[In the following essay, Zwillenberg explores Molière's use of justice in Tartuffe.]

Few will quarrel with the judgment that Molière's Tartuffe is a masterpiece, yet those who agree on the excellence of the play frequently express hostility and confusion about the intervention of the King at the end. The King's justice, it is argued, may be thorough and effective, but it is so unexpected as to cast doubt upon the dramatic coherence of the entire comedy. Probably, Molière himself is responsible for this reaction, having resorted to a deus ex machina that appears to defy internal resolution. By relying on a device which introduces a new character possessed of sweeping powers, he seems to be saying that there is a break between dramatically motivated expectations of justice and the King's own dazzling display of power and omniscience.

The earliest extant criticism of the play (thought to be written by Molière) is the Lettre sur la comédie de l'Imposteur, a pamphlet which circulated after the 1664 version of Tartuffe. In it the author assumes the conventional posture of an Aristotelian critic who defends the portrayal of the Hypocrite as a moral corrective to vice. The King's justice does not surprise this critic; on the contrary, he saves his greatest praise for the dénouement:

Il me semble que si, dans tout le reste de la pièce, l'auteur a égalé tous les anciens et surpassé tous les modernes, on peut dire que dans ce dénouement il s'est surpassé lui-même, n'ayant rien de plus grand, de plus magnifique et de plus merveilleux, et cependant rien de plus naturel, de plus heureux et de plus juste. …”¹

Today such hyperbole and its critical perspective seem quaint at best.² Nevertheless, the Lettre remains more than a charming, but useless antique. The author of that document, like so many generations of spectators after him, sensed the relationship between the tensions generated by the figure of Tartuffe and the audience's desire that he not go unpunished at the end of the play. The comic and unsympathetic nature of the character suggests that he is a ridiculous figure destined to lose the protection of his mask, opaque only to Orgon and his mother. Indeed, it seems safe to say that a final triumph by Tartuffe would betray the comic essence of the play: the folly of both Tartuffe and Orgon would not be amusing if comedy were to dissolve into melodrama, leaving the hypocrite victorious over a helpless family.

Interestingly enough, the author of the Lettre skirts completely the issue of Orgon's complicity in Tartuffe's rise to power. This embarrassing omission, no doubt motivated by a desire to defend, rather than analyse the play, has long since been corrected. Lionel Gossman, notably, has summarized modern critical opinion: “Tartuffe cannot be given credit for having bamboozled Orgon. Orgon is as much Tartuffe's creator as Tartuffe himself.”³

Here it seems, we are arriving at the heart of the dilemma. The comic tensions provoking audience laughter are directly related to situations and characters perceived as unjust. Even where no legal breaches occur—as in the case of Orgon's decision to marry off his daughter to Tartuffe or to banish and disinherit his son—the injustice of such actions is manifest to the audience. To be sure, Molière has taken the precaution of signaling such incidents by having the servant Dorine express her exaggerated moral outrage, a significant device which pinpoints the areas meant to be ridiculous. But even if Dorine were not present, the excessive authority exercised over the sympathetic characters by both Orgon and Tartuffe would be cause enough to desire that they receive their just desserts.

When considered in the light of a need for closure, however, this type of scenario poses thorny problems. Audience expectations of dramatic justice, nurtured through the repeated exposure of comic folly, demand confirmation, usually in the form of order replacing comic disorder. But if there are two strong comic figures, it would surely not do to foil only one of the protagonists. Dramatic justice, in the case of Tartuffe, would seem to necessitate the punishment of Orgon and the hypocrite, two figures whose outrageous behavior constitutes an aberration we are willing to enjoy as a comic spectacle, but only with the knowledge that it will not go unchecked.

This conclusion may help to explain the traditional hostility to the dénouement. Even if the ending did not include a deus ex machina, it would still be difficult to justify, as a solution, an ending that treats one comic figure so harshly and the other so lightly.

However, a fundamental error in this reasoning derives, I believe, from a narrow view of justice as a final rather than evolving concept. Seventeenth-century theoreticians traditionally considered only the final reversal in a series to be the dénouement,⁴ but if one takes into consideration the comic tensions engendered by a multiplicity of evolving characters and situations, it might be more proper to expand the dénouement to include the relaxation of all the major tensions. Moreover, appreciation of the gradual nature of such an extended process might make it possible to perceive not only the means employed, but also its effect upon the dynamics of the play.

