Tartuffe

to hurt you,
And I’d as soon⁠ ⁠…

He puts his hand on her knee.

Elmire

What’s your hand doing there?

Tartuffe

Feeling your gown; the stuff is very soft.

Elmire

Let be, I beg you; I am very ticklish.

She moves her chair away, and Tartuffe brings his nearer.

Tartuffe

Handling the lace yoke of Elmire’s dress.

Dear me how wonderful in workmanship
This lace is! They do marvels, nowadays;
Things of all kinds were never better made.

Elmire

Yes, very true. But let us come to business.
They say my husband means to break his word.
And marry Mariane to you. Is’t so?

Tartuffe

He did hint some such thing; but truly, madam,
That’s not the happiness I’m yearning after;
I see elsewhere the sweet compelling charms
Of such a joy as fills my every wish.

Elmire

You mean you cannot love terrestrial things.

Tartuffe

The heart within my bosom is not stone.

Elmire

I well believe your sighs all tend to Heaven,
And nothing here below can stay your thoughts.

Tartuffe

Love for the beauty of eternal things
Cannot destroy our love for earthly beauty;
Our mortal senses well may be entranced
By perfect works that Heaven has fashioned here.
Its charms reflected shine in such as you,
And in yourself, its rarest miracles;
It has displayed such marvels in your face,
That eyes are dazed, and hearts are rapt away;
I could not look on you, the perfect creature,
Without admiring Nature’s great Creator,
And feeling all my heart inflamed with love
For you, His fairest image of Himself.
At first I trembled lest this secret love
Might be the Evil Spirit’s artful snare;
I even schooled my heart to flee your beauty,
Thinking it was a bar to my salvation.
But soon, enlightened, O all lovely one,
I saw how this my passion may be blameless,
How I may make it fit with modesty,
And thus completely yield my heart to it.
’Tis I must own, a great presumption in me
To dare make you the offer of my heart;
My love hopes all things from your perfect goodness,
And nothing from my own poor weak endeavour.
You are my hope, my stay, my peace of heart;
On you depends my torment or my bliss;
And by your doom of judgment, I shall be
Blest, if you will; or damned, by your decree.

Elmire

Your declaration’s turned most gallantly;
But truly, it is just a bit surprising.
You should have better armed your heart, methinks,
And taken thought somewhat on such a matter.
A pious man like you, known everywhere⁠ ⁠…

Tartuffe

Though pious, I am nonetheless a man;
And when a man beholds your heavenly charms,
The heart surrenders, and can think no more.
I know such words seem strange, coming from me;
But, madam, I’m no angel, after all;
If you condemn my frankly made avowal
You only have your charming self to blame.
Soon as I saw your more than human beauty,
You were thenceforth the sovereign of my soul;
Sweetness ineffable was in your eyes,
That took by storm my still resisting heart,
And conquered everything, fasts, prayers, and tears,
And turned my worship wholly to yourself.
My looks, my sighs, have spoke a thousand times;
Now, to express it all, my voice must speak.
If but you will look down with gracious favour
Upon the sorrows of your worthless slave,
If in your goodness you will give me comfort
And condescend unto my nothingness,
I’ll ever pay you, O sweet miracle,
An unexampled worship and devotion.
Then too, with me your honour runs no risk;
With me you need not fear a public scandal.
These court gallants, that women are so fond of,
Are boastful of their acts, and vain in speech;
They always brag in public of their progress;
Soon as a favour’s granted, they’ll divulge it;
Their tattling tongues, if you but trust to them,
Will foul the altar where their hearts have worshipped.
But men like me are so discreet in love,
That you may trust their lasting secrecy.
The care we take to guard our own good name
May fully guarantee the one we love;
So you may find, with hearts like ours sincere,
Love without scandal, pleasure without fear.

Elmire

I’ve heard you through⁠—your speech is clear, at least.
But don’t you fear that I may take a fancy
To tell my husband of your gallant passion,
And that a prompt report of this affair
May somewhat change the friendship which he bears you?

Tartuffe

I know that you’re too good and generous,
That you will pardon my temerity,
Excuse, upon the score of human frailty,
The violence of passion that offends you,
And not forget, when you consult your mirror,
That I’m not blind, and man is made of flesh.

Elmire

Some women might do otherwise, perhaps,
But I am willing to employ discretion,
And not repeat the matter to my husband;
But in return, I’ll ask one thing of you:
That you urge forward, frankly and sincerely,
The marriage of Valère to Mariane;
That you give up the unjust influence
By which you hope to win another’s rights;
And⁠ ⁠…

Scene IV

	Elmire, Damis, Tartuffe.
Damis	Coming out of the closet-room where he had been hiding. No, I say! This thing must be made public. I was just there, and overheard it all; And Heaven’s goodness must have brought me there On purpose to confound this scoundrel’s pride And grant me means to take a signal vengeance On his hypocrisy and arrogance, And undeceive my father, showing up The rascal caught at making love to you.
Elmire	No, no; it is enough if he reforms, Endeavouring to deserve the favour shown him. And since I’ve promised, do not you belie me. ’Tis not my way to make a public scandal; An honest wife will scorn to heed such follies, And never fret her husband’s ears with them.
Damis	You’ve reasons of your own for acting thus; And I have mine for doing otherwise. To spare him now would be a mockery; His bigot’s pride has triumphed all too long Over my righteous anger, and has caused Far too much trouble in our family. The rascal all too long has ruled my father, And crossed my sister’s love, and mine as well. The traitor now must be unmasked before him: And Providence has given me means to do it. To Heaven I owe the opportunity, And if I did not use it now I have it, I should deserve to lose it once for all.
Elmire	Damis⁠ ⁠…
Damis	No, by your leave; I’ll not