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As a matter of fact he's rather crazy on the subject. I don't think it would be a bad move to make a special reference to it. It's all damned hypocrisy. There's a chap in the old French play what's his name?" "Tartuffe." "That's it. Well, there you are. That speech of his yesterday now why don't you take it and wring religiosity and hypocrisy and Tartuffism out of it?
Why do the French critics set such a high value on similar probabilities in the dramatic art, when they must be compelled to admit that their best masters have not always observed them? Tartuffe is an exact picture of hypocritical piety held up for universal warning; it is an excellent serious satire, but with the exception of separate scenes it is not a comedy.
I told him I did not understand the purport of his jest. "I will tell you," said he; "Tartuffe is going to be acted in the cabinets, and there is the part of a police officer, which only consists of a few lines. Prevail upon Madame de Pompadour to assign me that part, and the command is yours." I promised nothing, but I related the history to Madame, who said she would arrange it for me.
But both the conception and the presentation of Alceste and of Tartuffe, of Celimene and Philaminte, are purely comic, addressed to the intellect: there is no humour in them, and they refresh the intellect they quicken to detect their comedy, by force of the contrast they offer between themselves and the wiser world about them; that is to say, society, or that assemblage of minds whereof the Comic spirit has its origin.
You, as a good Tory, must not underrate them. Beer, the Bible, and the seven deadly virtues have made our England what she is." "You don't like your country, then?" she asked. "I live in it." "That you may censure it the better." "Would you have me take the verdict of Europe on it?" he inquired. "What do they say of us?" "That Tartuffe has emigrated to England and opened a shop."
The moment the girl's resolution strikes against him, he gives forth a hollow sound. He is like a stale athlete, who has great muscles and no vitality. To call him a hypocrite would be to misjudge him entirely. He is more subtle and complex than that. One of his acquaintances, hearing him spoken of as Tartuffe, replies, "No, the point is, he is not a Tartuffe.
I told him I did not understand the purport of his jest. "I will tell you," said he; "Tartuffe is going to be acted in the cabinets, and there is the part of a police officer, which only consists of a few lines. Prevail upon Madame de Pompadour to assign me that part, and the command is yours." I promised nothing, but I related the history to Madame, who said she would arrange it for me.
Those are words of wisdom; who is it who said so? A very clever man, called Monsieur Tartuffe. I see that. Be must have been a priest, at least? He was not an ecclesiastic, but he was somewhat of a churchman. That is just as I thought. Certainly we must hide our faults. Who would believe in us without that? I say us, for I am also somewhat a church-woman. Undoubtedly.
Cibot with a solemn face worthy of Tartuffe. "Then you think that with careful nursing our dear patient will get better, my dear M. Poulain?" "Yes, if this shock has not been too much for him." "Poor man! who can have vexed him? There isn't nobody like him on earth except his friend M. Schmucke.
The Misanthrope and the Tartuffe have no audible laughter; but the characters are steeped in the comic spirit. Between these two stand Shakespeare and Cervantes, with the richer laugh of heart and mind in one; with much of the Aristophanic robustness, something of Moliere's delicacy.
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