Tar.-We cannot cherish your dear health too much; and to re-establish yours I would have given mine.

Elm. That is pushing Christian charity very far; and I feel much indebted to you for all this kindness. Tar.- I do much less for you than you deserve.

Elm. I wished to speak to you in private about a certain matter, and I am glad that no one is here to ob

serve us.

Tar.- I am equally delighted: and no doubt it is very pleasant, Madame, to find myself alone with you. I have often asked opportunity from Heaven, but till now in vain.

Elm.- What I wish is a few words upon a small matter, in which you must lay bare your heart, and conceal nothing from me.

[Damis, who had concealed himself in a closet, halfopens the door, and listens to the conversation, unknown to the speakers.]

Tar.- And I will also, in return for this rare favor, unbosom myself entirely to you; but rather from a passionate zeal which carries me away, and out of a pure motive.

Elm. That is how I take it. I think it is for my good that you trouble yourself so much.

[Tartuffe takes her hand, and presses her fingers.] Elm.-Oh! You squeezed me too hard!

Tar. It is through excess of zeal. I never had any intention of hurting you; and would sooner

[He places his hand on her knee.]

Elm.- What does your hand there?

Tar. I am only feeling your dress; the stuff is very soft.

Elm.-Oh! please leave off. I am very ticklish.

[She pushes her chair back; and he draws his up, and begins to handle her collar.]

Tar.- Bless me! how wonderful is the workmanship of this lace! They work in a miraculous manner nowadays. Never was anything so beautifully made.

Elm. It is true. But let us have some talk about our affair. I have been told that my husband wishes to

retract his promise, and give you his daughter. Is it true? Tell me.

Tar. He has hinted something to me; but, to tell you the truth, Madame, this is not the happiness for which I am sighing. I behold elsewhere the marvellous attractions of that bliss which forms the height of my wishes. Elm. That is because you have no love for earthly things.

Tar.- My breast does not contain a heart of flint.

Elm.- I believe that all your sighs tend toward Heaven, and that nothing here below rouses your desires.

Tar.- The love which attaches us to eternal beauties does not stifle in us the love of earthly things; our senses may easily be charmed by the perfect works which Heaven has created. Its reflected loveliness shines forth in such as you; but in you alone it displays its choicest wonders. It has diffused on your face such beauty that it dazzles the eyes and transports the heart; nor could I behold you, perfect creature, without admiring in you Nature's Author, and feeling my heart smitten with an ardent love for the most beautiful of portraits, wherein he has represented himself. At first I feared that this secret ardor might be nothing but a cunning snare of the foul fiend; and my heart even resolved to fly your presence, thinking you might be an obstacle to my salvation. But at last I found, O most lovely beauty, that my passion could not be blamable; that I could reconcile it with modesty; and this made me freely indulge it. It is, I confess, a great presumption in me to dare to offer you this heart; but I expect in my affections everything from your kindness, and nothing from the vain efforts of my own weakness. In you is my hope, my happiness, my peace; on you depends my torment or my bliss; and it is by your decision solely that I must be happy if you wish it, or miserable if it pleases you.

Elm. The declaration is extremely gallant; but it is, to speak truly, rather a little surprising. Methinks you. ought to arm your heart better, and to reflect a little upon such a design. A pious man like you, and who is everywhere spoken of

Tar.- Ah! although I am a pious man, I am not the VOL. XVII.-2

less a man; and when one beholds your heavenly charms, the heart surrenders, and reasons no longer.

Elm.- But, sir

Tar. I know that such discourse from me must appear strange. But after all, I am not an angel; and if my confession be condemned by you, you must blame your own attractions for it. As soon as I beheld this more than human loveliness, you became the queen of my soul. The ineffable sweetness of your divine glance broke down the resistance of my obstinate heart; it overcame everything - fastings, prayers, tears and led all my desires to your charms. My looks and my sighs have told you so a thousand times, and the better to explain myself I now make. use of words. If you should graciously contemplate the tribulations of your unworthy slave; if your kindness would console me, and will condescend to my insignificant self, I shall ever entertain for you, O miracle of sweetness, an unexampled devotion. Your honor runs not the slightest risk with me, and need not fear the least disgrace on my account. All these court gallants, of whom women are so fond, are noisy in their doings, and vain in their talk; they are incessantly pluming themselves on their successes, and they receive no favors which they do not divulge. Their indiscreet tongues, in which people confide, desecrate the altar on which their hearts sacrifice. But men of our stamp love discreetly, and with them a secret is always kept. The care which we take of our own reputations is a sufficient guarantee for the object of our love; and it is only with us, when they accept our hearts, that they find love without scandal, and pleasure without fear.

