полная версия

Мольер (Жан-Батист Поклен)
Tartuffe; Or, The Hypocrite

Полная версия

 
  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,
  That is the pattern we should set ourselves.
  Your fellow was not fashioned on this model;
  You're quite sincere in boasting of his zeal;
  But you're deceived, I think, by false pretences.
 

ORGON

 
  My dear good brother-in-law, have you quite done?
 

CLEANTE

 
  Yes.
 

ORGON

 
  I'm your humble servant.
(Starts to go.)
 

CLEANTE

 
  Just a word.
  We'll drop that other subject. But you know
  Valere has had the promise of your daughter.
 

ORGON

 
  Yes.
 

CLEANTE

 
  You had named the happy day.
 

ORGON

 
  'Tis true.
 

CLEANTE

 
  Then why put off the celebration of it?
 

ORGON

 
  I can't say.
 

CLEANTE

 
  Can you have some other plan
  In mind?
 

ORGON

 
  Perhaps.
 

CLEANTE

 
  You mean to break your word?
 

ORGON

 
  I don't say that.
 

CLEANTE

 
  I hope no obstacle
  Can keep you from performing what you've promised.
 

ORGON

 
  Well, that depends.
 

CLEANTE

 
  Why must you beat about?
  Valere has sent me here to settle matters.
 

ORGON

 
  Heaven be praised!
 

CLEANTE

 
  What answer shall I take him?
 

ORGON

 
  Why, anything you please.
 

CLEANTE

 
  But we must know
  Your plans. What are they?
 

ORGON

 
  I shall do the will
  Of Heaven.
 

CLEANTE

 
  Come, be serious. You've given
  Your promise to Valere. Now will you keep it?
 

ORGON

 
  Good-bye.
  CLEANTE (alone)
  His love, methinks, has much to fear;
  I must go let him know what's happening here.
 

ACT II

SCENE I

ORGON, MARIANE

ORGON

 
  Now, Mariane.
 

MARIANE

 
  Yes, father?
 

ORGON

 
  Come; I'll tell you
  A secret.
 

MARIANE

 
  Yes … What are you looking for?
  ORGON (looking into a small closet-room)
  To see there's no one there to spy upon us;
  That little closet's mighty fit to hide in.
  There! We're all right now. Mariane, in you
  I've always found a daughter dutiful
  And gentle. So I've always love you dearly.
 

MARIANE

 
  I'm grateful for your fatherly affection.
 

ORGON

 
  Well spoken, daughter. Now, prove you deserve it
  By doing as I wish in all respects.
 

MARIANE

 
  To do so is the height of my ambition.
 

ORGON

 
  Excellent well. What say you of – Tartuffe?
 

MARIANE

 
  Who? I?
 

ORGON

 
  Yes, you. Look to it how you answer.
 

MARIANE

 
  Why! I'll say of him – anything you please.
 

SCENE II

 
  ORGON, MARIANE, DORINE (coming in quietly and standing behind
  Orgon, so that he does not see her)
 

ORGON

 
  Well spoken. A good girl. Say then, my daughter,
  That all his person shines with noble merit,
  That he has won your heart, and you would like
  To have him, by my choice, become your husband.
  Eh?
 

MARIANE

 
  Eh?
 

ORGON

 
  What say you?
 

MARIANE

 
  Please, what did you say?
 

ORGON

 
  What?
 

MARIANE

 
  Surely I mistook you, sir?
 

ORGON

 
  How now?
 

MARIANE

 
  Who is it, father, you would have me say
  Has won my heart, and I would like to have
  Become my husband, by your choice?
 

ORGON

 
  Tartuffe.
 

MARIANE

 
  But, father, I protest it isn't true!
  Why should you make me tell this dreadful lie?
 

ORGON

 
  Because I mean to have it be the truth.
  Let this suffice for you: I've settled it.
 

MARIANE

 
  What, father, you would … ?
 

ORGON

 
  Yes, child, I'm resolved
  To graft Tartuffe into my family.
  So he must be your husband. That I've settled.
  And since your duty ..
  (Seeing Dorine)
  What are you doing there?
  Your curiosity is keen, my girl,
  To make you come eavesdropping on us so.
 

DORINE

 
  Upon my word, I don't know how the rumour
  Got started – if 'twas guess-work or mere chance
  But I had heard already of this match,
  And treated it as utter stuff and nonsense.
 

ORGON

 
  What! Is the thing incredible?
 

