes
He had . . . You'll make me say something quite lewd.
Madame Pernelle.
I'm sure that a holy zeal has imbued
His soul, and I can't begin to believe
That he would be willing to cheat or deceive.
Orgon.
Leave me . . . I'm now so angry that if you
Were not my mother, I'm not sure what I'd do.
Dorine
[to Orgon].
This is fair payment, sir, for what we received.
You wouldn't believe us; now you're not believed.
Cleante.
We are wasting time on foolish pleasures
That would be better spent in active measures.
We should not ignore this swindler's threats.
Damis.
What! Does his boldness have no boundaries yet?
Elmire.
For myself, I don't believe it's possible;
His ingratitude would be too visible.
Cleante
[to Orgon].
Don't put your faith in that. He will find ways
To gild with reason all the things he says;
And with less than this the people in power
Have forced their foes to cringe and cower.
I tell you again: well-armed as they are,
You should never have pushed him quite so far.
Orgon.
True, but what could I do? Facing that bastard,
I felt resentment that I never mastered.
Cleante.
I deeply desire to arrange between you
Some shadow of peace, however untrue.
Elmire.
If I had known that he possessed such arms,
I would never have set off these alarms,
And my . . .
Orgon
[to Dorine, seeing Monsieur Loyal enter].
What does this man want? Go and see.
I don't wish to have anyone meet with me!
SCENE IV
Monsieur Loyal, Madame Pernelle, Orgon, Damis, Mariane, Dorine, Elmire, Cleante
Monsieur Loyal
[to Dorine].
Hello, my dear sister. Could you please see
If your master is in?
Dorine.
He has company,
And I doubt he'll be able to see you now.
Monsieur Loyal.
I have not come here to cause a row.
I don't think that my presence will displease
Him; I come, in fact, to put him at ease.
Dorine. Your name?
Monsieur Loyal.
Tell him only that I've come here
For Monsieur Tartuffe, and to give him cheer.
Dorine [to Orgon].
It's a man who has come quite civilly,
On behalf of Monsieur Tartuffe, to see,
He says, to your pleasure.
Cleante
[to Orgon].
You'd best find out
Who he is and what he has come here about.
Orgon
[to Cleante].
Perhaps he has come here to reconcile us.
How should I act and what should we discuss?
Cleante.
Don't let any of your anger appear,
And if he speaks of a deal, make him be clear.
Monsieur Loyal
[to Orgon].
Greetings, sir. May God destroy all your foes
And favor you as much as I propose!
Orgon
[aside to Cleante].
This civil start meets my approbation
And foreshadows some accommodation.
Monsieur Loyal.
At one time I was your father's employee,
And this whole house is very dear to me.
Orgon.
I ask your pardon, sir, but to my shame
I'm totally ignorant of your name.
Monsieur Loyal.
My name is Loyal. I come from Normandy.
I'm the bailiff here, in spite of envy.
For the last forty years, thanks be to God,
I've done my duty and retained by job.
And I've come to you, with your permission,
To serve this notice of your eviction.
Orgon.
What! You're here . . .
Monsieur Loyal.
Let's have no irritation.
This is nothing more than notification,
An order to evict both you and yours,
Put your furniture out and lock the doors,
Without pardon or delay to fulfill . . .
Orgon.
Me! Leave this place?
Monsieur Loyal.
Yes, monsieur, if you will.
This house now belongs, I have ample proof,
To your very good friend, Monsieur Tartuffe.
He is master and lord of all your wealth
By virtue of a deed he showed me himself.
It is in due form and cannot be doubted.
Damis
[to Monsieur Loyal].
What impudence! I'm amazed about it.
Monsieur Loyal
[to Damis].
You and I, sir, have no business and you'd
Best leave things to this man
[pointing to Orgon],
who's civil and shrewd,
And knows too well the duties of my office
To wish to oppose himself to justice.
Orgon.
But . . .
Monsieur Loyal
[to Orgon].
I know that not even a million
Dollars would make you cause a rebellion,
And that you will be an honest citizen
And let me fulfill the orders I'm given.
Damis.
You may soon feel upon your black soutane,
Monsieur Bailiff, the heavy weight of this cane.
Monsieur Loyal
[to Orgon].
Command your son to be quiet or depart,
Monsieur; I would regret to have to report
All this and make these matters more official.
Damis [aside].
This Monsieur Loyal seems quite disloyal!