Elm. I have listened to what you say, and your rhetoric explains itself in sufficiently strong terms to me. But are you not afraid that the fancy may take me to tell my husband of this gallant ardor, and that the prompt knowledge of such an amour might well change the friendship which he bears you?

Tar. I know that you are too gracious, and will pardon my boldness; that you will excuse the violent transports of a passion which offends you; and consider,

by looking at yourself, that people are not blind, and men are made of flesh and blood.

Elm.- Others would perhaps take it in a different fashion; but I shall show my discretion. I shall not tell the matter to my husband. But in return I require something of you: that is to forward honestly, and without quibbling, the union of Valère with Mariane; renounce the unjust power which would enrich you with what belongs to another, and

[Damis comes out of the closet in which he had been concealed, and had listened to this conversation.]

Dam.- No, Madame, no; this shall be made public. I was in there, where I overheard it all: and Providence seems to have conducted me thither to abash the pride of a wretch who wrongs me; to point out a way to take vengeance on his hypocrisy and insolence; to undeceive my father, and to show him plainly the heart of a villain who talks to you of love.

Elm.- No, Damis. It suffices that he reforms, and endeavors to deserve my indulgence. Since I have promised him, do not make me break my word. I have no wish to provoke a scandal. A woman laughs at such follies, and never troubles her husband's ears with them.

Dam. You have your reason for acting in that way. I have mine for behaving differently. It's a farce to wish to spare him; and the insolent pride of his bigotry has already trampled too much over my just anger, and caused too much disorder amongst us. The scoundrel has governed my father too long, and plotted against my affections, as well as Valère's. My father must be undeceived about this perfidious wretch; and Heaven offers me an easy means. I am indebted to it for this opportunity, and it is too favorable to be neglected. I should deserve to have it snatched away from me, did I not make use of it, now that I have it in hand.

Elm.-Damis

Dam.- No; by your leave, I will use my own judgment. I am highly delighted, and all you can say will be in vain to make me forego the pleasure of revenge. I shall settle this affair without delay; and here is just the opportunity.

[Enter Orgon, to whom Damis addresses himself.] Dam.- We will enliven your arrival, father, with an altogether fresh incident that will surprise you much. You are well repaid for all your caresses, and this gentleman rewards you handsomely. His great zeal for you has just shown itself. He aims at nothing less than dishonoring you; and I have just surprised him making to your wife an insulting proposal of a guilty passion. Her sweet disposition and her too discreet feelings would by all means have kept the secret from you. But I cannot encourage such insolence, and I think that to have been silent about it would have been to do you an injury.

Elm.- Yes, I am of opinion that we ought never to trouble our husband's peace with all these silly stories; that our honor does not depend upon that, and that it is enough for us to be able to defend ourselves. These are my sentiments; and you would have said nothing, Damis, if I had possessed any influence with you.

Org. What have I heard! Oh, Heavens! is it possible?

Tar. Yes, brother, I am guilty, wretched sinner, full of iniquity: the greatest villain that ever existed. Each moment of my life is replete with pollutions: it is but a mass of crime and corruption; and I see that Heaven, to chastise me, intends to mortify me on this occasion. Whatever great crime may be laid to my charge, I have neither the wish nor the pride to deny it. Believe what you are told; arm your anger, and drive me like a criminal from your house. Whatever shame you may heap upon me, I deserve still more.

Org. [To his son.]- What! wretch! dare you by this falsehood tarnish the purity of his virtue?

Dam.-What! shall the pretended gentleness of this hypocrite make you believe.

Org.- Peace, cursed plague!

Tar.- Ah! let him speak. You accuse him wrongly; and you had much better believe in his story. Why will you be so favorable to me, after hearing of such a fact? Are you, after all, aware of what I am capable? Why trust to my exterior, brother? and why, despite all that is seen, believe me to be better than I am? No, no, you