DORINE

 
  So much so
  I don't believe it even from yourself, sir.
 

ORGON

 
  I know a way to make you credit it.
 

DORINE

 
  No, no, you're telling us a fairly tale!
 

ORGON

 
  I'm telling you just what will happen shortly.
 

DORINE

 
  Stuff!
 

ORGON

 
  Daughter, what I say is in good earnest.
 

DORINE

 
  There, there, don't take your father seriously;
  He's fooling.
 

ORGON

 
  But I tell you …
 

DORINE

 
  No. No use.
  They won't believe you.
 

ORGON

 
  If I let my anger …
 

DORINE

 
  Well, then, we do believe you; and the worse
  For you it is. What! Can a grown-up man
  With that expanse of beard across his face
  Be mad enough to want …?
 

ORGON

 
  You hark me:
  You've taken on yourself here in this house
  A sort of free familiarity
  That I don't like, I tell you frankly, girl.
 

DORINE

 
  There, there, let's not get angry, sir, I beg you.
  But are you making game of everybody?
  Your daughter's not cut out for bigot's meat;
  And he has more important things to think of.
  Besides, what can you gain by such a match?
  How can a man of wealth, like you, go choose
  A wretched vagabond for son-in-law?
 

ORGON

 
  You hold your tongue. And know, the less he has,
  The better cause have we to honour him.
  His poverty is honest poverty;
  It should exalt him more than worldly grandeur,
  For he has let himself be robbed of all,
  Through careless disregard of temporal things
  And fixed attachment to the things eternal.
  My help may set him on his feet again,
  Win back his property – a fair estate
  He has at home, so I'm informed – and prove him
  For what he is, a true-born gentleman.
 

DORINE

 
  Yes, so he says himself. Such vanity
  But ill accords with pious living, sir.
  The man who cares for holiness alone
  Should not so loudly boast his name and birth;
  The humble ways of genuine devoutness
  Brook not so much display of earthly pride.
  Why should he be so vain? … But I offend you:
  Let's leave his rank, then, – take the man himself:
  Can you without compunction give a man
  Like him possession of a girl like her?
  Think what a scandal's sure to come of it!
  Virtue is at the mercy of the fates,
  When a girl's married to a man she hates;
  The best intent to live an honest woman
  Depends upon the husband's being human,
  And men whose brows are pointed at afar
  May thank themselves their wives are what they are.
  For to be true is more than woman can,
  With husbands built upon a certain plan;
  And he who weds his child against her will
  Owes heaven account for it, if she do ill.
  Think then what perils wait on your design.
  ORGON (to Mariane)
  So! I must learn what's what from her, you see!
 

DORINE

 
  You might do worse than follow my advice.
 

ORGON

 
  Daughter, we can't waste time upon this nonsense;
  I know what's good for you, and I'm your father.
  True, I had promised you to young Valere;
  But, first, they tell me he's inclined to gamble,
  And then, I fear his faith is not quite sound.
  I haven't noticed that he's regular
  At church.
 

DORINE

 
  You'd have him run there just when you do.
  Like those who go on purpose to be seen?
 

ORGON

 
  I don't ask your opinion on the matter.
  In short, the other is in Heaven's best graces,
  And that is riches quite beyond compare.
  This match will bring you every joy you long for;
  'Twill be all steeped in sweetness and delight.
  You'll live together, in your faithful loves,
  Like two sweet children, like two turtle-doves;
  You'll never fail to quarrel, scold, or tease,
  And you may do with him whate'er you please.
 

DORINE

 
  With him? Do naught but give him horns, I'll warrant.
 

ORGON

 
  Out on thee, wench!
 

DORINE

 
  I tell you he's cut out for't;
  However great your daughter's virtue, sir,
  His destiny is sure to prove the stronger.
 

ORGON

 
  Have done with interrupting. Hold your tongue.
  Don't poke your nose in other people's business.
  DORINE (She keeps interrupting him, just as he turns and starts
  to speak to his daughter).
  If I make bold, sir, 'tis for your own good.
 

ORGON

 
  You're too officious; pray you, hold your tongue.
 

DORINE

 
  'Tis love of you …
 

ORGON

 
  I want none of your love.
 

DORINE

 
  Then I will love you in your own despite.
 

ORGON

 
  You will, eh?
 

DORINE

 
  Yes, your honour's dear to me;
  I can't endure to see you made the butt
  Of all men's ridicule.
 