Perhaps the most important factor is that the roles of the protagonists do evolve in the course of the play. If one compares, for example, Orgon's early posture of power and insensitivity with his plight in Act IV, scene 7, when Tartuffe announces control over the family's wordly possessions, it becomes clear that the lines of comic force have shifted. Nor is the role of Orgon the only one to change, for this scene also heralds a major change in the role of the hypocrite. Functioning formerly as Orgon's alter-ego and as a ridiculous figure inspiring laughter,⁵ he now appears as a menace whose power threatens the internal equilibrium of the comic process.

This striking scene, with its overwhelming reversals, may hold a key to the final proceedings. First of all, it separates the lines of force which permitted Orgon and Tartuffe to function as comic accomplices. This is important because it strengthens the individuality of each figure at the same time it separates the fate of one from the other. Secondly, it serves as a dénouement of sorts because it humbles Orgon, punishing him for his folly and humilating him for his blindness. All of his unjust acts make him ripe for humiliation, and Tartuffe's assumption of power provides at least partial justice in the spectacle of Orgon's helpless rage.

But it would be erroneous to see in this scene any complete comic closure for the play.⁶ Orgon deserves to be humiliated, but not in so abject—and one could add, unfunny—a manner, and certainly not by a figure who is at least as guilty of misconduct as he. In brief, this pivotal scene shifts the focus to Tartuffe's power, but resolves only a fraction of the tensions present.

If Orgon cannot dispel Tartuffe's power, who is left to do it? A rapid glance at the remaining cast of characters offers little hope of a solution. The docile daughter Marianne cannot even openly challenge her father. Damis, with his adolescent rage and simplistic idealism, has, of course, been banished. Elmire, the discreet and self-effacing wife, would appear to have some chance for success, but she already seems exhausted, having expended all her energy in the plot to trick Tartuffe, a plot so contrary to her nature that she feels obliged to apologize for it. Dorine and Cléante perceive the situation most clearly, but for all their talking, they have been lacking the force and prestige to bring about any significant change. That leaves only old Madame Pernelle, who shares with her son Orgon the blindness and gullibility which make of her another accomplice, rather than a possible savior for the family.

Boileau's suggested dénouement, which would have the family judge and then perhaps chase Tartuffe from the house in a farcical manner, is deftly dismissed by Professor Scherer, who points out that the family, devoid of its legal documents, is hardly in a position to judge Tartuffe.⁷ This simple fact, coupled with the dramatic havoc to be created by changing the formerly weak character of the family, would therefore make such a solution impossible. Also, once again, a concerted effort by Orgon and his family would bypass the important issue of Orgon's guilt and posture as a comic figure.

The burden of comic closure falls to Act V which, it will appear, deals with the problem in steps. The proceedings of Act IV have given ample proof of Tartuffe's true nature even to a mind as closed as that of Orgon. Therefore, Orgon's awakening comes as the proper and logical first step. Scene 2 brings the return of Damis, welcomed home by a chastened father. The rhythm then changes, bringing comic relief in the obstinate ramblings of Madame Pernelle during Scene 3. In Scene 5, after she has seen for herself the crimes perpetrated by Tartuffe's henchman, Monsieur Loyal, she, too, awakens to the truth, exclaiming: “Je suis tout ébaubie, et je tombe des nues!” Valère's offer of aid in the following scene puts the final touch on the reunion and shows him to be a worthy husband for Marianne. All would thus seem to be very sweet just before the play's final scene—except for the significant fact that the problems have again only partially been solved. This is the moment of the arrival of the Exempt, representative of the police and the King. The play's final scene is also the moment for the play's greatest reversal, the deus ex machina that resolves all of the difficulties still remaining.

It should be noted that this ending does have its supporters, and in recent years most of the arguments have centered about the thematic justification for the King's intervention.⁸ Given the theme of abused authority, set in motion in the play's initial scene and sustained throughout the comedy, the validity of introducing a supreme authority figure at its close seems largely justified. However, thematic coherence alone would not explain Molière's recourse to so spectacular an ending. Indeed, as mentioned earlier, the surprise of the Exempt's arrival, his silence, and then his startling revelation of the reasons for his appearance suggest a structural breach as powerful as any thematic link.

Clearly then, any full explanation for the deus ex machina must look to structural as well as thematic criteria. One clue can be found in the spectacle of Act V. These scenes are usually cited to show that Molière had reached a dead-end: that “real life” drama has brought Orgon and his family to contrition and reconciliation, without a happy ending. However, this interpretation ignores two structural details that have dominated the comedy: the impulse to justice and the pattern of comic equilibrium.