Monsieur Loyal.
For all worthy men there's a place in my heart,
And I would not have wished, sir, to take part
In this, except to lift some of your burden,
By preventing the chore from falling to one
Who might not share my opinion of you
And who wouldn't proceed as gently as I do.
Orgon.
And what could be worse than the evil crime
Of evicting me?
Monsieur Loyal.
I'm giving you time,
And until morning I'll hold in abeyance
The execution of this conveyance.
I shall only come here with ten of my boys
To spend the night, without scandal or noise.
For the sake of form please bring to me, before
You go up to bed, the keys to your door.
I'll take care not to disrupt your repose
And not to do anything you would oppose.
But tomorrow morning you must get set
To empty the house, down to the last brochette.
My boys will assist you. Each one's a strong lout
And will do all he can to help move you out.
I'm doing my best to use common sense,
And, since I'm treating you with such indulgence,
I beg you, sir, to act the same way to me.
Let no one bar me from doing my duty.
Orgon
[aside].
With a happy heart I would at once pay
The last hundred francs that are mine today
For the power and pleasure of hitting his snout
With one absolutely sensational clout.
Cleante
[quietly, to Orgon].
Go easy, don't make things worse.
Damis.
My hand itches
To get in a fight with these sons of bitches.
Dorine.
Monsieur Loyal, I think it might become you
To have your broad back beaten black and blue.
Monsieur Loyal.
These wicked words deserve condemnation,
And women, too, may earn incarceration.
Cleante
[to Monsieur Loyal]
Let's end it now; that's enough for today.
Hand over the paper, and be on your way.
Monsieur Loyal.
Until later, then. Heaven keep you in joy!
Orgon.
May it confound you, and your employer!
SCENE V
Orgon, Cleante, Mariane, Elmire, Madame Pernelle, Dorine, Damis
Orgon.
There! You now see, mother, that I was right,
And you can judge of the rest by this writ.
Do you admit at last that he can lie?
Madame Pernelle.
It's as if a bolt has struck from the sky.
Dorine
[to Orgon].
You're wrong to complain, and wrong to blame him.
These things show the grand plans of your seraphim.
His neighborly love finds consummation
In proving that wealth causes degradation,
And from pure charity he wants to remove
Every obstacle between you and God's love.
Orgon.
Shut up. . . . I'm always saying that to you.
Cleante
[to Orgon].
Let us consider what we ought to do.
Elmire.
We must expose this man's insolent acts.
His deeds invalidate all the contracts.
And his disloyalty will seem too plain
If he tries to use them for personal gain.
SCENE VI
Valere, Orgon, Cleante, Elmire, Mariane, Madame Pernelle, Damis, Dorine
Valere.
I'm sorry, sir, that I've come to distress you;
But certain dangers may soon oppress you.
A friend, whose love for me is deep and true
And who knows how much I care about you,
Has had enough courage to violate
The secrecy of affairs of state
And has just now sent me word that you might
Be well-advised to take sudden flight.
The villain who has been imposing on you
Has gone to the Prince to accuse you too,
And put into his hands, like a blade of hate,
The vital papers of a traitor of State,
Which he says that you've kept in secrecy
Despite the duties of aristocracy.
I don't know the details of the alleged crime,
But a warrant against you has been signed,
And he himself is assigned to assist
Those who will soon come to make the arrest.
Cleante.
Now his claims are well-armed; and the ingrate
Seeks to become master of your estate.
Orgon.
I swear, that man is a vile animal!
Valere.
The slightest trifling could well be fatal.
My coach is right here to take you away
With a thousand louis that I've pledged to pay.
Don't lose any time; the arrow has sped,
And this is one blow that ought to be fled.
I myself will guide you to a safe place
And will stay with you to be sure there's no chase.
Orgon.
I owe you much for your solicitude!
But there isn't time for my gratitude,
And I pray to God to grant what I need
So that one day I may repay this good deed.
Farewell. The rest of you take care . . .
Cleante.
Go on.
We'll look after everything when you're gone.
FINAL SCENE
Police Officer, Tartuffe, Valere, Orgon, Elmire, Mariane, Madame Pernelle, Cleante, Damis, Dorine
Tartuffe
[stopping Orgon].
Slowly, slowly, sir. You needn't run there.
You won't have to go far to hide in your lair.
In the Prince's name we will shackle you fast.
Orgon.
