ORGON, CLEANTE, DORINE

ORGON:
Ah! Good morning, brother.

CLEANTE:
I was just going, but am glad to greet you.
Things are not far advanced yet, in the country?

ORGON:
Dorine . . .

(To Cleante)
Just wait a bit, please, brother-in-law.
Let me allay my first anxiety
By asking news about the family.

(To Dorine)
Has everything gone well these last two days?
What's happening? And how is everybody?

DORINE:
Madam had fever, and a splitting headache
Day before yesterday, all day and evening.

ORGON:
And how about Tartuffe?

DORINE:
Tartuffe? He's well;
He's mighty well; stout, fat, fair, rosy-lipped.

ORGON:
Poor man!

DORINE:
At evening she had nausea
And could't touch a single thing for supper,
Her headache still was so severe.

ORGON:
And how
About Tartuffe?

DORINE:
He supped alone, before her,
And unctuously ate up two partridges,
As well as half a leg o' mutton, deviled.

ORGON:
Poor man!

DORINE:
All night she couldn't get a wink
Of sleep, the fever racked her so; and we
Had to sit up with her till daylight.

ORGON:
How
About Tartuffe?

DORINE:
Gently inclined to slumber,
He left the table, went into his room,
Got himself straight into a good warm bed,
And slept quite undisturbed until next morning.

ORGON:
Poor man!

DORINE:
At last she let us all persuade her,
And got up courage to be bled; and then
She was relieved at once.

ORGON:
And how about
Tartuffe?

DORINE:
He plucked up courage properly,
Bravely entrenched his soul against all evils,
And to replace the blood that she had lost,
He drank at breakfast four huge draughts of wine.

ORGON:
Poor man!

DORINE:
So now they both are doing well;
And I'll go straightway and inform my mistress
How pleased you are at her recovery.