When considered as a dramatic device, the first part of the fifth act reveals itself to be a period of apprehension that makes the coming storm more impressive. The weakness of the sympathetic figures cries out for a strong and just reversal precisely because the comic structure of the play (which descends at times to a farcical level) makes highly unlikely a final victory for the villain of the piece.

Molière's careful attention to detail in Act V would also support this view. The reunion of the family, the conversion of Madame Pernelle, the hope of a wedding for the young lovers if Tartuffe's dastardly plot can be thwarted—all combine to create an emotionally charged cliff-hanger. Nor is the solution a particularly difficult one, for having disposed of the other major problems, Molière need solve only one more: foiling Tartuffe.

However, the climate of suspense means that any solution to the dilemma will have to match the emotional heights reached in the first part of Act V. A wink and a pardon, as in L'Avare, will not suffice, nor will a happy carnival setting, as in le Bourgeois Gentilhomme; on the contrary, a tonic chord will have to be very forceful.

In the final scene timing is all-important. Molière exploits the suspense to an extreme, allowing Tartuffe his final vindictive tirade in the presence of the Exempt whose initial silence seems to bear witness to the hypocrite's victory. This is the moment for the play's most startling reversal, and it comes only after Tartuffe himself has set the trap:

                                                                      Tartuffe, à l'Exempt.
Délivrez-moi, Monsieur, de la criaillerie,
Et daignez accomplir votre ordre, je vous prie.
                                                                      L'Exempt
Oui, c'est trop demeurer
sans doute à l'accomplir:
Votre bouche à propos m'invite à
le remplir;
Et pour l'exécuter, suivez-moi tout à l'heure
Dans la prison qu'on doit vous donner pour demeure.

(1897-1902)

No dramatic or linguistic flourish is spared in this or in the Exempt's following speech. One listens in stunned silence to a litany of the King's superhuman qualities and to the sentence he has decreed. Not only for the family, but for the spectator as well, the words bring sweet relief that comes from a reprieve from fear. The intolerable cloud of injustice which has loomed menacingly overhead is slowly lifted, leaving the pure light of le roi Soleil. The impulses to justice and to comic equilibrium have been fulfilled after all, and the structural integrity of the play is intact. To be sure, the suspense was painful, but the pleasure is all the more intense for it.

Another major aspect of the dénouement, distinct from the orchestration of the scene, is the means by which Tartuffe is punished and order restored to the household: Tartuffe is discovered as a result of past crimes, and Orgon is excused because of past favors rendered to the King during the Fronde. The text is very explicit on both points, noting with respect to Tartuffe that he is:

un fourbe renommé
Dont sous un autre nom il étoit informé,
Et c'est un long détail d'actions toutes noires
Dont on pourroit former des volumes d'histories.

(1923-26)

As for Orgon's pardon, it is the result of a favor dating back about twenty years:

Et c'est le prix qu'il donne au zèle qu'autrefois
On vous vit témoigner en appuyant ses droits

(1939-40)

When these two aspects, the surprise of the deus ex machina and the device of relating both the punishment and the pardon to the past, are examined in the light of tensions generated earlier, the ending appears anything but arbitrary.

First of all, the intervention of the King resolves all of the major tensions remaining: it punishes Tartuffe, recognizes and then excuses Orgon's culpability, restores family harmony, and guarantees that such excesses will not soon take place again. In brief, it unties all the knots (and does not merely chop them off, as a wag suggested) at the same time it releases the tensions resulting from the Tartuffe-Orgon fraternity. The audience is rewarded for its correct perception of comic forces by the spectacle of seeing the guilty defeated, and it also experiences the pleasure of suspense preceding the welcome reversal which terminates the play.

Secondly, the device of reverting back in time reveals itself to be a beautifully simple measure for solving a complex problem gracefully. Punishing Tartuffe by other means, such as a judgment by the family or an invalidation of the contract in the courts, would have still left unsolved the matter of Orgon's complicity. Moreover, this sort of ending would have been devoid of the éclat which comes from Tartuffe's final blunder, exposed for all to see in the refracted light of the reversal. Nor is the problem of Orgon's crimes ignored; they are simply separated from those of Tartuffe, permitting the King to treat each individually.

