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    Tartuffe; Or, The Hypocrite
    Tartuffe; Or, The Hypocrite
    Tartuffe; Or, The Hypocrite
    Ebook102 pages1 hour

    Tartuffe; Or, The Hypocrite

    By Jeffrey D. Hoeper and Molière

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    Read preview
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 25, 2013
    Tartuffe; Or, The Hypocrite

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      Book preview

      Tartuffe; Or, The Hypocrite - Jeffrey D. Hoeper

      The Project Gutenberg eBook, Tartuffe, by Jean-Baptiste Poquelin Moliere, Translated by Jeffrey D. Hoeper

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org

      ** This is a COPYRIGHTED Project Gutenberg eBook, Details Below **

      ** Please follow the copyright guidelines in this file. **

      Title: Tartuffe

      or The Hypocrite

      Author: Jean-Baptiste Poquelin Moliere

      Release Date: October 1, 2009 [eBook #28488]

      [This file last updated October 27, 2010]

      Language: English

      Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1

      ***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TARTUFFE***

      Copyright (C) 2009 by Jeffrey D. Hoeper

      Characters

      MADAME PERNELLE, Orgon's mother--(the mother-in-law)

      ORGON, Elmire's husband--(the dupe)

      ELMIRE, Orgon's wife

      DAMIS, Orgon's son, Elmire's stepson--(the hot-headed youth)

      MARIANE, Orgon's daughter, Elmire's stepdaughter, and Valere's lover--(the ingenue)

      CLEANTE, Orgon's brother-in-law--(the raisonneur)

      TARTUFFE, the hypocrite

      DORINE, Mariane's maid--(the impertinent maid)

      M. LOYAL, a bailiff

      POLICE OFFICER

      FLIPOTE, Madame Pernelle's servant

      LAURENT, Tartuffe's servant

      The Scene is at Paris

      ACT I

      SCENE I

      Madame Pernelle and her servant Flipote, Elmire, Mariane, Dorine, Damis, Cleante

      Mme. Pernelle.  Let's go, Flipote, let's go. I hate this place.

      Elmire.  I can't keep up, you rush at such a pace.

      Mme. Pernelle.  Peace, my dear, peace; come no farther.

      I don't wish to cause you any bother.

      Elmire.  What duty demands, I insist on giving.

      But, mother, what has caused your hasty leaving?

      Mme. Pernelle.  I just can't stand the way your household runs . . .

      And no one cares what I wish to have done.

      Oh, yes, I leave your household quite dissatisfied

      For all my wise advice has been defied . . .

      And nobody respects me, and everybody shouts,

      And truly this is a home for the king of louts!

      Dorine.  If . . .

      Mme. Pernelle.   You, my dearie, are a bold lassy,

      A little brazen and very sassy,

      You butt into everything to speak your mind.

      Damis.  But . . .

      Mme. Pernelle.    You, grandson, are a fool of the worst kind.

      It is I, your grandmother, that pronounce this edict

      And to my son, your father, I have oft predicted

      That you'll turn out to be a worthless wastrel,

      And give him in life a foretaste of Hell.

      Mariane.  I think . . .

      Mme. Pernelle.     My lord, his sister! You seem so discreet

      And so untainted, so very sweet,

      But the stillest waters are filled with scum,

      And your sly ways earn my revulsion.

      Elmire.  But . . .

      Mme. Pernelle.     Daughter, my views may make you mad,

      But your conduct in all things is all bad.

      In your family's eyes you should be an example-setter;

      In that respect their late mother did far better.

      You are extravagant, and it wounds me, I guess,

      To see you sashay about dressed like a princess.

      A woman who wishes only to please her mate,

      Dear daughter, need not primp and undulate.

      Cleante.  Madam, after all . . .

      Mme. Pernelle.             And her brother, as for you,

      I respect you, love you, and revere you, too,

      But finally, if I were my son, her spouse,

      I would at once beg you to leave this house.

      Without cease you teach your rules and mottos

      Which decent people should never follow.

      I now speak frankly, but it is my part;

      I never spare the words that stir my heart.

      Damis.  Your man Tartuffe is satisfied, no fear . . .

      Mme. Pernelle.  He is a holy man whom all should hear,

      And I cannot bear, without great rue,

      To hear him mocked by a fool like you.

      Damis.  What? Am I myself to bear a carping critic,

      A base usurper with a power tyrannic,

      Such that we can do nothing for diversion

      Without hearing about that creep's aversion?

      Dorine.  If we were to hear and obey his whims,

      We couldn't do anything without sins

      For he forbids all, this false Capuchin.

      Mme. Pernelle.  And everything he forbids is well forbidden.

      He strives to guide you on the road to heaven,

      And it's my son's duty to make you love him.

      Damis.  No, grandma, neither dad nor anyone else

      Can oblige me to wish for his good health.

      I'd be false to myself if I didn't say this:

      When I see him around, I begin to get pissed.

      I can smell the outcome, and soon this coot

      And I will find ourselves in a grand dispute.

      Dorine.  It's certainly a clear cause for remark

      When a nobody acts like a patriarch,

      A beggar who was barefoot when he came hence

      And whose whole wardrobe wasn't worth two cents!

      And he's gone so far as to forget his past for

      He opposes everything and plays the master.

      Mme. Pernelle.  Ah! mercy on me! Things would be better,

      If you'd only follow his holy orders.

      Dorine.  He passes for a saint in your fantasy,

      But, I swear, he acts with hypocrisy.

      Mme. Pernelle.  Watch your tongue!

      Dorine.                            Not to him nor his man Laurent

      Would I trust my honor without good warrant.

      Mme. Pernelle.  I don't know what his servant's like at heart,

      But for the man himself, I'll guarantee his part.

      You only treat him with hate and aversion

      Because he truly strives for your conversion.

      He hurls his heart up against each sin

      And the glory of God is all he hopes to win.

      Dorine.  Yes.  But why, especially during some

      Time past, must he ban all guests from our home?

      Can a courtesy call offend Heaven

      Enough to merit a huge commotion?

      Would you like it explained, just between us? [Gesturing toward Elmire.]

      Of Madam there, on my oath, he's jealous!

      Mme. Pernelle.  Be quiet, and think before you speak.

      Others, too, condemn the company you keep.

      All this bustle from the people who arrive,

      The carriages ceaselessly parking at curb-side,

      And the servants in a circle chattering,

      Makes noise that your neighbors find nerve-shattering.

      I'd like to think there's no harm meant,

      But when gossips talk, they're malevolent.

      Cleante.  How can you hope to stop people talking?

      It would truly be most irritating

      If, for the sake of idle, foolish chatter,

      We must renounce the friends that really matter.

      And even if we could resolve to

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