MARIANE A father's rights are such, it seems to me, That I could never dare to say a word. DORINE Came, talk it out. Valere has asked your hand: Now do you love him, pray, or do you not? MARIANE Dorine! How can you wrong my love so much, And ask me such a question? Have I not A hundred times laid bare my heart to you? Do you know how ardently I love him? DORINE How do I know if heart and words agree, And if in honest truth you really love him? MARIANE Dorine, you wrong me greatly if you doubt it; I've shown my inmost feelings, all too plainly. DORINE So then, you love him? MARIANE Yes, devotedly. DORINE And he returns your love, apparently? MARIANE I think so. DORINE And you both alike are eager To be well married to each other? MARIANE Surely. DORINE Then what's your plan about this other match? MARIANE To kill myself, if it is forced upon me. DORINE Good! That's a remedy I hadn't thought of. Just die, and everything will be all right. This medicine is marvellous, indeed! It drives me mad to hear folk talk such nonsense. MARIANE Oh dear, Dorine you get in such a temper! You have no sympathy for people's troubles. DORINE I have no sympathy when folk talk nonsense, And flatten out as you do, at a pinch. MARIANE But what can you expect?--if one is timid?-- DORINE But what is love worth, if it has no courage? MARIANE Am I not constant in my love for him? Is't not his place to win me from my father? DORINE But if your father is a crazy fool, And quite bewitched with his Tartuffe? And breaks His bounden word? Is that your lover's fault? MARIANE But shall I publicly refuse and scorn This match, and make it plain that I'm in love? Shall I cast off for him, whate'er he be, Womanly modesty and filial duty? You ask me to display my love in public ... ? DORINE No, no, I ask you nothing. You shall be Mister Tartuffe's; why, now I think of it, I should be wrong to turn you from this marriage. What cause can I have to oppose your wishes? So fine a match! An excellent good match! Mister Tartuffe! Oh ho! No mean proposal! Mister Tartuffe, sure, take it all in all, Is not a man to sneeze at--oh, by no means! 'Tis no small luck to be his happy spouse. The whole world joins to sing his praise already; He's noble--in his parish; handsome too; Red ears and high complexion--oh, my lud! You'll be too happy, sure, with him for husband. MARIANE Oh dear! ... DORINE What joy and pride will fill your heart To be the bride of such a handsome fellow! MARIANE Oh, stop, I beg you; try to find some way To help break off the match. I quite give in, I'm ready to do anything you say.