This is not to say, however, that the substance of the ending is inferior to its form. On the contrary, the device of making the King the agent of justice more than adequately meets the specific needs of the ending. The impulse to dramatic justice, which has been growing more intense throughout Act V, finds an appropriate carrier in the person of the King. Only a figure of superhuman stature could see into the hearts of men, and only he could remember good and evil dating back to the Fronde. In fact, by putting on stage the one mortal figure capable of transcending time, Molière has solved the greatest problem still remaining. Certainly, no solution is possible in the present, but an earlier time, free of complications, easily meets the need for an outside form of justice.

The point is that Molière has paced himself in such a way as to exploit all of the dramatic potential in Tartuffe's rise to power and in his subsequent, inevitable fall. Like an elastic band stretched to its breaking point, the action of Act V creates increased audience apprehension proportional to the growing threat of disaster. Unlike the subtle play of forces which marked the period of complicity between the two comic figures, the technique here is linear and cumulative, building up force for a reversal whose shock is equal to the suspense preceding it.

On the other hand, this does not mean that just any final reversal will have the desired effect. It is the mark of an expert craftsman that the means employed correspond so perfectly to the tensions generated earlier. Moreover, this would appear to be Molière's primary consideration, rather than any attempt to explain the King's interest in Orgon's dilemma. Although such interest comes as a great surprise, it is one which strengthens the force of the Exempt's pronouncements. Surely, a monarch who knows all things past and present should cause little wonder that his perception of injustice is accurate. Just how accurate becomes apparent in his balanced dispensation of justice, which corresponds not only to past crimes or favors, but also to the dramatic exigency of relaxing the tensions caused by the ascendance of a villain.

Looking back to Act IV, scene 6, the dénouement further reveals itself to be the second stage of a process begun much earlier. From a pattern of balanced complicity Molière moved to the imbalance of allowing Tartuffe apparent victory, at the expense of the family's humiliation and helplessness. This permitted him to relax one major tension deriving from the injustice of Orgon's abuse of authority. However, it left another major tension, that of Tartuffe's unjust rise to power, which then demanded an even greater reversal to redress the balance. And since a satisfying solution could ignore neither Orgon's earlier complicity, nor his present helplessness, dramatic equilibrium could be restored only by an outside agent able to transcend the present. Also, by choosing the one figure capable of perceiving all the divisions, justice could be dispensed with an even hand.

When examined in the light of both structural and dramatic exigencies, therefore, Molière's recourse to a deus ex machina emerges as a fitting vehicle for the resolution of comic tensions. It effectively restores the equilibrium of the comic universe, releases all remaining tensions, and confirms the validity of the spectator's perception. Tartuffe may disappoint those looking for “real life” drama, but the play itself has no such pretensions. Its internal comedy, nourished by examples of injustice, constitutes a closely controlled dramatic mechanism whose evolving plan leads us to expect a just ending. Tartuffe clearly fulfills this expectation, and provides masterful comedy in the process.

Notes

1. The Lettre consulted for this study appears in the Despois-Mesnard edition of Molière's works (Paris, 1878), IV, 529-66. This edition is also the source for direct references to the play.

2. As Jacques Scherer and others have pointed out, the force of the argument, for all its attractiveness, suffers from an excess of uncritical praise.

3. Lionel Gossman, Men and Masks: A Study of Molière (Baltimore, 1963), p. 110.

4. See Jacques Scherer, La Dramaturgie classique en France (Paris, 1950), pp. 125-26.

5. Three such moments, grouped by Marcel Gutwirth, are the handkerchief scene where Tartuffe tangles with Dorine (“Couvrez ce sein que je ne saurois voir …” III,2), his grotesque attempts at seduction in his first meeting with Elmire (III,3), and his recourse to the truth, in the fervent hope he will not be believed, after being denounced by Damis (III,6). See Molière ou l'invention comique (Paris, 1966), pp. 179-83.

6. John Cairncross's theory, in New Light on Molière: Tartuffe; Elomire Hypocondre (Genève, 1956), of the three-act “Urtartuffe” of 1664, ending with Orgon chasing Tartuffe from the house, would be only slightly more satisfying. Since Orgon is largely responsible for Tartuffe's rise to power, it would be difficult to appreciate an ending which failed to take that fact into consideration.

7. Jacques Scherer, Structures de Tartuffe (Paris, 1966), p. 192.

8. Scherer cites the King's role as “roi-père” and the probability that he has followed the fortunes of Orgon (Structures de Tartuffe, pp.200-207). See also Judd Hubert, Molière and the Comedy of Intellect (Berkeley, 1962); and Jacques Guicharnaud, Molière, une aventure théâtrale (Paris, 1963).