ORGON

 
  Won't you be still?
 

DORINE

 
  'Twould be a sin to let you make this match.
 

ORGON

 
  Won't you be still, I say, you impudent viper!
 

DORINE

 
  What! you are pious, and you lose your temper?
 

ORGON

 
  I'm all wrought up, with your confounded nonsense;
  Now, once for all, I tell you hold your tongue.
 

DORINE

 
  Then mum's the word; I'll take it out in thinking.
 

ORGON

 
  Think all you please; but not a syllable
  To me about it, or … you understand!
  (Turning to his daughter.)
  As a wise father, I've considered all
  With due deliberation.
 

DORINE

 
  I'll go mad
  If I can't speak.
  (She stops the instant he turns his head.)
 

ORGON

 
  Though he's no lady's man,
  Tartuffe is well enough …
 

DORINE

 
  A pretty phiz!
 

ORGON

 
  So that, although you may not care at all
  For his best qualities …
 

DORINE

 
  A handsome dowry!
  (Orgon turns and stands in front of her, with arms folded, eyeing
  her.)
  Were I in her place, any man should rue it
  Who married me by force, that's mighty certain;
  I'd let him know, and that within a week,
  A woman's vengeance isn't far to seek.
  ORGON (to Dorine)
  So – nothing that I say has any weight?
 

DORINE

 
  Eh? What's wrong now? I didn't speak to you.
 

ORGON

 
  What were you doing?
 

DORINE

 
  Talking to myself.
 

ORGON

 
  Oh! Very well. (Aside.) Her monstrous impudence
  Must be chastised with one good slap in the face.
  (He stands ready to strike her, and, each time he speaks to his
  daughter, he glances toward her; but she stands still and says not a
  word.) ³
 

ORGON

 
  Daughter, you must approve of my design…
  Think of this husband … I have chosen for you…
  (To Dorine)
  Why don't you talk to yourself?
 

DORINE

 
  Nothing to say.
 

ORGON

 
  One little word more.
 

DORINE

 
  Oh, no, thanks. Not now.
 

ORGON

 
  Sure, I'd have caught you.
 

DORINE

 
  Faith, I'm no such fool.
 

ORGON

 
  So, daughter, now obedience is the word;
  You must accept my choice with reverence.
  DORINE (running away)
  You'd never catch me marrying such a creature.
  ORGON (swinging his hand at her and missing her)
  Daughter, you've such a pestilent hussy there
  I can't live with her longer, without sin.
  I can't discuss things in the state I'm in.
  My mind's so flustered by her insolent talk,
  To calm myself, I must go take a walk.
 

SCENE III

MARIANE, DORINE

DORINE

 
  Say, have you lost the tongue from out your head?
  And must I speak your role from A to Zed?
  You let them broach a project that's absurd,
  And don't oppose it with a single word!
 

MARIANE

 
  What can I do? My father is the master.
 

DORINE

 
  Do? Everything, to ward off such disaster.
 

MARIANE

 
  But what?
 

DORINE

 
  Tell him one doesn't love by proxy;
  Tell him you'll marry for yourself, not him;
  Since you're the one for whom the thing is done,
  You are the one, not he, the man must please;
  If his Tartuffe has charmed him so, why let him
  Just marry him himself – no one will hinder.
 

MARIANE

 
  A father's rights are such, it seems to me,
  That I could never dare to say a word.
 

DORINE

 
  Came, talk it out. Valere has asked your hand:
  Now do you love him, pray, or do you not?
 

MARIANE

 
  Dorine! How can you wrong my love so much,
  And ask me such a question? Have I not
  A hundred times laid bare my heart to you?
  Do you know how ardently I love him?
 

DORINE

 
  How do I know if heart and words agree,
  And if in honest truth you really love him?
 

MARIANE

 
  Dorine, you wrong me greatly if you doubt it;
  I've shown my inmost feelings, all too plainly.
 

DORINE

 
  So then, you love him?
 

MARIANE

 
  Yes, devotedly.
 

DORINE

 
  And he returns your love, apparently?
 

MARIANE

 
  I think so.
 

DORINE

 
  And you both alike are eager
  To be well married to each other?
 

MARIANE

 
  Surely.
 

DORINE

 
  Then what's your plan about this other match?
 

MARIANE

 
  To kill myself, if it is forced upon me.
 

