CLEANTE That is the usual strain of all your kind; They must have every one as blind as they.They call you atheist if you have good eyes; And if you don't adore their vain grimaces, You've neither faith nor care for sacred things.No, no; such talk can't frighten me; I know What I am saying; heaven sees my heart.We're not the dupes of all your canting mummers; There are false heroes--and false devotees; And as true heroes never are the ones Who make much noise about their deeds of honour, Just so true devotees, whom we should follow, Are not the ones who make so much vain show.What! Will you find no difference between Hypocrisy and genuine devoutness? And will you treat them both alike, and pay The self-same honour both to masks and faces Set artifice beside sincerity, Confuse the semblance with reality, Esteem a phantom like a living person, And counterfeit as good as honest coin? Men, for the most part, are strange creatures, truly! You never find them keep the golden mean; The limits of good sense, too narrow for them, Must always be passed by, in each direction; They often spoil the noblest things, because They go too far, and push them to extremes.I merely say this by the way, good brother.
ORGON You are the sole expounder of the doctrine; Wisdom shall die with you, no doubt, good brother, You are the only wise, the sole enlightened, The oracle, the Cato, of our age.All men, compared to you, are downright fools.
CLEANTE I'm not the sole expounder of the doctrine, And wisdom shall not die with me, good brother.But this I know, though it be all my knowledge, That there's a difference 'twixt false and true.And as I find no kind of hero more To be admired than men of true religion, Nothing morenoble or more beautiful Than is the holy zeal of true devoutness; Just so I think there's naught more odious Than whited sepulchres of outward unction, Those barefaced charlatans, those hireling zealots, Whose sacrilegious, treacherous pretence Deceives at will, and with impunity Makes mockery of all that men hold sacred; Men who, enslaved to selfish interests, Make trade and merchandise of godliness, And try to purchase influence and office With false eye-rollings and affected raptures; Those men, I say, who with uncommon zeal Seek their own fortunes on the road to heaven; Who, skilled in prayer, have always much to ask, And live at court to preach retirement; Who reconcile religion with their vices, Are quick to anger, vengeful, faithless, tricky, And, to destroy a man, will have the boldness To call their private grudge the cause of heaven; All the more dangerous, since in their anger They use against us weapons men revere, And since they make the world applaud their passion, And seek to stab us with a sacred sword.There are too many of this canting kind.Still, the sincere are easy to distinguish; And many splendid patterns may be found, In our own time, before our very eyes Look at Ariston, Periandre, Oronte, Alcidamas, Clitandre, and Polydore; No one denies their claim to true religion; Yet they're no braggadocios of virtue, They do not make insufferable display, And their religion's human, tractable; They are not always judging all our actions, They'd think such judgment savoured of presumption; And, leaving pride of words to other men, 'Tis by their deeds alone they censure ours.Evil appearances find little credit With them; they even incline to think the best Of others.No caballers, no intriguers, They mind the business of their own right living.They don't attack a sinner tooth and nail, For sin's the only object of their hatred; Nor are they over- zealous to attempt Far more in heaven's behalf than heaven would have 'em.That is my kind of man, that is true living, That is the pattern we should set ourselves.Your fellow was not fashioned on this model; You're quite sincere in boasting of his zeal; But you're deceived, I think, by false pretences.
ORGON My dear good brother-in-law, have you quite done? CLEANTE Yes.
ORGON I'm your humble servant.
(Starts to go.)
CLEANTE Just a word.We'll drop that other subject.But you know Valere has had the promise of your daughter.
ORGON Yes.
CLEANTE You had named the happy day.ORGON 'Tis true.
CLEANTE Then why put off the celebration of it? ORGON I can't say.
CLEANTE Can you have some other plan In mind? ORGON Perhaps.
CLEANTE You mean to break your word? ORGON I don't say that.
CLEANTE I hope no obstacle Can keep you from performing what you've promised.
ORGON Well, that depends.
CLEANTE Why must you beat about? Valere has sent me here to settle matters.
ORGON Heaven be praised!
CLEANTE What answer shall I take him? ORGON Why, anything you please.
CLEANTE But we must know Your plans.What are they? ORGON I shall do the will Of Heaven.
CLEANTE Come, be serious.You've given Your promise to Valere.Now will you keep it?
ORGON Good-bye.
CLEANTE (alone) His love, methinks, has much to fear; I must go let him know what's happening here.
