Tartuffe by Molière (most motivational books TXT) 📕
Description
The first three acts of Molière’s Tartuffe were first performed for Louis XIV in 1664, but the play was almost immediately suppressed—not because the King disliked it, but because the church resented the insinuation that the pious were frauds. After several different versions were written and performed privately, Tartuffe was eventually published in its final five-act form in 1669.
A comic tale of man taken in by a sanctimonious scoundrel, the characters of Tartuffe, Elmire, and Orgon are considered among some of the great classical theater roles. As the family strives to convince the patriarch that Tartuffe is a religious fraud, the play ultimately focuses on skewering not the hypocrite, but his victims, and the hypocrisy of fervent religious belief unchecked by facts or reason—a defense Molière himself used to overcome the church’s proscriptions. In the end, the play was so impactful that both French and English now use the word “Tartuffe” to refer to a religious hypocrite who feigns virtue.
In its original French, the play is written in twelve-syllable lines of rhyming couplets. Curtis Hidden Page’s translation invokes a popular compromise and renders it into the familiar blank verse without rhymed endings that was popularized by Shakespeare. The translation is considered a seminal by modern translators.
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- Author: Molière
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If you should wish … Orgon
No, never!
TartuffeVery well, then;
No more of that. But I shall rule my conduct
To fit the case. Honour is delicate,
And friendship binds me to forestall suspicion,
Prevent all scandal, and avoid your wife.
No, you shall haunt her, just to spite them all.
’Tis my delight to set them in a rage;
You shall be seen together at all hours
And what is more, the better to defy them,
I’ll have no other heir but you; and straightway
I’ll go and make a deed of gift to you,
Drawn in due form, of all my property.
A good true friend, my son-in-law to be,
Is more to me than son, and wife, and kindred.
You will accept my offer, will you not?
Heaven’s will be done in everything!
OrgonPoor man!
We’ll go make haste to draw the deed aright,
And then let envy burst itself with spite!
Yes, it’s become the talk of all the town,
And make a stir that’s scarcely to your credit;
And I have met you, sir, most opportunely,
To tell you in a word my frank opinion.
Not to sift out this scandal to the bottom,
Suppose the worst for us—suppose Damis
Acted the traitor, and accused you falsely;
Should not a Christian pardon this offence,
And stifle in his heart all wish for vengeance?
Should you permit that, for your petty quarrel,
A son be driven from his father’s house?
I tell you yet again, and tell you frankly,
Everyone, high or low, is scandalised;
If you’ll take my advice, you’ll make it up,
And not push matters to extremities.
Make sacrifice to God of your resentment;
Restore the son to favour with his father.
Alas! So far as I’m concerned, how gladly
Would I do so! I bear him no ill will;
I pardon all, lay nothing to his charge,
And wish with all my heart that I might serve him;
But Heaven’s interests cannot allow it;
If he returns, then I must leave the house.
After his conduct, quite unparalleled,
All intercourse between us would bring scandal;
God knows what everyone’s first thought would be!
They would attribute it to merest scheming
On my part—say that conscious of my guilt
I feigned a Christian love for my accuser,
But feared him in my heart, and hoped to win him
And underhandedly secure his silence.
You try to put us off with specious phrases;
But all your arguments are too farfetched.
Why take upon yourself the cause of Heaven?
Does Heaven need our help to punish sinners?
Leave to itself the care of its own vengeance,
And keep in mind the pardon it commands us;
Besides, think somewhat less of men’s opinions,
When you are following the will of Heaven.
Shall petty fear of what the world may think
Prevent the doing of a noble deed?
No!—let us always do as Heaven commands,
And not perplex our brains with further questions.
Already I have told you I forgive him;
And that is doing, sir, as Heaven commands.
But after this day’s scandal and affront
Heaven does not order me to live with him.
And does it order you to lend your ear
To what mere whim suggested to his father,
And to accept gift of his estates,
On which, in justice, you can make no claim?
No one who knows me, sir, can have the thought
That I am acting from a selfish motive.
The goods of this world have no charms for me;
I am not dazzled by their treacherous glamour;
And if I bring myself to take the gift
Which he insists on giving me, I do so,
To tell the truth, only because I fear
This whole estate may fall into bad hands,
And those to whom it comes may use it ill
And not employ it, as is my design,
For Heaven’s glory and my neighbours’ good.
Eh, sir, give up these conscientious scruples
That well may cause a rightful heir’s complaints.
Don’t take so much upon yourself, but let him
Possess what’s his, at his own risk and peril;
Consider, it were better he misused it,
Than you should be accused of robbing him.
I am astounded that unblushingly
You could allow such offers to be made!
Tell me—has true religion any maxim
That teaches us to rob the lawful heir?
If Heaven has made it quite impossible
Damis and you should live together here,
Were it not better you should quietly
And honourably withdraw, than let the son
Be driven out for your sake, dead against
All reason? ’Twould be giving, sir, believe me,
Such an example of your probity …
Sir, it is half-past three; certain devotions
Recall me to my closet; you’ll forgive me
For leaving you so soon.
Alone. Ah!
Scene II Elmire, Mariane, Cléante, Dorine. DorineTo Cléante. Sir, we beg you
To help us all you can in her behalf;
She’s suffering almost more than heart can bear;
This match her father means to make tonight
Drives her each moment to despair. He’s coming.
Let us unite our efforts now, we beg you,
And try by strength or skill to change his purpose.
So ho! I’m glad to find you all together.
To Mariane. Here is the contract that shall make you happy,
My dear. You know already what it means.
On her knees before Orgon.
Father, I beg you, in the name of Heaven
That knows my grief, and by whate’er can move you,
Relax a little your paternal rights,
And free my love from this obedience!
Oh, do not make me, by your harsh command,
Complain to Heaven you ever were my father;
Do not make wretched this poor life you gave me.
If, crossing that fond hope which I had formed,
You’ll not permit me to belong to one
Whom I have dared to love, at least, I beg you
Upon my knees, oh, save me from the torment
Of being possessed by one whom I abhor!
And do not drive me to some desperate act
By exercising all your rights upon me.
A little touched.
Come, come, my heart, be firm! no human weakness!
MarianeI am not jealous of your love for
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