DORINE

 
  Good! That's a remedy I hadn't thought of.
  Just die, and everything will be all right.
  This medicine is marvellous, indeed!
  It drives me mad to hear folk talk such nonsense.
 

MARIANE

 
  Oh dear, Dorine you get in such a temper!
  You have no sympathy for people's troubles.
 

DORINE

 
  I have no sympathy when folk talk nonsense,
  And flatten out as you do, at a pinch.
 

MARIANE

 
  But what can you expect? – if one is timid? —
 

DORINE

 
  But what is love worth, if it has no courage?
 

MARIANE

 
  Am I not constant in my love for him?
  Is't not his place to win me from my father?
 

DORINE

 
  But if your father is a crazy fool,
  And quite bewitched with his Tartuffe? And breaks
  His bounden word? Is that your lover's fault?
 

MARIANE

 
  But shall I publicly refuse and scorn
  This match, and make it plain that I'm in love?
  Shall I cast off for him, whate'er he be,
  Womanly modesty and filial duty?
  You ask me to display my love in public … ?
 

DORINE

 
  No, no, I ask you nothing. You shall be
  Mister Tartuffe's; why, now I think of it,
  I should be wrong to turn you from this marriage.
  What cause can I have to oppose your wishes?
  So fine a match! An excellent good match!
  Mister Tartuffe! Oh ho! No mean proposal!
  Mister Tartuffe, sure, take it all in all,
  Is not a man to sneeze at – oh, by no means!
  'Tis no small luck to be his happy spouse.
  The whole world joins to sing his praise already;
  He's noble – in his parish; handsome too;
  Red ears and high complexion – oh, my lud!
  You'll be too happy, sure, with him for husband.
 

MARIANE

 
  Oh dear! …
 

DORINE

 
  What joy and pride will fill your heart
  To be the bride of such a handsome fellow!
 

MARIANE

 
  Oh, stop, I beg you; try to find some way
  To help break off the match. I quite give in,
  I'm ready to do anything you say.
 

DORINE

 
  No, no, a daughter must obey her father,
  Though he should want to make her wed a monkey.
  Besides, your fate is fine. What could be better!
  You'll take the stage-coach to his little village,
  And find it full of uncles and of cousins,
  Whose conversation will delight you. Then
  You'll be presented in their best society.
  You'll even go to call, by way of welcome,
  On Mrs. Bailiff, Mrs. Tax-Collector,
  Who'll patronise you with a folding-stool.
  There, once a year, at carnival, you'll have
  Perhaps – a ball; with orchestra – two bag-pipes;
  And sometimes a trained ape, and Punch and Judy;
  Though if your husband …
 

MARIANE

 
  Oh, you'll kill me. Please
  Contrive to help me out with your advice.
 

DORINE

 
  I thank you kindly.
 

MARIANE

 
  Oh! Dorine, I beg you …
 

DORINE

 
  To serve you right, this marriage must go through.
 

MARIANE

 
  Dear girl!
 

DORINE

 
  No.
 

MARIANE

 
  If I say I love Valere …
 

DORINE

 
  No, no. Tartuffe's your man, and you shall taste him.
 

MARIANE

 
  You know I've always trusted you; now help me …
 

DORINE

 
  No, you shall be, my faith! Tartuffified.
 

MARIANE

 
  Well, then, since you've no pity for my fate
  Let me take counsel only of despair;
  It will advise and help and give me courage;
  There's one sure cure, I know, for all my troubles.
(She starts to go.)
 

DORINE

 
  There, there! Come back. I can't be angry long.
  I must take pity on you, after all.
 

MARIANE

 
  Oh, don't you see, Dorine, if I must bear
  This martyrdom, I certainly shall die.
 

DORINE

 
  Now don't you fret. We'll surely find some way.
  To hinder this … But here's Valere, your lover.
 

SCENE IV

VALERE, MARIANE, DORINE

VALERE

 
  Madam, a piece of news – quite new to me —
  Has just come out, and very fine it is.
 

MARIANE

 
  What piece of news?
 

VALERE

 
  Your marriage with Tartuffe.
 

MARIANE

 
  'Tis true my father has this plan in mind.
 

VALERE

 
  Your father, madam …
 

MARIANE

 
  Yes, he's changed his plans,
  And did but now propose it to me.
 

VALERE

 
  What!
  Seriously?
 

MARIANE

 
  Yes, he was serious,
  And openly insisted on the match.
 

VALERE

 
  And what's your resolution in the matter,
  Madam?
 

