Tartuffe, Elmire, Orgon (under the table)
Tartuffe. You wish to speak with me in here, I'm told.
Elmire. Yes. I now have some secrets to unfold,
But shut the door before I say a word
And look around--we mustn't be overheard.
[Tartuffe closes the door and returns.]
I don't want another fracas to ensue
Like the one that overtook us hitherto.
Never before have I been so dismayed!
Damis startled me and made me afraid
For you. You must have seen that I did my best
To disrupt his plan and soothe his unrest.
It is true that I was so filled with shame
That I never thought of denying his claim,
But by the grace of God, I'm nearly sure
All is for the best and we're now more secure.
The prestige of your name has dispelled the storm,
And my husband will never suspect you of harm.
Defying those with rumors to foment,
He wants us together at every moment.
And that is why without blame I can
Be alone with you although you're a man,
And that allows me to open my heart
Willingly to the sweet thoughts you impart.
Tartuffe. I find it odd that you have kind words to say;
Earlier you treated me in a different way.
Elmire. Ah! If you're angry about that rebuff,
You know nothing about a woman's love!
And how little you know about our intent
If you think a weak defense is really meant!
At such times our modesty must contend
With the tender feelings that triumph in the end.
No matter how strongly you make love's claim,
In embracing it we always feel some shame.
We resist at first, but in our faces
It's clear that we'll soon yield to your embraces.
Our words and our wishes are often opposed:
A refusal may mean we accept what's proposed.
No doubt I am making too free a confession
And I may be committing an indiscretion,
But since my attempt at silence has gone awry,
Ask yourself why I sought to pacify
Damis, and what made me listen so long
And so kindly to your sweet love song?
Would I have reacted as you saw me do
If the offer of your heart didn't please me too?
And what should you be able to conclude
From my fervent desire to preclude
The marriage that has been announced just now?
Isn't it that I'd hate for a wedding vow
To come between us, and that I care for you
And want nothing at all to split us in two?
Tartuffe. There is no pleasure in Heaven above
Sweeter than such words from the lips I love;
Their honeyed sound flows richly through my senses
With the sweetness of the purest essences.
The pleasure of pleasing you is my one goal,
And my heart finds happiness in that role,
But that heart also takes the slight liberty
Of daring to doubt this felicity.
Perhaps these sweet words are a decorous ruse
Designed to disrupt my hymeneal news;
And, if I may speak quite freely with you,
I won't believe that all you say is true
Until I'm assured that you couldn't lie
By a few of those favors for which I sigh.
Such favors would make me your devotee
And a true believer in your fondness for me.
Elmire [she coughs to warn her husband]. Do you demand to push on with such great speed,
And drain my heart dry by your burning need?
I risk my life in proclaiming my love,
And for you even that is not enough!
Can't you be satisfied with what I say?
Must you force me into going all the way?
Tartuffe. The less one merits, the more one desires.
Mere words will never quench our raging fires.
A promised gift is often suspected;
We rarely believe it, until we inspect it.
I, who so little merit your favors,
Doubt the happy outcome of my labors.
And I will not believe a thing, my dear,
Until you ease my pain to prove you're sincere.
Elmire. Good God, your love is too oppressive;
It troubles my soul and becomes obsessive!
What a crazy power it has on the heart!
With what fierce passion it tears me apart!
What! Is there no way to stave off your desire?
Won't you give me a moment to respire?
Do you think it is fair to be so firm,
To demand everything and watch me squirm,
To take what you want, pushing and pressing,
And abusing my weakness in acquiescing?
Tartuffe. If you look on me with a kindly heart,
Then prove how you feel by playing your part.
Elmire. But how can I give you the things you seek
Without offending that God of whom you speak?
Tartuffe. If it's only God that opposes my desire,
I'll think up a way to make him conspire,
And that need not restrain your heart, my dear.
Elmire. But the decrees of God scare me to tears.
Tartuffe. I can dispel your foolish fears, madame,
For I know the art of quashing each qualm.
Though God forbids certain gratifications,
With him one can reach one's accommodations.
It is a science to stretch out the strings
Of conscience in the service of diverse things
And to rectify an evil action
With the purity of our intention.
Regarding these secrets, I shall instruct you;
You need only allow me to conduct you.
Satisfy my desire and have no fear;
I'll assume the sin and leave your soul clear.
[Elmire coughs more loudly.]
That's quite a cough, madame.
Elmire. Yes, it's a torment.
Tartuffe [offering Elmire a piece of candy]. Would it help to have a licorice or mint?
Elmire. It's an obstinate illness, and I see
That all the mints in the world won't help me
Tartuffe. It's certainly troublesome.
Elmire. That's for sure!
Tartuffe. Your scruples at least are easy to cure:
You can be sure that I will keep things quiet--
A deed is evil only if men spy it.
The noise of scandal is the source of offense;
There is no sin if one sins in silence.
Elmire [after having coughed and knocked on the table]. At last I see I'm forced to go astray,
And I must consent to let you have your way,
And that I cannot hope that short of the deed
You will be content and willing to concede.
It is very hard to be forced to do it,
And in spite of myself to stoop down to it;
But since you persist in making me obey,
Since you refuse to believe what I say,
And since you demand more convincing proof,
I'll have to give in and quit acting aloof.
If this action causes anyone grief,
The blame be on him who refused all relief.
The fault most certainly is none of mine.
Tartuffe. Yes, madame, I agree and that is fine . . .
Elmire. Peek out of the door and see, I beg you,
If my spouse is spying on our rendezvous.
Tartuffe. Why do you care what he sees or where he goes?
He's a man who loves to be led by the nose.
Our trysts are something he's proud of achieving,
And he'd watch us go to it without believing.
Elmire. No matter. Please, go have a look outside;
I'd hate to think he's found some place to hide.