These visits, these assemblies, and these balls,
Are all inventions of the evil spirit.
You never hear a word of godliness
At them--but idle cackle, nonsense, flimflam.
Our neighbour often comes in for a share,
The talk flies fast, and scandal fills the air;
It makes a sober person's head go round,
At these assemblies, just to hear the sound
Of so much gab, with not a word to say;
And as a learned man remarked one day
Most aptly, 'tis the Tower of Babylon,
Where all, beyond all limit, babble on.
And just to tell you how this point came in . . .
(To Cleante)
So! Now the gentlemen must snicker, must he?
Go find fools like yourself to make you laugh
And don't . . .
(To Elmire)
Daughter, good-bye; not one word more.
As for this house, I leave the half unsaid;
But I shan't soon set foot in it again,
(Cuffing Flipotte)
Come, you! What makes you dream and stand agape,
Hussy! I'll warm your ears in proper shape!
March, trollop, march!
SCENE II
CLEANTE, DORINE
CLEANTE
I won't escort her down,
For fear she might fall foul of me again;
The good old lady . . .
DORINE
Bless us! What a pity
She shouldn't hear the way you speak of her!
She'd surely tell you you're too "good" by half,
And that she's not so "old" as all that, neither!
CLEANTE
How she got angry with us all for nothing!
And how she seems possessed with her Tartuffe!
DORINE
Her case is nothing, though, beside her son's!
To see him, you would say he's ten times worse!
His conduct in our late unpleasantness [1]
Had won him much esteem, and proved his courage
In service of his king; but now he's like
A man besotted, since he's been so taken
With this Tartuffe.
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