Perhaps these sweet words are a decorous ruse Designed to disrupt my hymeneal news; And, if I may speak quite freely with you, I won't believe that all you say is true Until I'm assured that you couldn't lie By a few of those favors for which I sigh. Such favors would make me your devotee And a true believer in your fondness for me. Elmire [she coughs to warn her husband]. Do you demand to push on with such great speed, And drain my heart dry by your burning need? I risk my life in proclaiming my love, And for you even that is not enough! Can't you be satisfied with what I say? Must you force me into going all the way? Tartuffe. The less one merits, the more one desires. Mere words will never quench our raging fires. A promised gift is often suspected; We rarely believe it, until we inspect it. I, who so little merit your favors, Doubt the happy outcome of my labors. And I will not believe a thing, my dear, Until you ease my pain to prove you're sincere. Elmire. Good God, your love is too oppressive; It troubles my soul and becomes obsessive! What a crazy power it has on the heart! With what fierce passion it tears me apart! What! Is there no way to stave off your desire? Won't you give me a moment to respire? Do you think it is fair to be so firm, To demand everything and watch me squirm, To take what you want, pushing and pressing, And abusing my weakness in acquiescing? Tartuffe. If you look on me with a kindly heart, Then prove how you feel by playing your part. Elmire. But how can I give you the things you seek Without offending that God of whom you speak? Tartuffe. If it's only God that opposes my desire, I'll think up a way to make him conspire, And that need not restrain your heart, my dear. Elmire. But the decrees of God scare me to tears. Tartuffe. I can dispel your foolish fears, madame, For I know the art of quashing each qualm. Though God forbids certain gratifications, With him one can reach one's accommodations. It is a science to stretch out the strings Of conscience in the service of diverse things And to rectify an evil action With the purity of our intention. Regarding these secrets, I shall instruct you; You need only allow me to conduct you. Satisfy my desire and have no fear; I'll assume the sin and leave your soul clear. [Elmire coughs more loudly.] That's quite a cough, madame. Elmire. Yes, it's a torment. Tartuffe [offering Elmire a piece of candy]. Would it help to have a licorice or mint? Elmire. It's an obstinate illness, and I see That all the mints in the world won't help me Tartuffe.