MARIANE

 
  I don't know.
 

VALERE

 
  That's a pretty answer.
  You don't know?
 

MARIANE

 
  No.
 

VALERE

 
  No?
 

MARIANE

 
  What do you advise?
 

VALERE

 
  I? My advice is, marry him, by all means.
 

MARIANE

 
  That's your advice?
 

VALERE

 
  Yes.
 

MARIANE

 
  Do you mean it?
 

VALERE

 
  Surely.
  A splendid choice, and worthy of your acceptance.
 

MARIANE

 
  Oh, very well, sir! I shall take your counsel.
 

VALERE

 
  You'll find no trouble taking it, I warrant.
 

MARIANE

 
  No more than you did giving it, be sure.
 

VALERE

 
  I gave it, truly, to oblige you, madam.
 

MARIANE

 
  And I shall take it to oblige you, sir.
  Dorine (withdrawing to the back of the stage)
  Let's see what this affair will come to.
 

VALERE

 
  So,
  That is your love? And it was all deceit
  When you …
 

MARIANE

 
  I beg you, say no more of that.
  You told me, squarely, sir, I should accept
  The husband that is offered me; and I
  Will tell you squarely that I mean to do so,
  Since you have given me this good advice.
 

VALERE

 
  Don't shield yourself with talk of my advice.
  You had your mind made up, that's evident;
  And now you're snatching at a trifling pretext
  To justify the breaking of your word.
 

MARIANE

 
  Exactly so.
 

VALERE

 
  Of course it is; your heart
  Has never known true love for me.
 

MARIANE

 
  Alas!
  You're free to think so, if you please.
 

VALERE

 
  Yes, yes,
  I'm free to think so; and my outraged love
  May yet forestall you in your perfidy,
  And offer elsewhere both my heart and hand.
 

MARIANE

 
  No doubt of it; the love your high deserts
  May win …
 

VALERE

 
  Good Lord, have done with my deserts!
  I know I have but few, and you have proved it.
  But I may find more kindness in another;
  I know of someone, who'll not be ashamed
  To take your leavings, and make up my loss.
 

MARIANE

 
  The loss is not so great; you'll easily
  Console yourself completely for this change.
 

VALERE

 
  I'll try my best, that you may well believe.
  When we're forgotten by a woman's heart,
  Our pride is challenged; we, too, must forget;
  Or if we cannot, must at least pretend to.
  No other way can man such baseness prove,
  As be a lover scorned, and still in love.
 

MARIANE

 
  In faith, a high and noble sentiment.
 

VALERE

 
  Yes; and it's one that all men must approve.
  What! Would you have me keep my love alive,
  And see you fly into another's arms
  Before my very eyes; and never offer
  To someone else the heart that you had scorned?
 

MARIANE

 
  Oh, no, indeed! For my part, I could wish
  That it were done already.
 

VALERE

 
  What! You wish it?
 

MARIANE

 
  Yes.
 

VALERE

 
  This is insult heaped on injury;
  I'll go at once and do as you desire.
(He takes a step or two as if to go away.)
 

MARIANE

 
  Oh, very well then.
  VALERE (turning back)
  But remember this.
  'Twas you that drove me to this desperate pass.
 

MARIANE

 
  Of course.
  VALERE (turning back again)
  And in the plan that I have formed
  I only follow your example.
 

MARIANE

 
  Yes.
  VALERE (at the door)
  Enough; you shall be punctually obeyed.
 

MARIANE

 
  So much the better.
  VALERE (coming back again)
  This is once for all.
 

MARIANE

 
  So be it, then.
  VALERE (He goes toward the door, but just as he reaches it, turns
  around)
  Eh?
 

MARIANE

 
  What?
 

VALERE

 
  You didn't call me?
 

MARIANE

 
  I? You are dreaming.
 

VALERE

 
  Very well, I'm gone. Madam, farewell.
(He walks slowly away.)
 

MARIANE

 
  Farewell, sir.
 

DORINE

 
  I must say
  You've lost your senses and both gone clean daft!
  I've let you fight it out to the end o' the chapter
  To see how far the thing could go. Oho, there,
  Mister Valere!
  (She goes and seizes him by the arm, to stop him. He makes a great
  show of resistance.)
 

VALERE

 
  What do you want, Dorine?
 

DORINE

 
  Come here.
 

VALERE

 
  No, no, I'm quite beside myself.
  Don't hinder me from doing as she wishes.