TARTUFFE
The less a blessing is deserved, the less We dare to hope for it; and words alone Can ill assuage our love's desires.A fate Too full of happiness, seems doubtful still;We must enjoy it ere we can believe it.
And I, who know how little I deserve Your goodness, doubt the fortunes of my daring;So I shall trust to nothing, madam, till You have convinced my love by something real.
ELMIRE
Ah! How your love enacts the tyrant's role, And throws my mind into a strange confusion!
With what fierce sway it rules a conquered heart, And violently will have its wishes granted!
What! Is there no escape from your pursuit?
No respite even?--not a breathing space?
Nay, is it decent to be so exacting, And so abuse by urgency the weakness You may discover in a woman's heart?
TARTUFFE
But if my worship wins your gracious favour, Then why refuse me some sure proof thereof?
ELMIRE
But how can I consent to what you wish, Without offending Heaven you talk so much of?
TARTUFFE
If Heaven is all that stands now in my way, I'll easily remove that little hindrance;Your heart need not hold back for such a trifle.
ELMIRE
But they affright us so with Heaven's commands!
TARTUFFE
I can dispel these foolish fears, dear madam;I know the art of pacifying scruples Heaven forbids, 'tis true, some satisfactions;But we find means to make things right with Heaven.
('Tis a scoundrel speaking.) [5]
[Footnote 5: Moliere's note, in the original edition.]
There is a science, madam, that instructs us How to enlarge the limits of our conscience According to our various occasions, And rectify the evil of the deed According to our purity of motive.
I'll duly teach you all these secrets, madam;You only need to let yourself be guided.
Content my wishes, have no fear at all;
I answer for't, and take the sin upon me.
(Elmire coughs still louder.)
Your cough is very bad.
ELMIRE
Yes, I'm in torture.
TARTUFFE
Would you accept this bit of licorice?
ELMIRE
The case is obstinate, I find; and all The licorice in the world will do no good.
TARTUFFE
'Tis very trying.
ELMIRE
More than words can say.
TARTUFFE
In any case, your scruple's easily Removed.With me you're sure of secrecy, And there's no harm unless a thing is known.
The public scandal is what brings offence, And secret sinning is not sin at all.
ELMIRE (after coughing again)
So then, I see I must resolve to yield;
I must consent to grant you everything, And cannot hope to give full satisfaction Or win full confidence, at lesser cost.
No doubt 'tis very hard to come to this;
'Tis quite against my will I go so far;
But since I must be forced to it, since nothing That can be said suffices for belief, Since more convincing proof is still demanded, I must make up my mind to humour people.
If my consent give reason for offence, So much the worse for him who forced me to it;The fault can surely not be counted mine.
TARTUFFE
It need not, madam; and the thing itself...
ELMIRE
Open the door, I pray you, and just see Whether my husband's not there, in the hall.
TARTUFFE
Why take such care for him? Between ourselves, He is a man to lead round by the nose.
He's capable of glorying in our meetings;
I've fooled him so, he'd see all, and deny it.
ELMIRE
No matter; go, I beg you, look about, And carefully examine every corner.
