PROLOGUE SCENE.--MADELON, CATHOS, MAROTTE. Madelon. The more suitors who enter dear Papa's household to lay their claims before us, the more I suspect that my father is unequal to the tests of good judgment that are so important for our future happiness. What just happened proves this beyond all measure of a doubt.
Cathos. No one could doubt the truth of your statement. No one.
Madelon. One wants wit and magic in a gentleman. Not piety and instant recourse to hymns. What dreadfully ordinary music this Monsieur Tartuffe prefers!
Cathos. I dislike hymn music above all other kinds of music. And I must dislike gentlemen who prefer such music as well.
Madelon. And that eternal dispensing of grace. Comporting himself as God's own footman in his earnestness to please. Let him make his mark in another house.
Cathos. To be sure. Good heavens! How right you are.
Madelon. Oh, the more gentlemen who call upon us day and night while we are at home, the more I long to be rid of company altogether. One gets weary of the world when one is at the center of it.
Cathos. Yes. One wants to enjoy companions in private.
Madelon. I am afraid our morning visitors demonstrate just how close dear Papa is to being a laughingstock in Paris. He is so out of place, so out of touch, so unschooled in the ways of the town and the salon. How much clearer could it have been that he has lately arrived from the country? A perfectly uncomplicated man at heart. Like dear Papa. Ah
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