Traitor, you've kept this final shaft for last.
This is the blow with which you dispatch me,
And this is what crowns all your perfidy.
Tartuffe.
Your scorn causes me scant irritation;
I bear it as a holy obligation.
Cleante.
This is scant sign of your moderation.
Damis.
How impudently the wretch mocks veneration!
Tartuffe.
None of your outbursts mean a thing to me,
For I think of nothing but doing my duty.
Mariane.
Your pretense to honor is all a fake,
And this is just the right job for you to take.
Tartuffe.
The task can only shower me with grace
Since our Prince's command has sent me to this place.
Orgon.
But don't you recall how my charity
Raised you, you ingrate, from your misery?
Tartuffe.
Yes, I know that I once received assistance,
But my duty to the Prince demands this persistence:
'Tis a sacred duty of such fortitude
That it has suppressed all my gratitude,
And I would sacrifice to this powerful force
Friends, wife, parents, and myself, of course.
Elmire.
The hypocrite!
Dorine.
How well he can create
A treacherous cloak from all we venerate!
Cleante.
But if this zeal which drives you and with which
You plume yourself lifts you to a holy niche,
Why is it that it didn't come to life
Until after he caught you with his wife,
And why did you only denounce him today
After honor made him chase you away?
I don't claim that the gift of all his estates
Ought to distract you from duty's dictates,
But if you planned to reveal his treason here,
Why were you willing to take his wealth back there?
Tartuffe [to the Officer].
From all this noise, sir, please deliver me,
And be so kind as to enforce your decree.
Police Officer.
Yes, I've been rather slow to issue it.
Your own mouth aptly invites me to do it;
And so it will be done if you will come
Straight to the jail that will be your new home.
Tartuffe.
Who? Me, sir?
Police Officer.
Yes, you.
Tartuffe.
But why to prison?
Police Officer.
I need not explain to you my reason.
[To Orgon.]
Calm yourself, sir, after passions of such heat.
We're ruled by a Prince who's a foe to deceit,
A Prince whose eyes can read what the soul has writ,
And who can't be fooled by a hypocrite.
Blessed with a fine discernment, his great heart
Always sees the whole picture, not just each part.
Nothing can drive him to exaggeration;
His firm reason clings to moderation.
He confers on men of worth immortal glory;
But that zeal is not blind or peremptory,
And his love for what's true does not turn his eye
From the power of falseness to horrify.
This man here was unable to entrap him;
His defenses are sound when such snares enwrap him.
From the start, he pierced with his perceptive sight
Through the veils that hid this evil from light.
Tartuffe betrayed himself by accusing you,
And, in divine justice, revealed his true
Colors to the Prince as an infamous cad
Whose deeds under another name were so bad
That the record they made was wholly black
And Satan might use them as his almanac.
In short, this king was revolted to see
His ingratitude to you and disloyalty;
To his other crimes, he has joined this one
And has only allowed it so everyone
Could see his audacity's evil ends
And then see him required to make amends.
All your papers, which the wretch has pawed through,
Are here taken away and returned to you.
With his sovereign power he will abrogate
The contract by which you gave away your estate,
And finally he pardons that secret offense
Which you once committed through benevolence.
This is the reward for the courage you showed
In support of his rights in the late episode,
And to demonstrate that, when least expected,
One's past deeds may be recollected,
That he will never forget a good deed,
And that good outweighs evil in time of need.
Dorine.
Heaven be praised!
Madame Pernelle.
We're no longer distressed.
Elmire.
What a happy ending!
Mariane.
Who could have guessed?
Orgon
[to Tartuffe, who the Officer is leading away].
Good. There you go, traitor . . .
Cleante.
Ah! Brother, cease,
And don't degenerate to indignities.
Leave to himself this miserable clown,
And don't add to the remorse that weighs him down.
Hope instead that his heart may one day
Make a happy return to the virtuous way,
That he'll reform his life and lament his past,
And cause our great Prince to temper justice at last.
You should throw yourself on your knees in praise
Of the kindness and lenience shown these days.
Orgon.
Yes, that's well said. Let us kneel down with joy
And praise the kind deeds of his envoy.
Then, having acquitted part of our duty,
Let's turn to address the claims of beauty,
And by a fine wedding crown in Valere
A lover who's both generous and sincere.
[THE END]
[Moliere's Comedy Play: Tartuffe; or, The Hypocrite] _
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