Orgon. Yes, daughter, I intend by your marriage to unite Tartuffe to my family. He shall be your husband; I have decided that; and as on your duty I … (perceiving Dorine). What are you doing here? Your anxious curiosity is very great, my dear, to induce you to listen to us in this manner.

Dorine. In truth, I do not know whether this is a mere report arising from conjecture or from chance; but they have just told me the news of this marriage, and I treated it as a pure hoax.

Orgon. Why so! Is the thing incredible?

Dorine. So much so, that even from you, Sir, I do not believe it.

Orgon. I know how to make you believe it, though.

Dorine. Yes, yes, you are telling us a funny story.

Orgon. I am telling you exactly what you will see shortly.

Dorine. Nonsense!

Orgon. What I say is not in jest, daughter.

Dorine. Come, do not believe your father; he is joking.

Orgon. I tell you …

Dorine. No, you may say what you like; nobody will believe you.

Orgon. My anger will at last …

Dorine. Very well! we will believe you then; and so much the worse for you. What! is it possible, Sir, that, with that air of common sense, and this great beard in the very midst of your face, you would be foolish enough to be willing to …

Orgon. Now listen: you have taken certain liberties in this house, which I do not like; I tell you so, my dear.

Dorine. Let us speak without getting angry, Sir, I beg. Is it to laugh at people that you have planned this scheme? Your daughter is not suitable for a bigot: he has other things to think about. And, besides, what will such an alliance bring you? Why, with all your wealth, go and choose a beggar for your son-in- law …

Orgon. Hold your tongue. If he has nothing, know that it is just for that that we ought to esteem him. His poverty is no doubt an honest poverty; it ought to raise him above all grandeur, because he has allowed himself to be deprived of his wealth by his little care for worldly affairs, and his strong attachment to things eternal. But my assistance may give him the means of getting out of his troubles, and of recovering his property. His estates are well known in his country; and, such as you see him, he is quite the nobleman.

Dorine. Yes, so he says; and this vanity, Sir, does not accord well with piety. Whosoever embraces the innocence of a holy life should not boast so much about his name and his lineage; and the humble ways of piety do but ill agree with this outburst of ambition. What is the good of this pride. … But this discourse offends you: let us speak of himself, and leave his nobility alone. Would you, without some compunction, give a girl like her to a man like him? And ought you not to have some regard for propriety, and foresee the consequences of such a union? Be sure that a girl’s virtue is in danger when her choice is thwarted in her marriage; that her living virtuously depends upon the qualities of the husband whom they have chosen for her, and that those whose foreheads are pointed at everywhere often make of their wives what we see that they are. It is, in short, no easy task to be faithful to husbands cut out after a certain