Dorine: So here’s what’s worse and weird — so is her son.
What’s more — it’s obvious to everyone.
Before Tartuffe and he became entwined,
Orgon once ruled this house in his right mind.
In the troubled times, he backed the prince,
And that took courage. We haven’t seen it since.
He is intoxicated with Tartuffe —
A potion that exceeds a hundred proof.
It’s put him in a trance, this Devil’s brew.
And so he worships this imposter who
He calls “brother” and loves more than one —
This charlatan — more than daughter, wife, son.
This charlatan hears all our master’s dreams,
And all his secrets. Every thought, it seems,
Is poured out to Tartuffe, like he’s his priest!
You’d think they’d see the heresy, at least.
Orgon caresses him, embraces him, and shows
More love for him than any mistress knows.
Come for a meal and who has the best seat?
Whose preferences determine what we eat?
Tartuffe consumes enough for six, is praised.
And to his health is every goblet raised.
While on his plate are piled the choicest bites
Then when he belches, our master delights
In that and shouts, “God bless you!” to the beast,
As if Tartuffe’s the reason for the feast.
Did I mention the quoting of each word,
As if it’s the most brilliant thing we’ve heard?
And, oh, the miracles Tartuffe creates!
The prophecies! We write while he dictates.
All that’s ridiculous. But what’s evil
Is seeing the deception and upheaval
Of the master and everything he owns.
He hands him money. They’re not even loans —
He’s giving it away. It’s gone too far.
To watch Tartuffe play him like a guitar!
And this Laurent, his man, found some lace.
Shredded it and threw in my face.
He’d found it pressed inside The Lives of Saints,
I thought we’d have to put him in restraints.
“To put the devil’s finery beside
The words and lives of saintly souls who died —
Is action of Satanical transgression!”
And so, of course, I hurried to confession.

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