Chapter 11

Tartuffe, Laurent, Dorine

Tartuffe [observing Dorine]. Laurent, lock up my hair shirt and my scourge, And pray for freedom from each carnal urge. If anyone comes calling, say I have gone To share my alms with the poor souls in prison. Dorine [aside]. Such affectation and boastful behavior! Tartuffe. What do you wish? Dorine. To say . . . Tartuffe [taking a handkerchief from his pocket]. Wait! By our Savior, Please! Before you speak take this handkerchief. Dorine. Why? Tartuffe. Because seeing your bosom causes me grief. Through one's eyes one's soul may be wounded, And then sinful thoughts may grow unattended. Dorine. Then you are quite ready for temptation, And bare skin makes on you a big impression. I truly don't know why you feel such passion; I myself think lust is out of fashion, For I could see you nude from top to toe Without your pelt setting my cheeks aglow. Tartuffe. Put a little modesty in your discourse Or I must leave you instantly perforce. Dorine. No, it is I who will leave you here in peace, And I will just say this before I cease: Madam is coming down to visit you And demands the favor of a rendezvous. Tartuffe. Oh yes! Most willingly! Dorine [to herself]. Isn't he sweet! I'm even surer now that dog's in heat. Tartuffe. Will she soon come? Dorine. I think I can hear her. Yes, there. Now I will leave you two together.