TARTUFFE
A monologue from the
play by Molière
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NOTE: This monologue is reprinted
from The Dramatic Works of Molière, Vol. II. Ed.
Charles Heron Wall. London: George Bell & Sons, 1898. |
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ORGON: Ah! if you had only seen him when I first met
him, you would feel for him the same love that I have. He came
every day to church, and with gentle looks knelt down straight
before me on both his knees. He attracted the attention of the
whole congregation by the ardour with which, wrapped in saintly
ecstasy, he sent up his prayer to Heaven. He sighed deeply, and
every moment humbly kissed the ground. When I went out, he would
steal quickly before me to offer me holy water at the door. Having
heard through his servant, who imitates him in everything, of
his poverty and who he is, I made him small presents, but he,
with the greatest modesty, always returned part of it: "It
is too much," he would say, "too much by half, I do
not deserve your pity;" and when I refused to take it back
again, he went, before my eyes, to distribute it to the poor.
At last Heaven moved me to take him into my house, and since
then everything has been prospering here. I see that he reproves
everything, and, with regard to my wife, takes extreme care of
my honour. He warns me of the people who cast loving eyes upon
her, and is a dozen times more jealous of her than I am. You
would never believe how far he carries his pious zeal. He accuses
himself of sin for the slightest thing imaginable; a mere trifle
is enough to shock him; so much so, that the other day he blamed
himself for having caught a flea while at his prayers, and for
having killed it with too much wrath.
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MONOLOGUES BY MOLIÈRE |
