Tartuffe Or the Hypocrite - LightNovelsOnl.com
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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 b.u.t.t 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]
[Footnote 3: As given at the Comedie francaise, the action is as follows: While Orgon says, "You must approve of my design," Dorine is making signs to Mariane to resist his orders; Orgon turns around suddenly; but Dorine quickly changes her gesture and with the hand which she had lifted calmly arranges her hair and her cap. Orgon goes on, "Think of the husband ..." and stops before the middle of his sentence to turn and catch the beginning of Dorine's gesture; but he is too quick this time, and Dorine stands looking at his furious countenance with a sweet and gentle expression. He turns and goes on, and the obstinate Dorine again lifts her hand behind his shoulder to urge Mariane to resistance: this time he catches her; but just as he swings his shoulder to give her the promised blow, she stops him by changing the intent of her gesture, and carefully picking from the top of his sleeve a bit of fluff which she holds carefully between her fingers, then blows into the air, and watches intently as it floats away. Orgon is paralysed by her innocence of expression, and compelled to hide his rage.--Regnier, _Le Tartuffe des Comediens_.]
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 fl.u.s.tered 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.