Жан-Батист Мольер - Tartuffe; Or, The Hypocrite

Tartuffe.

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

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

What, father, you would … ?

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.

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.

What! Is the thing incredible?

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

I know a way to make you credit it.

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

I'm telling you just what will happen shortly.

Stuff!

Daughter, what I say is in good earnest.

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

But I tell you …

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

If I let my anger …

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 …?

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.

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?

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.

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: