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lipped。
ORGON Poor man！
DORINE At evening she had nausea And could't touch a single thing
for supper； Her headache still was so severe。
ORGON And how About Tartuffe？
DORINE He supped alone； before her； And unctuously ate up two
partridges； As well as half a leg o' mutton； deviled。
ORGON Poor man！
DORINE All night she couldn't get a wink Of sleep； the fever racked
her so； and we Had to sit up with her till daylight。
ORGON How About Tartuffe？
DORINE Gently inclined to slumber； He left the table； went into his
room； Got himself straight into a good warm bed； And slept quite
undisturbed until next morning。
ORGON Poor man！
DORINE At last she let us all persuade her； And got up courage to be
bled； and then She was relieved at once。
ORGON And how about Tartuffe？
DORINE He plucked up courage properly； Bravely entrenched his
soul against all evils； And to replace the blood that she had lost； He drank
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at breakfast four huge draughts of wine。
ORGON Poor man！
DORINE So now they both are doing well； And I'll go straightway and
inform my mistress How pleased you are at her recovery。
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TARTUFFE OR THE HYPOCRITE
SCENE VI ORGON； CLEANTE
CLEANTE Brother； she ridicules you to your face； And I； though I
don't want to make you angry； Must tell you candidly that she's quite right。
Was such infatuation ever heard of？ And can a man to…day have charms to
make you Forget all else； relieve his poverty； Give him a home； and
then 。 。 。 ？
ORGON Stop there； good brother； You do not know the man you're
speaking of。
CLEANTE Since you will have it so； I do not know him； But after all；
to tell what sort of man He is 。 。 。
ORGON Dear brother； you'd be charmed to know him； Your raptures
over him would have no end。 He is a man 。 。 。 who 。 。 。 ah！ 。 。 。 in fact 。 。 。a
man Whoever does his will； knows perfect peace； And counts the whole
world else； as so much dung。 His converse has transformed me quite； he
weans My heart from every friendship； teaches me To have no love for
anything on earth； And I could see my brother； children； mother； And wife；
all die； and never carea snap。
CLEANTE Your feelings are humane； I must say； brother！
ORGON Ah！ If you'd seen him； as I saw him first； You would have
loved him just as much as I。 He came to church each day； with contrite
mien； Kneeled； on both knees； right opposite my place； And drew the eyes
of all the congregation； To watch the fervour of his prayers to heaven；
With deep…drawn sighs and great ejaculations； He humbly kissed the earth
at every moment； And when I left the church； he ran before me To give me
holy water at the door。 I learned his poverty； and who he was； By
questioning his servant； who is like him； And gave him gifts； but in his
modesty He always wanted to return a part。 〃It is too much；〃 he'd say； 〃too
much by half； I am not worthy of your pity。〃 Then； When I refused to take
it back； he'd go； Before my eyes； and give it to the poor。 At length heaven
bade me take him to my home； And since that day； all seems to prosper
here。 He censures everything； and for my sake He even takes great interest
in my wife； He lets me know who ogles her； and seems Six times as
jealous as I am myself。 You'd not believe how far his zeal can go： He calls
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himself a sinner just for trifles； The merest nothing is enough to shock him；
So much so； that the other day I heard him Accuse himself for having；
while at prayer； In too much anger caught and killed a flea。
CLEANTE Zounds； brother； you are mad； I think！ Or else You're
making sport of me； with such a speech。 What are you driving at with all
this nonsense 。 。 。 ？
ORGON Brother； your language smacks of atheism； And I suspect
your soul's a little tainted Therewith。 I've preached to you a score of times
That you'll draw down some judgment on your head。
CLEANTE That is the usual strain of all your kind； They must have
every one as blind as they。 They call you atheist if you have good eyes；
And if you don't adore their vain grimaces； You've neither faith nor care
for sacred things。 No； no； such talk can't frighten me； I know What I am
saying； heaven sees my heart。 We're not the dupes of all your canting
mummers； There are false heroesand false devotees； And as true heroes
never are the ones Who make much noise about their deeds of honour； Just
so true devotees； whom we should follow； Are not the ones who make so
much vain show。 What！ Will you find no difference between Hypocrisy
and genuine devoutness？ And will you treat them both alike； and pay The
self…same honour both to masks and faces Set artifice beside sincerity；
Confuse the semblance with reality； Esteem a phantom like a living person；
And counterfeit as good as honest coin？ Men； for the most part； are
strange creatures； truly！ You never find them keep the golden mean； The
limits of good sense； too narrow for them； Must always be passed by； in
each direction； They often spoil the noblest things； because They go too
far； and push them to extremes。 I merely say this by the way； good brother。
ORGON You are the sole expounder of the doctrine； Wisdom shall die
with you； no doubt； good brother； You are the only wise； the sole
enlightened； The oracle； the Cato； of our age。 All men； compared to you；
are downright fools。
CLEANTE I'm not the sole expounder of the doctrine； And wisdom
shall not die with me； good brother。 But this I know； though it be all my
knowledge； That there's a difference 'twixt false and true。 And as I find no
kind of hero more To be admired than men of true religion； Nothing more
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noble or more beautiful Than is the holy zeal of true devoutness； Just so I
think there's naught more odious Than whited sepulchres of outward
unction； Those barefaced charlatans； those hireling zealots； Whose
sacrilegious； treacherous pretence Deceives at will； and with impunity
Makes mockery of all that men hold sacred； Men who； enslaved to selfish
interests； Make trade and merchandise of godliness； And try to purchase
influence and office With false eye…rollings and affected raptures； Those
men； I say； who with uncommon zeal Seek their own fortunes on the road
to heaven； Who； skilled in prayer； have always much to ask； And live at
court to preach retirement； Who reconcile religion with their vices； Are
quick to anger； vengeful； faithless； tricky； And； to destroy a man； will have
the boldness To call their private grudge the cause of heaven； All the more
dangerous； since in their anger They use against us weapons men revere；
And since they make the world applaud their passion； And seek to stab us
with a sacred sword。 There are too many of this canting kind。 Still； the
sincere are easy to distinguish； And many splendid patterns may be found；
In our own time； before our very eyes Look at Ariston； Periandre； Oronte；
Alcidamas； Clitandre； and Polydore； No one denies their claim to true
religion； Yet they're no braggadocios of virtue； They do not make
insufferable display； And their religion's human； tractable； They are not
always judging all our actions； They'd think such judgment savoured of
presumption； And； leaving pride of words to other men； 'Tis by their deeds
alone they censure ours。 Evil appearances find little credit With them； they
even incline to think the best Of others。 No caballers； no intriguers； They
mind the business of their own right living。 They don't attack a sinner
tooth and nail； For sin's the only object of their hatred； Nor are they over…
zealous to attempt Far more in heaven's behalf than heaven would have
'em。 That is my kind of man； that is true living；