Chapter 30

Valere, Orgon, Cleante, Elmire, Mariane, Madame Pernelle, Damis, Dorine

Valere. I'm sorry, sir, that I've come to distress you; But certain dangers may soon oppress you. A friend, whose love for me is deep and true And who knows how much I care about you, Has had enough courage to violate The secrecy of affairs of state And has just now sent me word that you might Be well-advised to take sudden flight. The villain who has been imposing on you Has gone to the Prince to accuse you too, And put into his hands, like a blade of hate, The vital papers of a traitor of State, Which he says that you've kept in secrecy Despite the duties of aristocracy. I don't know the details of the alleged crime, But a warrant against you has been signed, And he himself is assigned to assist Those who will soon come to make the arrest. Cleante. Now his claims are well-armed; and the ingrate Seeks to become master of your estate. Orgon. I swear, that man is a vile animal! Valere. The slightest trifling could well be fatal. My coach is right here to take you away With a thousand louis that I've pledged to pay. Don't lose any time; the arrow has sped, And this is one blow that ought to be fled. I myself will guide you to a safe place And will stay with you to be sure there's no chase. Orgon. I owe you much for your solicitude! But there isn't time for my gratitude, And I pray to God to grant what I need So that one day I may repay this good deed. Farewell. The rest of you take care . . . Cleante. Go on. We'll look after everything when you're gone.

Final Scene Police Officer, Tartuffe, Valere, Orgon, Elmire, Mariane, Madame Pernelle, Cleante, Damis, Dorine

Tartuffe [stopping Orgon]. Slowly, slowly, sir. You needn't run there. You won't have to go far to hide in your lair. In the Prince's name we will shackle you fast. Orgon. Traitor, you've kept this final shaft for last. This is the blow with which you dispatch me, And this is what crowns all your perfidy. Tartuffe. Your scorn causes me scant irritation; I bear it as a holy obligation. Cleante. This is scant sign of your moderation. Damis. How impudently the wretch mocks veneration! Tartuffe. None of your outbursts mean a thing to me, For I think of nothing but doing my duty. Mariane. Your pretense to honor is all a fake, And this is just the right job for you to take. Tartuffe. The task can only shower me with grace Since our Prince's command has sent me to this place. Orgon. But don't you recall how my charity Raised you, you ingrate, from your misery? Tartuffe. Yes, I know that I once received assistance, But my duty to the Prince demands this persistence: 'Tis a sacred duty of such fortitude That it has suppressed all my gratitude, And I would sacrifice to this powerful force Friends, wife, parents, and myself, of course. Elmire. The hypocrite! Dorine. How well he can create A treacherous cloak from all we venerate! Cleante. But if this zeal which drives you and with which You plume yourself lifts you to a holy niche, Why is it that it didn't come to life Until after he caught you with his wife, And why did you only denounce him today After honor made him chase you away? I don't claim that the gift of all his estates Ought to distract you from duty's dictates, But if you planned to reveal his treason here, Why were you willing to take his wealth back there? Tartuffe [to the Officer]. From all this noise, sir, please deliver me, And be so kind as to enforce your decree. Police Officer. Yes, I've been rather slow to issue it. Your own mouth aptly invites me to do it; And so it will be done if you will come Straight to the jail that will be your new home. Tartuffe. Who? Me, sir? Police Officer. Yes, you. Tartuffe. But why to prison? Police Office. I need not explain to you my reason. [To Orgon.] Calm yourself, sir, after passions of such heat. We're ruled by a Prince who's a foe to deceit, A Prince whose eyes can read what the soul has writ, And who can't be fooled by a hypocrite. Blessed with a fine discernment, his great heart Always sees the whole picture, not just each part. Nothing can drive him to exaggeration; His firm reason clings to moderation. He confers on men of worth immortal glory; But that zeal is not blind or peremptory, And his love for what's true does not turn his eye From the power of falseness to horrify. This man here was unable to entrap him; His defenses are sound when such snares enwrap him. From the start, he pierced with his perceptive sight Through the veils that hid this evil from light. Tartuffe betrayed himself by accusing you, And, in divine justice, revealed his true Colors to the Prince as an infamous cad Whose deeds under another name were so bad That the record they made was wholly black And Satan might use them as his almanac. In short, this king was revolted to see His ingratitude to you and disloyalty; To his other crimes, he has joined this one And has only allowed it so everyone Could see his audacity's evil ends And then see him required to make amends. All your papers, which the wretch has pawed through, Are here taken away and returned to you. With his sovereign power he will abrogate The contract by which you gave away your estate, And finally he pardons that secret offense Which you once committed through benevolence. This is the reward for the courage you showed In support of his rights in the late episode, And to demonstrate that, when least expected, One's past deeds may be recollected, That he will never forget a good deed, And that good outweighs evil in time of need. Dorine. Heaven be praised! Madame Pernelle. We're no longer distressed. Elmire. What a happy ending! Mariane. Who could have guessed? Orgon [to Tartuffe, who the Officer is leading away]. Good. There you go, traitor . . . Cleante. Ah! Brother, cease, And don't degenerate to indignities. Leave to himself this miserable clown, And don't add to the remorse that weighs him down. Hope instead that his heart may one day Make a happy return to the virtuous way, That he'll reform his life and lament his past, And cause our great Prince to temper justice at last. You should throw yourself on your knees in praise Of the kindness and lenience shown these days. Orgon. Yes, that's well said. Let us kneel down with joy And praise the kind deeds of his envoy. Then, having acquitted part of our duty, Let's turn to address the claims of beauty, And by a fine wedding crown in Valere A lover who's both generous and sincere.

THE END